Entry for the Straight thru the Heart Contest
Summary: "I hate that I love you." "I hate that I love you, too." A story of two rivals, sworn to do their job. It could turn beautiful or simply ruin everything. It's funny how love works, isn't it? M for language and other adult content.
Word count: 6,869
Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.
It's about three in the afternoon when Siobhan calls a meeting. I go through everything done recently and find nothing wrong, so I know I can't be in trouble. It's either a new assignment or some well-deserved vacation time. The second option is doubtful since we're the best here, though it would be nice. Once we're inside the secure room and seated, my red-headed boss woman hands us each a file and starts talking.
"This your new target. Although you have had a few run-ins from time to time, study it well." We all open the file and I have to school my features. "As you're aware, he's a hit-man, and will know something is up if one little thing doesn't go as planned." I sit up a little straighter and look over at my most trusted people.
According to the file, Edward Anthony Cullen is a new friend of Aro Volturi. Aro is Italian and owns Volturi Hotels, an up and coming Hilton-like chain. Aro is also known for using two of those hotels to run a sex slave ring—and we're still in the process of finding more.
Boss lady continues, "Word has it that Aro plans to expand his hotels from Europe into the U.S., thus bringing his illegal dealings onto our soil. Mr. E.A.C. is supposed to help with security and communications in these new establishments." No. This can't be true. "It is your job to confirm this and to take him out. Aro's sex ring will not set foot in our country. We have enough problems to deal with."
To me, the obvious and better target would be Aro himself. However, I know we need more proof before that can happen. Edward is a known communications expert as well as a hit man, and Siobhan goes on to explain that we will have to be a little more covert than normal in our approach to this assignment.
Fuck covert, I think. She may not know about me and him, but being covert won't work. He'll know something is up. The asshole can read me like a book.
"I want you to find Edward's patterns, his weaknesses …" I start to tune her out, thinking about the first time we met at the club …
Rose and I just completed a night job in London. With the eight-hour time difference, it's only around one o'clock in the afternoon in Seattle. So, by the time we get back and released to go home, it's 11:30pm. I'm well-rested and feel pretty good, despite the long flight. I want to dance and hopefully get laid to help get rid of this energy. Wearing a tight purple dress with purple heels to match and gold jewelry to accent, I leave my hair down in waves. It's safe to say I'm feeling pretty sexy.
Dancing sandwiched between Rose and Ali to the beat of the Ying Yang Twins "Wait (The Whisper Song)," I look to my right and catch a pair of gorgeous eyes watching me intently. His hair sticks up every which way, but due to the darkness and multi-colored lights, I can't tell the color. It's easy to see he likes what I'm doing, just by his stare and the way his tongue peeks out to wet those sexy lips of his. The way his eyes undress me from twenty feet away makes me feel more desired than ever. In the midst of our stare, some guy with light brown, maybe blond hair, pulls Alice away, and Rose says she's going to the ladies' room. He starts to stand when I feel two hands wrap around my waist from behind. I peek over my shoulder to find a handsome, dark brown haired stranger who's about five-ten smiling at me. When I look back, Mr. Sex-hair is nowhere in sight.
"Any questions?" Siobhan asks, bringing me out of my memory. Shit. I missed everything she said.
"Um," I clear my throat, hoping what I'm about to ask hasn't been covered yet. "Why isn't the FBI taking this? Mr. Cullen was born as a U.S. citizen and still is." I don't generally ask many questions, as all I need to know is usually in the files, but it's my understanding that it's the FBI's job to handle all things domestic, including people.
"Because," she answers with a sigh of frustration, "he became our problem when he made the I'm-going-to-work-with-Aro decision." I close my mouth with a single nod and look back down at my file, doing a quick read. She's clearly in a mood today. "If that's all, you're dismissed. And don't forget, Bella. No mess, again." I nod once more, knowing she means it.
I tell Ty and Ro, my two cohorts, to follow me to my desk. I need to get some sticky notes and tabs for my file. I have a color coded process when looking these over.
"We need to head down to see Alice and fill her in—and I need to talk to all of you," I say, hoping I'm not giving anything away with my face or voice.
