Roaring Twenties One Shot Contest
Title: The Cat's Pajamas
Your pen name: il-bel-mondo
Characters: Bella, Edward, Carlisle, Alice, & Roaslie
Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly, it all belongs to SM. But I can put them in pinstripe suits, suspenders, and flapper big thanks to LaraIsAwkward for being my awesome beta
To see the other entries of the Roaring Twenties One Shot Contest, visit the C2:
www dot fanfiction dot net/community/The_Roaring_Twenties_Contest/75957/
Those damned Cullen Boys think they have such a tight grip on the Chicago scene. I think it's time that we showed them how loose their hold was becoming. No one in Chicago had ever seen anything like us and that was saying something. In a time of flapper girls, fast music, and Tommy guns, a strong woman run organization was--at first--scoffed at. Those scoffs quickly became caught in their throats when they found I didn't like being laughed at.
My name is Isabella Swan, affectionately known as the "Ball Breaker" in South Chicago. It's New Year's Eve, December 1926, and tonight I was putting a well devised plan into effect. The two women I trusted most, and had been at my side for years, was Rosalie Hale--The Enchantrees-- and Alice Brandon--The Gypsy.
Let me go back a little and start from...oh, say, three years ago. The three of us had grown up together, living in Chicago our whole lives. And in December 1923 my brother, Jacob, was escorting us to our first New Year's party--without parents. Rose was nineteen then and Alice and I were only eighteen. Since we were all unmarried, we all still lived with our parents...and their rules.
My brother picked us up and we headed over to the Drake Hotel to ring it in and party the night away. Jacob had a steady girlfriend that performed at the club and was quick to leave us to our own devices. Rose and Alice loved to dance and were quickly immersed in the music. And as per usual an assembly line of men immediately formed behind them . I, on the other hand, hated to dance and sat at a small table just to the left of the stage and dance floor.
And that's when it all started. A tall blonde haired man tried speaking to Jacob's girlfriend, Leah, as she came off stage. Leah brushed past him and ignored his flirtatious smile. A deep scowl set across his face and reddened with anger. The man--who I now saw had piercing blue eyes--yanked back on her wrist, his other outstretched arm circling her waist and pulled her flailing body to him.
The group of men that surrounded him laughed at his antics. And then, out of nowhere Leah was ripped away from the stranger by Jacob. My brother looked a lot like our father; tall, muscular, and very defensive when it came to the ones he loved.
No sooner had I moved my chair back to stand, then I heard the clack of gun fire. Pop....pop...pop. Three shots echoed through the deafening silence the first shot had demanded. Resounding screams and shuffling of people running past had no effect on me.
My feet carried me the few feet over to the slumped, mangled bodies. Leah had blood streaking out of her mouth and my brother was hunched over her--still appearing in a very protective pose. He had been shot twice in the chest.
Slowly, I kneeled and rolled his body to face me. Jacob's death wasn't instantaneous. When I reached him he was still alive, albeit not by much. I could hear his breath mingling with the blood in his throat. Horrible gurgling noises erupted in between his words. "So.....sorry.....tell mom."
"Ssssh, Jake. You can tell mom yourself." I tried comforting him, tears streaming down my face. "Everything's going to be fine."
"Love y-you.....tell mom." He said mom, in a slurred, drunken way, elongating the mmm sound at the end. And then there was nothing. No gurgled breaths, no blood filled words of whispered messages......nothing.
I was found alone, surrounded by the dead bodies of my brother and his girlfriend, silently crying. The police wrapped me in a heavy, scratchy blue wool blanket. Once I was escorted out of the scene and the hotel, I passed my two terrified friends.
Rose and Alice took the officers' place--flanking either side of me--and helped me to the ambulance. Insisting I was fine was futile, the paramedics wanted to check me out anyway. Both of my friends were focused on me and so they noticed nothing when I looked over their heads and saw evil, piercing blue eyes warning me.
The man icily smiled at me before he got into the back of a black car. I had been given my warning.