Once in the elevator, without moving my body or giving any sign to the cameras that could raise suspicion, I make them both swear not to show any emotion regarding what I'm about to tell them. It's time to come clean about us seeing each other, but I will not repeat myself, so I have to be vague for the moment. Thankfully the cameras only record what they see at all times, and you can turn off the microphones with a push of a button. A lot of other need-to-know conversations between many other people have happened in these elevators.
"I don't believe this file. Edward would never be involved in a sex slave ring, not unless he was taking out the ones in charge."
Ty, keeping his word to not move, disagrees. "You don't know that, B. He's a hit-man for hire and a geek, meaning running security and coms is just up his alley."
I take a deep breath, careful not to move my mouth too much when I speak. "I don't believe it because I know him. Once we talk to Ali, we'll all meet over at my house and I'll explain further. I need to know that no matter what, you two are on my side." After a short pause, they both swear that they are and that they have my back.
"I know we just said we got you, but I think we need to know—should we be worried about how you know him?" Tyler asks seriously. I look at his expression and then over at Rosalie's. They look a little concerned already.
"No," I say after a moment. "And if I'm being completely honest, you should only start to worry if I'm proven wrong." With that the elevator dings and the doors open, ending our mini chat. We make our way over to Ali's desk and talk to her. I tell her the bare minimum about having a new assignment and that I don't want to discuss it here. She agrees to meet tonight at my house to get a plan together.
I remind them to bring the file, their secure laptops, and anything else they need, and to be at my house at seventeen-hundred. "You can eat before you come or you can bring something, I don't really care." That gives me enough time to make sure my house is bug free, even though I know it is, and time for everyone to get their shit together, as well as my own. My cooking is reserved for fun, family, and social get-togethers. This is none of those.
I take my time getting home, making a stop at the McDonald's drive-thru and ordering a double cheeseburger, medium fries, and chocolate shake. I want some crappy food, and this satisfies that craving. Once inside my home, I eat before checking every possible place a bug could be. I can't stop the memories of our first real encounter that start to flood my mind. I was in Paris at an expensive French restaurant near the Eiffel Tower, eating dinner with my intended mark …
As we leave, he falls to the floor with full body convulsions from the poison I slipped in his whiskey. I play my part as a distraught date, and thankfully a security guard takes me outside so I don't have to see what's happening and to get some fresh air. He practically carries me out, taking me to the side of the restaurant where there's an alley. I tell him that I'm okay now and he can let me go, but he doesn't. Instead, he turns me around and says that he can distract me from my pain.
This guy is even dumber than I anticipated.
Even though I know what he's implying, I keep playing my part and look at him, confused. Taking in my expression, thus taking the bait, he kisses me. I grab his balls and squeeze hard. He releases my mouth with a grunt of pain and grabs my wrist. I let him go, drop my clutch, grab his hand and twist, making his arm go behind his back. Kicking him in the back of the knees so he falls, I use my body weight and high-heeled feet to force him on his stomach. Pulling my favorite knife from the holster on my thigh, I kneel with my right knee digging into his back between his shoulder blades. With the knife to his throat, I say, "Make a sound and you die." He nods and I reach for my clutch so I can call Rose for back-up, but his voice stops me.
"You know, that was supposed to be my job in there."
I instantly look up at his smug voice and see the eyes of the man that has haunted me for close to two and a half months. Standing up slowly and placing my heeled foot on the guy's neck, I take in the gorgeous man. His auburn hair looks like someone ran their fingers through it, his lips form a smirk that I just want to bite, his tailored suit oozes sex, and he happens to be pointing a silenced gun at me. If I wasn't on alert, I'd think he looked down right lickable.
The time to leave creeps up on us, but I just don't know what to do or say. Since the gun is pointed at me and not by his side, there's no way I can throw my knife faster than he can shoot. I'm sure he also notices that we need to get going, but looks like he doesn't want to leave. To be honest, I don't want to either. Taking matters into his own hands, he shoots the security guard and kills him.
Now I have blood on my leg and my shoe. "Well, that's disappointing," I mutter, referring to both the blood and the dead guy. I'm rather fond of these shoes, too.
He shrugs a shoulder, saying, "You killed my intended mark. It only seems fair."
Once we call who we need to call, I ask his name. I need to know who I might be dealing with in the future. Edward Cullen. My ride shows up then and I give him my name as I walk past. I leave with a mischievous grin and a finger wave as I start to sit in the passenger seat. I know he'll look into me, and I him. I can't help but wonder if he'll be a problem or just what I need in my life.
I'm pulled away from my search and thoughts by a knock on my front door. It's Rose, followed closely by Tyler and Alice.
"Did you all come here together?" I ask.
"No. We—well I decided—and they agreed, to wait in your driveway until we all got here, and to not come in until the aforementioned time. I figured it would be better for you," Rose says as she walks over to my couch, setting her stuff down on the coffee table and taking a seat. Ty and Ali follow suit.
"Thanks. I needed some time to think about this." I take a deep breath and walk into my kitchen to poor myself a glass of wine and gather myself. I ask if anyone else wants one and Tyler is the only one who doesn't. I walk back in with the glasses and bottle, handing it over to Alice first. Once their glasses are full and I'm sitting, I ask that they just listen and don't ask questions until after I'm done. Then, I start spilling everything.
"You remember when we were on our way back from that job in Venezuela back in August?"
Rose replies, "Yeah, 'cause that was when you said you hadn't been laid in three months." I roll my eyes just like I did back then.
"Yes, well, as you may also remember, Edward started showing up at every job we had after that." They nod, confirming that they do. "And you remember that little stand-off I had with him at the club after the hit in London?" They nod again. They should know, because we haven't been in England since. I clear my throat, then continue. "Well, that's when things got a bit interesting …"
Late June 2015
Moving as fast as I can, I walk out the door and head for my car. I didn't drink tonight for the very reason that showed up. I wanted a clear head while I talked with Rose about our next sabotage. Edward has been showing up so much that I'm starting to wonder if he's deliberately taking any job in hopes of stealing the hit from me. There's so much noise around the entrance of the club that I don't realize he followed after me until I'm opening my car door and hear the sound of shattering glass. I look for the source and see a hole in my windshield.
I gasp and look around for the dickhead. He's on all fours when I see him, suppressed gun in hand, with wide eyes. That motherfucker just shot at me, and he hit my Audi! He almost looks remorseful, but I can't find it in me to care, nor can I find the right words to spew at him.
"Accident. I tripped!" he says.
"An accident?!" I yell, now steaming. I get in, muttering, "I'll show you an accident." I start the car, thankful I backed into my parking space. I pull out fast and drive straight at him. It's too bad he moves just in time.
I don't look back as I speed off down the road, heading for home.
I'm about half way there when my phone rings. I answer without looking at who it is, completely forgetting that Rose has her own ringtone. "I'm sorry, Ro, but I couldn't— "
I'm cut off by his shouting. "You almost ran me over!"
I snort, completely ignoring that fact he has my number. "Yeah, well, you almost shot me! Maybe you shouldn't walk with a gun in your hand if you're incapable of keeping your finger off the trigger until necessary, you dumbass! How you're such a great hitman without knowing that is mind boggling." He laughs at that.
"So you think I'm great, huh?" Fuck! Why do things I don't want him knowing slip out when I talk to him? "I can show you how great I can be. I'll see you in five minutes." He hangs up before I can even process what he's just said. Does he know where I live?
I don't have the time to figure out why and how as I pull into my driveway. I slam my door closed and rush inside to get ready. If he thinks he's going to beat me in my own home, he's got another thing coming. This isn't the first time we've fought, but it is the first time on U.S. soil.
I've had weapons placed around my house, just in case, ever since I moved in. Once done and the lights are off, I take cover against the wall that separates my living room and kitchen, leaving the front door just visible. Since my house is kind of on the smaller side compared to some others on the block, my position makes it easier to hear the back door as well. It's too bad that the only thing that's changed about my appearance are my bare feet, two knife-throwing thigh holsters that hold five each, and my two suppressed Berettas. I've trained in every kind of outfit I could possibly wear when on a job, all shoes included, but I definitely have my preferences. Unfortunately, clubbing attire isn't one. Plus, I bought this with my own money and not with the government's, so, naturally, I care more.
My training starts to kick in when I hear the bushes out front move. I close my eyes, take a few deep, cleansing breaths to slow my heart rate and quiet my breathing, and try to hone in my hearing. I'm on my last breath when the sound of my front door handle hits my ear. Is he really that dumb? Peeking out just enough to see where to shoot, I fire off a shot, purposely grazing his shoulder.