See, here's the thing, I don't like being told what to do. But I also wasn't a fool. When I said that I saw nothing but the aftermath, no one questioned me--except the knowing stares of my best friends. Telling the cops would only bring the same fate upon myself and most likely my parents.
One of the officers drove us home, the whole ride I was giving my best "not now, later' look. All I could see behind my tear filled eyes, was the mental picture of my brother bloody and dying. And as we were ushered through the front door of my family's home--I , instantaneously, knew that my parents had been told. My mother's face was a mirror reflection of my own.
Soft sobbing hitched in her throat as she gathered Rose, Alice, and I into a maternal hug full of grief and need. My father's face was in twisted agony. Bent on being strong and paternal but wanting to break down and feel for his son. Jake was my father's pride and joy--he hadn't ever known how to deal with a baby girl and so I had been left to my mother's care alone.
Weeks following my brother's death, I shut myself in my room. I couldn't talk to anyone yet. My parents fought at night and I stayed awake listening to their screams. Funny thing about grief and pain--it makes people say the most hurtful, anger filled things to the loved ones they have left.
It had been almost a month before I emerged out of my self imposed cocoon. And, odd as it sounds, the first person I wanted to talk to was my brother. My father was at work, and my mother went to the market. I got dressed, phoned the girls, and started my walk to the cemetery.
There was a small, stone bench just off the walkway. Taking my seat there, I breathed out a heavy sigh and stared down at the wet, green grass that covered my brother's grave.
"Jake, I need to know what to do." It was all I had been thinking about. The icy blue eyes of a blonde haired demon had been haunting my sleep, I needed to fix something to make him go away. The wind blew around me, swirling my hair into a mess and a page of the Chicago Tribune smacked into my side, and the fluttery slapping of the paper against my coat reminded me of a bird's wings.
My fingers grabbed at the seemingly alive paper to ball it up. What I saw gave me pause, those evil dead eyes set in black and white with the same calculating smile. The headline above the picture read: Carlisle Cullen Heads Up Annual Charity Ball This Weekend.
My head was berated with images of New Year's Eve and everything that had happened in the past month. HE, Carlisle Cullen, was to blame for it all. Sitting at my brother's grave, I read the rest of the article. The man was a widower, with only one child, a boy my age named Edward.
The demon's wife had died from some unnamed sickness and he paraded about like some honest charioteer. He was a murderer, and he needed to pay. I knew then exactly what I must do. My friends were walking across the cold, winter ground of the cemetery. I looked up at their approaching forms with a new determination in my eyes.
That was it, with my stomach full of vengeance and my brother's face at death carved in my mind, I left there with new resolutions. Jacob had money stashed in his room--to buy Leah a ring--I used it under the guise of attending college to leave my parents house. They were not pleased with either of my decisions. I should have settled down with one of the neighborhood boys and started a family.
Such trivial things were of no importance to me--at least until I finished what I wanted. Rose and Alice both moved in with me--under the same pretenses. It was there, in an empty apartment, that I told my friends everything that had happened and what I had decided. Unbelievably, they agreed with me and stood by my side.
And, so here we were, three years later and so close to what I wanted. Vengeance.
Prohibition was in full swing and selling liquor was the money business in Chicago. The first year after my brother's death we all worked and scrounged our money together. Then through some connections Rose had, that I didn't want to know about, we got some connections to get alcohol.
Our small Italian neighborhood was quick to start ordering from locals--even if they thought it was local men they were bargaining with. I hired two of Rose's semi-stupid cousins to front our little business. They bartered and dealt what I told them to, to the small Irish pubs and bars near our apartment.
Over the past two years our small operation has grown and is now controlling a large part of Bridgeport (essentially the Irish hub of Chicago),the 'Polish Triangle' by Milwaukee Avenue, and the Polish area of 'six corners' in Jefferson park. Currently, we were trying to persuade the bar owners and small businesses--who dealt in illegal drinking and gambling--of Wicker park and the Ukrainian Village to use our services.
We had started to gain notoriety. People now knew that women ran this organization and us having a large portion of the Irish, Jewish, Polish and Ukrainian neighborhoods was nothing short of extraordinary. Carlisle Cullen was of Greek descent. His 'family' held ownership over the Greek neighborhoods, around the Annunciation Greek Orthodox Cathedral, Hyde Park and Kenwood. They had also formed an alliance with the Italians and so they had equal run over Little Italy.
In my quest for retribution, I had turned my emotions off and focused solely on my goal. Rose used her otherworldly beauty to gain the affections of men she could care less for. Once they gifted her what she wanted, she left them staring after her. Alice had an uncanny ability to tell me if something I was going into blind would work out or not. And I....well, I was a cold hearted bitch that would cut the balls off any man that stood in my way.
We were an unprecedented triad of brains, beauty and malice. And since we were unattainable, we were also held in the highest regards of sportsmanship--men wanted to possess us and what power we held. But that was a hard feat to accomplish, not many people had actually seen us. Rose had a few intriguing people whom might recognize her. But those men also knew it would be hard to talk if I cut their tongue out.
The men that worked under us had not seen us. There were ranks and only the highest up had been privy to a face to face conversation. You'd think, 'Wow, all of this had to be hard to get.' It wasn't. What was surprising was how many bare knuckle, thug hoods didn't like their businesses being run by the Greek and Italian Mafia. They were easily swayed and stood--at first-- next to us and then for us.
There was no easy way to get at Carlisle. I had tried multiple times in the past three years. Each time I'd have to turn away and go back to waiting. He was heavily guarded at all times and never went anywhere alone...ever. But, Rose gave me the perfect idea after she had seen Cullen's son Edward, drunk and living it up with a burlesque girl. He was with his friend's Emmett "Dimples" McCarty and Jasper "Texas Specs" Whitlock.
New Year's Eve parties always had the booze flowing and the last one I'd attended, may have ended tragically, but I recall that there were plenty of those types of girls around.
We spent the day prepping and getting ready for the evening's events. Rose got herself ready first and, as always, looked exquisite, then she went to work on Alice and I. Alice's cute bob hair style was trendy and after she walked out in a short, straight lined dress, her hat pulled down around her face--just low enough that the tips of her locks jutted out. She could have passed for Louise Brooks.
I stepped into a long, floor length, shimmering white dress. It hugged every curve that was genetic and the ones that were aided by devices that could be considered torturous. My hair was curled and then set in loose curls. I tried staring down my nose to watch Rose paint my lips a deep red but I only made my sight go blurry. When I stood, slipped on my shoes and stepped from the room I heard Alice whisper.
"Attagirl." When I stared her down she fleetingly laughed and grinned at me. "Let's get a wiggle, and if you don't look like Greta Garbo."
"Mmhmm," I eyed Alice, trying not laugh at the fact she compared me to the great Garbo herself. "Says you." I retorted simply before we headed out.
The driver was waiting in front of our apartment building with the door to a brand new breezer. I shot a wonder filled glance and Rose who shrugged it off and climbed in. I knew she was behind the extravagant car but I held my tongue.
My gasp was soft and I'm sure no one heard it when we pulled in front of the Drake Hotel. Banishing the place from my thoughts for the past three years had done nothing to quell my unease at seeing it again. It was almost like facing an attacker face to face for the first time since the act happened. But I was no longer that girl...hell I was no longer a girl at all. A woman, a strong, powerful woman--that's who I was now.
We stepped from the car and strutted into the lobby. All eyes were on us, I could feel the lustful stares of men and the heated jealous gazes of women all around. And, as I had hoped, no one recognized us. No longer were there three young unknown girls walking in there. They had been replaced by strong, assured women who didn't give a passing glance to anyone.
The night stayed uneventful until an hour before midnight. The Cullens and the Italian mafia family--the Volturi--had made their entrance. Edward made a bee line for the bar and man if he hadn't grown up since the last time I'd seen him. Two years ago I caught a glimpse of him visiting his mother's grave while I sought out my brother's spirit for comfort.