"What the fuck?!" he grits out and starts to shoot randomly.
I duck away from the opening, avoiding a few shards of debris. Asshole! I was really hoping that my house wouldn't get too destroyed in this battle of egos. Yes, I realize I have one, but you kind of need one in this business. Besides, my stats don't lie.
"That was your warning, dick face! You are a trespasser on my property. Don't think for one second I won't use my constitutional right and protect myself!" I know talking will give me away, but I just can't help myself around him. There's some shuffling and then he jumps out from the other side of my kitchen into the dining room, firing off a few shots. They all hit the wall beside and above me since I dropped it like it was hot and ran. Taking cover behind my tipped over coffee table, I get a knife ready. "Your aim's about as good as MapQuest—off point and outdated!"
He laughs, yelling back, "But I will hit you so hard even Google won't be able to find you!"
Goddamn it! I hate that I love how much he's not afraid to give it right back. It's actually not uncommon to see, but it's different with him— I almost crave his disgustingly fun wit.
He starts shooting again, but makes the mistake of doing it blindly; a mistake that works in my favor, as his leg is partly visible. I throw my knife, just missing his leg and hitting the wall across from him. Thankfully, I've worked on my skills enough that I get a second throw in, but barely. At least I drew more blood. I go to shoot, but he beats me to it, hitting the sofa behind me. The bullets stop flying and I realize he has to reload, so I take that as my cue to finally get some rounds out. Still using my coffee table as a shield, I pop up and empty the once used clip at a few spots on the wall where I last saw him. I still care about my house, but sometimes these casualties must happen.
I move into the kitchen after that, but don't get far due to a shin connecting with my stomach. My gun drops and I stumble back a few steps from the force and the surprise of it. I regain my balance and am able to block another kick. He goes to round house me, but I'm too smart for that. I duck and spin with my own leg out, effectively sweeping him off his foot. He lands on his back with a thud and lets out a grunt. I straddle his stomach and pin his right arm down with my foot, throwing a punch to his gorgeous face, striking him in the left cheek. Sadly, he blocks my second hit and flips me over the top of him with a hip thrust. Rolling out of it, I move back slightly, putting my fists up.
We're both breathing heavily and circling each other, waiting for the other to make a move. I can see the spots of clothing torn on him—his shoulder and jean-clad leg, and a few other spots from random debris—and I can only assume what I look like, other than the split part of my dress I can feel at my thigh.
Then it's like something just clicks and we both go for it. He goes to punch, but I duck and hit his ribs. Grabbing his hair, I try to knee him in the face but he blocks and hooks his arm under my leg, making his good shoulder meet the back of my knee. He picks me up then, and my free leg automatically wraps around him. If I go down, he's coming with me. I'm slammed down onto my dining table, and my crystal center piece slides off, crashing to the floor. Fucker. His hands go to my throat, but I pound on both his elbows and he buckles, releasing my neck. I take this opportunity to lock my ankles and squeeze every part of my legs, hard, as I take hold of his wrists. I silently thank God that I wore regular, but seamless, panties.
His only revenge is to pick me up and slam me back down on the table and he does, which makes the wood start to give. It only cracks but it still hurts like bitch, and I cry out in pain. I'm able to keep my legs in place because I've been trained to do whatever is necessary, no matter how much I hurt. He picks me up and slams me down again, because he's a dick, and officially breaks my table. We both moan in pain from the broken wood and the force of our fall.
That's going to feel great in the morning.
Thank fuck we're both slow to get up because that would so not be cool if it barely hurt him. Panting and looking around for something to end this disaster, I see my gun. He sees it too, and dives for it when I do. He's a half second faster somehow and before I know it, I have my own gun to my head.
"Don't even think about reaching for those knives, sweetheart. Now, stand up, slowly, with your hands empty," he demands, his breathing almost back under control. I do as I'm told, much to my chagrin, and face him with a scowl firmly in place. "Good girl."
"Oh!" he laughs out. "Yeah, you didn't need to tell me that you want to." I narrow my eyes a little harder at him. "I could smell you when your leg was wrapped around my head." Damn it. Why does my body have to betray me? Without releasing his stare, he lowers the gun, ejects the mag and pulls the chamber back to dislodge the bullet before tossing it to the floor.