And if he hadn't become the cat's meow, I didn't know anyone who had.
"Ciggy?" I turned at the voice and stared flabbergasted at Alice. She had gotten her hands on a cigarette girl's box and was actually pretending to be working.
"No, thanks." I said, confusion on my face.
Leaning in a bit closer she whispered to me. "I'm going to make a round and make sure everything is copacetic." I nodded and turned slightly away from her as she walked off--offering smokes up to people she passed.
Well, at least I know if we ever fail she has a back up career. But, obviously the girls had been doing a bit of planning themselves. Maybe, ten minutes later I heard the band conductor clearing his throat over the microphone. That hussie, Rose, had finagled her way onto the stage.
A low whisper erupted behind me and a man was clamoring about how excited he was to see her. Turning with a mission in my mind, I gave him the deadliest stare I had. He must have remembered the warning he'd been issued because he shut the bumping gums up quick.
Rose gave me a look and I instantaneously knew what she was doing. Carlisle Cullen had a fascination with singers and just as he had with Leah, focused all of his attention on the stage. I looked over at his table and could see them all salivating at her very appearance. She was putting herself in a position I wasn't comfortable with. I was my brother's sister and if Cullen laid one hand on her I would react the same way Jacob had.
Loyalty was something I held dear and the only two people I love were now prancing themselves in the public eye that we'd tried so hard to stay out of. But tonight was our golden opportunity. It was all or nothing. Rose stayed near the rear of the stage waiting for the conductor to have the attention of the entire room.
Once all eyes were on him and Rose I made my move. Walking between stilled bodies was easy and I found myself at the bar--elbow to elbow-- with Edward within seconds. His gaze was the only one not directed at my friend, his were cast down into a glass of what I thought to be bourbon. I saw no trace of 'Dimples' or 'Texas Specs' and was grateful for their absence.
Literally, I had to peel my eyes away from him, take a deep breath, and compose myself. His Greek features stood out prominently. Strong chiseled jaw, dark hair with a coppery sun kissed hue streaking through it and I was surely positive his eye color would be anything but brown.
I felt a nudge at my hand, the slick coolness of condensation, coating the outside of a glass, pressed into my skin. My eyes darted upward, into the smiling face of the bartender, then back down to the glass. It was a tall glass, with some sort of fancy pink colored drink in it.
"Thanks, pal, but I don't drink juice." I smirked at the bartender and he smirked back, tilted his head to my evening's target.
"He bought it for you ma'am." I nudged the glass back toward him and asked for a bourbon neat.
"I just thought a pretty drink for a pretty doll," the smooth, silky voice next to me spoke. Sure enough when I looked at him--sparkling green eyes the color of Kelly Irish green. Ironic.
"Thanks, but no thanks, daddy. This dame buys her own drinks." I took a sip of my fresh made drink. "And you don't have to feed me no lines."
"Whoa there, tomato, what's eating you?"
"Can't a girl like to get her own drinks?" I snipe back in question, an answer to his question. My eyes were drawn to his. I saw that he was greedily eating up my snarky attitude.....and my gams.
"Are you razzing me, sister?" Edward asked, his words were tinged with the hint of laughter.
I stared him down, while he was having his laugh, before I remember that I wasn't really here to socialize.....I had an agenda. I shook my head 'no' and let an easy smile slide over my face. I was suddenly all grins and flirtation.
"You one of the hoofers?"
"No, daddy, just a girl looking to have a good time."
His idea of a good time was on par with what I expected it to be. Within minutes we were on the elevator, and if there hadn't been an attendant we'd have been necking during the ride. Evidently, the Cullens had a regular room reserved just for their use. The room was dimly lit and extremely quiet. This was the first time that I had seen no bodyguards, security or "watchers"--as I called them.
"What's your name, doll?" he asked as he toed off his shoes and loosened the bow tie of his tuxedo.
"Bella." I answered honestly. "And yours?"
"Edward. Bella? That's an interesting name." He paused, his brow furrowed in thought. "Italian?"
Again, I just shook my head. I didn't want to give him too many details, so I stepped closer to him and began to pop open each button on his crisp, white shirt. My fingers trailed just under the opening and traced over the definition of his pecs and abs.
Edward shuddered under my touch and smirked down at me. I peered into his eyes and watched the dramatic change take place as I slid my fingers along the waistline of his trousers. He griped my wrists and stilled my hands exploration. Taking a step back, I watched as he shrugged off his shirt and then stalked towards me--a wicked grin in place. I kept stepping back until my legs hit on the edge of the bed.
He chuckled and moved to place a small, chaste kiss on my shoulder. It was now my turn to shiver under his touch. "Bella, I want to ravage you right now." He breathed over my skin. "But I have to stop myself and make sure to take my time and enjoy you."
The cocky bastard really did believe I was just some other dumb Dora and not a moll. His lithe fingers gripped the zipper of my dress and tugged. The slow buzz sound of him undoing my dress rang out loudly like a fly in my ear. My straps were pushed off my shoulder until my dress no longer frame my chassis.
Shimmery white fabric pooled around my heel clad feet. Edward sucked in a quick breath, his eyes roaming my body. I groped at his belt while he fussed with the clasp of my bra. The rustling of our clothes mixed with the sound of our labored breathing.
I fell back on the bed under Edward's body weight. Naked skin pressed into naked skin. His hands were everywhere all at once; touch seared my skin. The fire spread under his fingertips as he reached under me to cup my ass. In one swift movement he rolled us so that he was now under my weight.
Straddling him made me feel powerful and in control--two things I hold dear. And, it's not exactly that I'm inexperienced but I'd only done this once and that was over a year ago. So, we'll say I was out of practice. Edward moved himself on to his elbows and began kissing my stomach. I moaned out as his mouth moved to cover my breast.
His teeth pulled at my hardened nipple and my thighs clamped around his hips. I could feel his erection straining against my thigh. My hands found their purchase on his strong shoulders. Raising my hips, I stared into his endless green eyes while he gripped his cock in his palm and guided it to my entrance.
Slowly, I lowered myself down on his shaft. The tightness, that came from lack of having sex, was resistant to stretch. Edward growled in response--his dick inching his way inside me--and I dug my nails into the meat at the curve of his neck. My teeth were grinding together at the sheer girth of him pushing me from the inside out.
"Fuck....Bella...you're too fucking tight."
I raised back until the tip of his cock was barely inside me. Quick, short strokes helped ready me and coated his cock in my juices. After a few minutes of agonizing want, I slammed down on him.
"OH SHIT," we grunted out in unison.
Edward's hands groped and grasped down my back and then on my hips. He helped me in rocking my body down on him. My whole body was overcome with raw emotions of pleasure, need, and how much I could have been a normal woman at twenty-one, instead of the cold, hateful woman I was now.
I began pushing down harder on him, all of my fury and anger radiating out of me. I wanted so badly to give way to those feelings and let them go, but I couldn't.....I just couldn't. Edward's face changed and I looked away from his knowing gaze. His physical agility aided him in effortlessly rolling us once more.
Staying submerged inside me, he looked down at me. When I refused to turn my face to look at him, he reached out, the pads of his fingers grazing my lips and resting on my chin. His thumb hooked under there and he gently turned my face to him.
"Why are you crying? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?" Rapid questions were being fired at me.
"I-it's j-ju-just too much," I sniffled out and looked at Edward's worried expression. I knew he didn't understand and I wasn't ready to explain it. He was so close, my hands tangled in his hair and pulled his face down to mine, our lips crashing into each other.
As our mouths parted and our tongues met, Edward began moving inside me. Friction and heat built between us as our bodies gliding along one another. Edward's hands griped my face in his strong hold, our eyes locked in a weird, astute gaze.
My back arched, my chest pressing into his, as my orgasm overtook control of my body. Sweet, breathy moans escaped my mouth and filled the quiet air around us. Edward began having jerky strokes and I assumed his was close to his own release.