The next thing I know, his hands are holding my head in place and his lips lock with mine. I kiss him back with just as much force, because boy oh boy does it feel good to finally do it. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, locking my ankles. He forces me back against the wall hard enough that the two pictures hanging there fall and break. I gasp in both pain and pleasure. I may hear them break, but I can't find it in me to give a fuck because Edward's mouth is biting and sucking its way down from my lips to my chest.
My fingers weave through his hair, grabbing fistfuls and tugging. "Stop teasing and get on with it," I manage to get out.
He wastes no time and shifts me higher up on the wall. My legs tighten and I hear his zipper. I take it upon myself to pull his shirt over his head once his hands are free. Next, my torn dress is pushed up over my waist and my panties are pulled down as far as they can go. Edward rubs his tip against me, coating himself in my wetness, and then he's inside me. It takes a couple strokes before his thrusting gets harder and faster. If there was a passerby, the sounds of our breathing, moans, and my ass hitting the wall with each thrust is all they'd hear.
I can feel my body tensing, a sure sign of my impending orgasm, after only a few short minutes. Knowing he likes to torture me on purpose, I fully expect him to not let me come, but I am so very thankful I get to. My head falls back and there's no way I can stop the loud whimpers that come out. It's not like I would if I could anyway.
As soon as I come down from that fast high, he pushes off the wall and walks us over to somewhere. It isn't until I feel the cold of the granite surface that I know I'm on my kitchen island. He pulls out and takes my panties the rest of the way off. As he slides his shoes off, I pull my dress off over my head, leaving me in only my red lacey bra. He picks me up off the island and quickly turns me around. Grabbing onto my left shoulder, he pushes my chest down and thrusts right back into me. Again, I can't hold in my sounds.
He pounds into me over and over and over again, keeping one hand on my shoulder and the other on my hip. Apart from the bruises I will have from our foreplay, I'm sure I'll have some from how hard he's gripping me. I'm still sensitive from my wall-gasm, so it doesn't take long before I'm coming again.
"Ahhhh!" This one is so hard that I pound my fist on the countertop as I cry, "Fuck!"
Edward's hand leaves my shoulder and goes to my head, where he pulls me back by my hair. With my back arched and Edward still thrusting hard and fast, he takes this chance to bite and suck on my neck and shoulder. The mixture of pain and pleasure is delicious and prolongs my orgasm. He lets me go and pulls out again, slapping my ass hard. Then he turns me around and I don't know what he wants, but I have other plans. This can't be a one-way fuck. I push hard on his chest and he bats my hands away, but I keep pushing him back into my living room and onto my couch. The smug jerk just smirks.
"My turn, and wipe that smug look off your face before I slap it off." I say as I brace my hands on his shoulders and straddle him, taking him inside me immediately. His smirk disappears as I take a page out of his book and set a fast pace.
"Fuck, I knew you'd look good on my dick," he moans out. I can't even come up with a rebuttal because he grips my hips and starts to thrust up, hard. He lets go of one hip and his thumb goes to my clit, rubbing in fast circles. It's so good, better than I can remember, and I can feel my body tensing for a third time.
"Fuck, come, baby. Make me come."
Edward continues to rub me and soon my breathing becomes more erratic, every muscle tenses more, and that high comes crashing through. My pussy pulses and grips him as he moves me up and down his length. I feel him twitch and he groans, coming inside me. A couple extra hip swivels from me and I'm spent, falling forward to rest against him, chest to chest.
"I hate that I love the way you make me feel." I hear him say after our breathing has leveled.
I huff out a laugh, thankful it's not just me. "Yeah. I hate it, too." We're silent for a few more minutes. "You know this can't happen again, right?"
Edward simply sighs and says, "It shouldn't."
"After that, we decided not to tell anyone, for our job's sake, and that it would be best to not do it again." I don't actually go into detail, but they know we had sex. It's just so much fun to remember it.
"Except that it did, didn't it?" Rose asks to confirm her suspicions.
"Yes, it did. A lot, actually." Twice a week, at minimum, if we weren't otherwise busy. But they don't need to know that right now.
Tyler is the first to speak after blowing out a breath. "I can't say I'm surprised, really." Rose nods in agreement, but doesn't say anything. She actually has her serious thinking face on, probably thinking about the many times I asked her for an odd favor here and there, which was all because of me and him. "I mean, with the way you two would taunt and fight, it was more like flirting and foreplay."