His body bucked into my hips harder and then stilled between my legs. His sweaty, wet hair splayed out onto my skin, his head rested on my breasts. It seemed like hours of silence had passed before either of us had uttered a word.
"Bella, please talk to me." He rolled on his side but left his arm lying over my midsection.
"Did you come to the New Year's party three years ago?" Might as well start from the beginning.
"Is that the one where those two people were shot?" I nodded, simply affirming his question. "Yeah I was there but I......um...I left early."
"Kinda like you did tonight?" I queried, not really knowing why I bothered to ask. He was a means to an end.
"Why did you ask about that party?"
"It was my brother." My whispered words probably wouldn't be audible if he hadn't been focused on my answer.
"Your brother? You were the young girl?" His startled expression told me that he knew that his father had been the one to kill my brother.
"Yes, and your father." His mouth did that fish, gasping for breath thing.
"Then," realization hit his eyes. "Why me? If you knew that he was my father then, why me?"
"I was going to kill you." I admitted, without wanting to. "But I can't. I wanted to take away the only thing he had, just like he'd done to me. But I can't hurt you."
Edward laid there completely silent and looked like he was lost in thought. I expected him to bound from the bed and bolt from the room. Naked.
"You're the girl."
"Yes, I'm the girl." Tears were streaming down my face. Reliving my life's greatest tragedy wasn't what I wanted to do either. I wanted my revenge. "And, while I can't hurt you.....I will hurt him."
Edward knew exactly who I was speaking of. "Maybe you don't have to." His voice was very low, almost as if he thought someone might overhear us. I gave him the hardest look I could manage through my crying. "Maybe....maybe I could do it for you?"
"No. Why would you? You're trying to trick me. I don't like being toyed with, Edward." The ferocious passion in my voice was resilient, even with my obvious sadness.
It seemed like some of my sadness left me and traveled over the bed and into Edward. His green eyes almost paled. "My mother dying from an 'illness'." He scoffed over the way his mother died. "It really was my mother pushed down the stairs by my jealous, overbearing father. So, I could do it for you...and for my mother."
All of his changes, since I'd seen him last, made perfect sense now. He'd visibly aged and had started drinking and partying. He stayed in his own spotlight and distanced himself from his father's shadows. "Edward, I don't know if I could let you," I mumbled more to myself then him. "I need this. It's all I have anymore."
"No, it's not." Edward's hand cupped my cheek gently. "You have me now. Bella, I've been alone since my mother died. My father doesn't trust me enough to allow people to stay around me. The endless string of women proves just that."
"I've been alone so long with just my hate to comfort me." I opened up to him. "I want to be with you, but the only way I can do that is if he's gone."
"I've been living in the darkness of the city and now you can be my light. Let me be yours as well?"
I rung in the New Year wrapped in Edward's comforting embrace. Alice listened and watched the room for most of the night and then caused a distraction near the Cullen table, long enough for Rose to exit the room unnoticed. Alice had heard enough to know that Rosalie's show caught Carlisle's attention.
He would have treated her the way he handled Leah and then my plan wouldn't be where it is now. I mean, how much better could this have gone. I wanted to take away his heir, his only child, the only thing he had. And I had succeeded in not only taking him, but falling for him and then he'd be the one to off the man I was disgusted by. His own flesh and blood would be his demise.
Two days after our night together, Edward rung me.
"Bella, can you meet me?" his voice was quiet through the crackling phone line. I knew he had to be somewhere that he couldn't be heard speaking to me. I hurriedly agreed and waited for him to give me directions.
I pulled up to the front of a huge mansion. It was secluded on the outskirts of Chicago. The house was encased under large trees, the only neighbors, the ancient elms and oaks. There was one lone car parked to left of the house and as I neared the front door I noticed that it was slightly ajar.
Loud, booming voices called out from inside.
"You killed her." Edward's strangled words floated out to me. Unthinkingly, I nudged the door further open. No staff appeared to tell me to leave. Edward must have sent them off.
"She was going to leave me, Edward." Carlisle's unmistakably icy voice combated Edward's frantic intonation. "I would not allow it, you know that."
I knew that Edward would have to be affected by his father's nonchalance over murdering his mother. My feet carried me over the threshold and into the foyer. Their voices clearly off to my left. Edward's sounded further off than Carlisle's. Again, as I turned, I saw that this door, too, was slightly open.
Through the crack, I peeked into the room. Carlisle sat in a chair, his back to me, and Edward stood fiercely in front of him. I must have made some sort of noise because Edward's eyes flashed up at the door. His face smoothed out, the wrinkles of irritation leaving, and that easy smirk showed on his lips.
I heard--rather than saw--the clinking of a glass being set on the table, the ice jostling against the crystal.
"Is someone there?" Carlisle asked, agitation in his words. "I thought I dismissed the staff for the day."
"Why, because you don't want them seeing how unaffected you are on the anniversary of my mother's death?" Edward shot at him and I gasped loudly, I had no idea about the date. "Come on in." Edward waved me in and his smile grew at my sight. "I have a gift for you."
My eyes narrowed and I wished that I had brought a weapon, Edward was double crossing me. But, like a lamb awaiting slaughter, I stood still. Carlisle then turned and saw just what his present was. The evil demon smiled happily between me and his son.
"And what a wonderful gift she is, Edward. What's the reason for the gift?"
"On the day you killed my mother, I watched from my room and said nothing....did nothing. Today, on her anniversary, I bring you the girl whose brother you murdered. Just like me, she watched you do it, but unlike me she spent the last three years doing something about it." When Carlisle didn't connect the dots fast enough, Edward did it for him. "The Irish woman, the "Ball Breaker". You created her with your actions."
Carlisle went slack jawed as he stared in wonderment at me. Edward took his silence to finish his thoughts. "So, father, I brought her here to tell you that I'm hers." Carlisle gasped and spun around on him. "My heart belongs to her as does my loyalty."
"I will kill you both, Edward, don't test me."
"You won't have the strength," Edward cooed over at him, like an innocent boy standing in his father's fury. "Your heart won't beat much longer and my gift is not to you, but to her."
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, boy!" Carlisle screamed but his words cut off amidst the sound of his hacking cough. His eyes were wide as he struggled for his breath between barks.
"Enjoy your drink?" Edward toasted his father with his still full glass of liquor. Carlisle glared at him as Edward turned his glass and poured the contents on the floor. "It won't be long now, I promise. I'll afford you a quick death out of respect as my father. But, as I said, my gift is to Bella. She can now watch the man--who murdered her brother--die at her feet. Her hands clean of it all."
I stayed silent. Edward had not betrayed me, but had taken away my pain and my guilt. He shouldered it all for me, and I knew, now, that I loved him. Carlisle dropped to his knees and I stepped in front of him. As he kneeled before me, I remembered my brother over Leah's corpse. I stepped back, just out of his reach and smiled down on him.
His body lurched under the coughs, his lungs expelling blood with each forceful burst. No sooner than he slumped into a heap on the floor, did I release the breath I was holding.
It was over. I felt the weight lifted off me and could instantly relish in how much easier my breaths came. Now, I had a new goal in my life. To rebuild it all and try to be happy with Edward.
The headlines the next day read as follows: Carlise Cullen Found Dead Of Apparent Suicide On Wife's Death Anniversary. Yes, vengeance was mine.
20's slang definitions:
Tomato - a female
Says you - a reaction of disbelief
Razz- to make fun of
Moll - A gangster's girl
Line - Insincere flattery
Hoofer - Dancer
Get a wiggle on - get a move on, get going
Flapper - A stylish, brash, hedonistic young woman with short skirts & shorter hair
Dumb Dora - a stupid female
Doll - an attractive woman
Dame - a female
Copacetic - Wonderful, fine, all right
Ciggy - cigarette
Cat's Meow - Something splendid or stylish; similar to bee's knees; The best or greatest, wonderful.
Breezer - an convertible car
Attaboy - well done!; also Attagirl!