I roll my eyes at him, but nod because he's absolutely right. It was kind of nice having an equal to go against. It's great to win, don't get me wrong, but it gets boring when it doesn't feel like a challenge. It becomes predictable and less enjoyable. Edward makes it more exciting and more of a turn-on than just a job.
"Okay, back to that other thing. You don't believe the file when it says he's involved with Aro." It was said as a statement not a question, but I answer Alice anyway with a nod. "So, what's the plan then?"
I stand up and pace a little, thinking. "Well, I need to talk to him." I look up at all of them, landing on Rose last. "In person." There's a beat of silence again before Rose and Tyler both talk at the same time.
"You can't do that," Tyler says
"No. I won't let you go alone," Rose tells me.
I sigh, putting one hand on my hip and using my other to rub my forehead. I knew they would be against it. "I need to do this, guys. It's the only way I'll be able to tell if he's lying or not. And it's not like I'll be going there alone anyway. One of you will drive me and no one will recognize me because I'll wear a disguise. Let me worry about everything else." I look at everyone with a serious, but slightly pleading look, silently begging them to trust me and let me handle this.
Tyler hangs his head and sighs. "You know I'll always have your back, B, but I wouldn't be a good partner if I didn't express how dangerous this could be, not just for you, but for all of us." I nod, knowing that he's right. "With that said, however; if you think this is the way to go, I'm with ya." I smile at him and nod once more.
"I'm in, too," Ali says.
"And I'll drive you," Rose says. I knew my bestie bitch couldn't say no.
"Thanks guys. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to resort to threats," I say. They laugh, but I wasn't entirely joking. "Okay. Now that you're all in, we do this sooner rather than later. Tomorrow morning, Rose, I need you here by nine-thirty."
The next morning, Rosalie pulls in just before nine-thirty. I've already texted her saying not to come in. I walk out, fully dressed in my disguise, and get in.
"I'm really glad you didn't wear the mermaid-red hair. This red is much more fitting," Rose states.
"And less noticeable," I tack on. I mean, really, this is not my first rodeo at going undercover.
She backs out and we leave for Edward's office. I inform Rose of what I know will happen and what might happen when I get inside. I'm going in with two silenced guns and I pray to God I won't have to use them. Rose thinks it would be smarter to go in unarmed. She might be right.
"It's not like you don't know how to incapacitate a person without a weapon," she says with an eye roll. Again, she may be right, but I don't care. If he lies … well, I hope I can do what I have to.
We get to his office and park. With a parting hug and a wish good luck, I'm out and walking in.
I'm in my office for no other reason than to go over some new contracts and to make an appearance as the boss. Shit needs to be done and sometimes I prefer to do it myself. I do tend to live by the "if you want something done right, do it yourself" saying.
My desk phone rings and the light for the front desk blinks. I look at my watch and it's only one minute after ten. I sigh and pick it up, knowing it must be important if he's calling. "Edward, here. What's up, Luke?"
"Yes, sir. You have a visitor who says that it's an emergency and all she gave me was 'A Slice of Paris, June 14.' She says you would know what it means."
What the fuck?
I switch over to the security cameras in the lobby on my computer. Since we're totally awesome, the color monitor shows the back of a red-headed woman in jeans, chucks, and a leather jacket. I'm pretty sure I know who she is, but I have no clue as to why she would even be here. She wouldn't willingly show up to my place of business unless there was no other option. I realize that I probably shouldn't, but I like to push her buttons.
"Hand her the phone, would you?" He does and I watch her when she puts it up to her ear. Her "hello" has a New York accent to it.
"If we played Two Truths and A Lie, which would be the lie?" I ask.
"The first one would be bullshit," she says, confirming it's her. She refrains from the mouthing off I know she wants to do, which can only mean she's not here for fun.
"Let me tell Luke to set the elevator for you to come right up." I hang up once I've told Luke and make sure all things that need to be secured are just that.
It's not long before there's a knock on my door. I walk over and open it, letting her inside without a word. Once the door is closed and locked, I turn around to find a confused and angry Bella, her red wig and sunglasses off and in her hand, and a manila folder in the other.
"What's wrong?" I ask and she immediately answers with a question of her own.
"Is it true?"
I'm drawing a blank like a moron. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean. Is what true?" I love this woman, but I can't read minds. She's got to be more specific.
Bella grits her teeth and asks again. "About you being new friends with Aro Volturi." She slaps the manila folder down on my desk at the mention of his name. Wrinkling my brow in confusion, I walk behind my desk and sit, pick up the folder and open it. It's a file on me. I flip through the pages, noting that it's pretty thorough, but finding that it has false information.
I hear the click of a gun and look up. Bella is still standing in front of my desk, but now has said gun, with a suppressor, in her hand by her side. Shit just went somewhere I hoped it would never go again. Bella leans forward placing both hands down on my desk, gun included, and asks a third time. I know she won't ask another time—it's her rule.
"I will kill you where you sit." Her voice is firm, but I can see in her eyes that she doesn't want to.
I keep my eyes locked on hers and shake my head. "Not true. You should know that by now." She stares at me, reading me, trying to see if I'm lying. She won't find that, though.
Before she can come to her senses, we're interrupted by the door unlocking and Jasper walking in. Before the door is even open all the way and without looking at who it is, Bella has another suppressed gun out and pointed at him. Jasper is struck dumb by this and freezes in his spot, the door closing on its own behind him. He gathers himself quickly though, and puts on a straight face.
Finally, after what feels like ten minutes, but is really only about two, she looks away and stands up straight. Bella uncocks her guns, puts the external safeties on, and places them both back in her jacket. Jasper, not wanting to set her off, walks over to us slowly, keeping his eyes on Bella. I notice that he also has a manila envelope.
"I'm clearly interrupting something, but this can't wait, Edward."
"It will wait," I tell him, sliding my eyes over to him and then back to Bella. "Where did you get this? They need to check their sources better because I swear this is false."
Bella sighs. "It came from my boss. Where she got the information from is unknown." She chances a peek at Jasper, who is still glaring at her, but returns to me. "It's our new assignment."
"Will you both stop pretending like I'm not standing right here? Who's the new assignment?" Jasper asks, obviously annoyed.
Feeling like there's something fishy, I ignore Jasper's question, asking instead for him to give me the envelope. He looks worried about that and eyes Bella. "I know what it is. If I cared if she saw it I wouldn't be asking, now would I?" He hesitates and I just snatch it out before he can keep it away.
Opening it up, I see my new target's name. I sigh, sad that my hunch was right. Looking up from the papers to Bella, then over to Jasper, I ask when it's supposed to be done. Jasper's answer is hesitant, but he replies with an ASAP. I just nod and try to think.
"What's wrong?" Bella asks in that tone that sounds like she already knows, but needs to hear it.
I hold it out for her, much to Jasper's protest. She takes it and opens it while I simply say, "To answer both your questions, we're supposed to kill each other."
Bella rubs her hands down her face, trying to get herself together. "How are we supposed to do this?" she asks and I'm not sure I completely understand.
Jasper jumps right in. "If you kill him, I'll kill you."
"Duh, but that's not what I meant," she says with an eye roll. "How do we get out of this?" she asks, more to the point. "I believe you and not that file. I just needed to see you when I heard it."
I get why, too. She knows when I'm lying and I both hate and love it. It's great that I can tell when she is as well.
"I'm not sure, yet, but it's obvious to me that we haven't been as careful as we thought. Jasper already suspected and I wouldn't be surprised if Emmett did, too. Who else knows?"
She snorts. "We received your file yesterday. Rose also had suspicions and is currently waiting in the car, and Tyler and Alice are at home, waiting for whatever call comes in."
"You came here alone?" Jasper sounds a bit surprised. We both look at him like that was a stupid question. He holds his hands up in surrender. I shake my head at him. He's a smart man, but sometimes he can't help but state the obvious.
"I think it's time we all have a meeting. Everyone in one room."
Bella huffs out a laugh. "Easier said than done there, Sherlock. What makes you think no one else has gotten our faces as their new targets? Oh! And what makes you think that the rest of our people aren't on those lists, too?"
God. "I hate that I love you," I say, smiling.
"I hate that I love you, too."
Out of my peripheral, I see Jasper shake his head as he groans. "Jesus, get a room."
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