Thanks Jellybaby for reading through this very lonnnnng chapter and fixing the large amount of grammatical errors. And to Virginiiiiiiiiiiiie for helping me with translation. Much love!

A/N: I'm revamping this story. There won't be much changes in the first few chapters. But if you read the old version you'll notice the huge change in chapter 3.

Also, this story has been nominated for Best Fight Scene and Hottest Lemon on Fanfic-n-tastic Awards! Link is on my FF profile. Please be the bunch of dears I know y'all are and go vote. :D

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the twilight characters, quotes, recognizable places or song references. And my cancer and assassin facts may or may not be accurate. I claim plot only. This is purely for entertainment. I hope you enjoy either way.

Claimer: I did write the Poem called 'Grim' that Bella recites in Creative writing class and the song Bella's sings to Beau. I am no great poet but I try. Please review. If I'm crappy, please tell me.

Warning: Rated R for graphic language, violence and sex.


Blood's thicker than water, and when one's in trouble.

Best to seek out a relative's open arms.

- Thomas Jefferson

(Bella)

It was our first day of school at Forks High School. I gaped at the size. The parking lot of our school in Phoenix, Arizona was bigger than the school itself here. My family moved here because my brother, Beau, had cancer and there was a guru doctor here who ensured he could cure him.

It was freezing here. It was so cold it made my teeth hurt, but I didn't care. I would have gone to Antarctica, sat with penguins in an igloo, eating raw fish if someone was there who could cure Beau.

He was one year older than I, so we did not have the same classes. This made it tricky for me to watch over him. I tried not to hover or be obvious about it as I knew it would aggravate him. He hated being the boy with cancer, so I promised to keep it a secret and I would. These people meant nothing to me anyways.

It was as if I had a detector for him; I could find him instantly in a crowd. I would watch him in my peripheral vision, because he had begun chemo a few weeks prior, which made him weak. He shaved his head so people believed he preferred it that way. He did not want pity; pity was weakness in our family's eyes.

I had exchanged a few 'hellos' with people, but could not remember their names. I remembered the faces, because I had photographic memory. I couldn't forget their faces, even if I wanted to—some of them I really didn't care to remember. All the girls' behavior were beyond odd and irritating. Who was this Edward Cullen every single one of them kept spouting about?

I walked into the cafeteria and surveyed the area; I did not spot my brother, so I made my way to the lunch line.

A hand touched my ass. Before the culprit could even squeeze, I had slammed them against the wall with one arm bent at a painful angle behind their back.

"What is your name, fils de pute?" I whispered into the boy's ear, sounding seductive—I could not help that; I had a sexpot voice. He grunted an obscenity in reply, while struggling, so I slammed him against the wall harder. He cried out, and I smiled.

"Mike Newton," he gasped out, finally.

I tousled his spiky blonde hair with my free hand. "Well, Mike Newton, if you ever touch my ass again, I will break both your hands so severely that you'll never be able to beat off again. Comprendre?"

He muttered something I could not understand; his face was smashed against the wall. I grabbed chunks of his hair and yanked his head up, to repeat, "Understand?" in English.

"Yes!" he cried and I smiled, while stroking his cheek with the back of my hand.

"Good boy," I shoved him away from my body and watched him stumble. "Now run along and behave."

I was aware I was speaking to him as if he was a dog; most boys were dogs in my book. Not that I did not appreciate the male species, but I tended to steer clear of immature boys and opted for older men.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw Beau stomping my way; he was fuming. I turned and smiled; registering all the gaping and whispering but ignoring them.

"What was that for?" he whispered sharply.

I linked our arms and began to walk, again, to the lunch line. "The little perverti deserved it. He grabbed my ass."

Beau froze; his head snapped in my direction. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." I laughed at his dumbfound expression.

He shook his head after a moment. "Did you do any damage?"

I shrugged, tugging him toward the lunch line. "Besides his ego—no."

He smiled; I loved seeing that. Thank you, you little pervert. "He got off easy then. Remember the last guy who tried that?"

I nodded, laughing at the memory as we stepped to the back of the line. "Yes. I believe his arm is partially functional. I'm sure he can still use it to walk his dog." I waggled my eyebrows at the innuendo.

He doubled over laughing and a few heads turned in our direction. I smiled; loving his joy. "What am I going to do with you?" He asked, wiping tears away with the back of his hand.

I shrugged. "I figured I'd direct all the attention to me so people wouldn't bother you." I whispered in his ear so only he could hear.

He quickly looked at me with wide-eyed amazement and a glowing smile his face. "Thank you, soeur."

"You're welcome, frère."

(Edward)

"Hello Edward," Jessica said breathily; trying to be seductive. Keyword, trying.

I leaned against my baby; my silver Volvo. "Hello Jessica." I grinned crookedly, knowing that would fucking melt her.

She pressed her body against mine and was about to say something she thought was sexy when a clean ass, midnight blue Chevy Z71 almost hit her while fucking fish tailing it into the spot next to mine, with The Hives, 'Walk Idiot Walk' vibrating the tinted windows. I instantly shoved Jessica out of the way and protected my baby with my body. I was pissed the fuck off and was about to snap when the driver leaped out and threw Jessica a withering look. She was fucking gorgeous; in a mysterious way none of these bitches could pull off.

She sauntered past Jessica's shaking body. "Watch yourself, le petite." In a throaty seductive voice that instantly made my dick stir.

She didn't even fucking notice me as she flitted to the passenger side where a bald guy was slumping out. He looked liked her, only stockier; it was obvious they were kin. They walked away without a second glance or apology, which only made my dick stir more.

Jessica was fucking pissed. "What the fuck does 'le petite' mean?" She butchered the pronunciation.

I shrugged even though I knew it meant 'little one'. I shook my head, chuckling as I walked away from Jessica. We'd pick up where we left off later.

I noticed the sexy, Chevy driver throughout the morning. She didn't seem to notice a goddamn soul, except her brother. She was watching him like a fucking hawk from the corner of her eyes, as if she was a professional bodyguard. I understood family protectiveness, but, damn, she was intense with it.

My brother, Jasper, and I were sitting at our normal table in the cafeteria when the bald guy walked by. Jasper greeted him and they started talking. I was contemplating which bitch from the slew of girls I wanted to blow my load, when I heard commotion and looked up to see sexpot slamming ass-hat Newton into the wall, like a fucking cop.

"Merde," the bald guy cursed under his breath. That word was common knowledge, it meant 'shit'. "Excuse me," he said fleetingly; rushing away.

"Who are these fucking people?" I asked, watching sexpot tousle Newton's hair with her mouth moving right by his fucking ear. I irrationally wished I was ass-hat.

"I believe they're the Swan's. They just moved here from Phoenix, Arizona, but I think they're originally from South Louisiana. Dad is treating, Beau, the one I just spoke with, for cancer." Jasper said quietly, intently watching the drama unfold.

My head snapped to Jasper. "He has fucking cancer that goddamn young?"

He nodded sadly. "Yes. Lung cancer if I'm not mistaken. The girl, his sister, is extremely protective over him."

"I've noticed." I muttered, watching her stroke Newton's face. Little pussy looked like he was about to cry.

"She's awfully strange." Jasper said, tilting his head to the side. "Not like most girls."

I nodded, watching her shove Newton away, causing him to stumble. Newton scuttered away with his tail tucked in his vagina. Sexpot turned around and faced me, smiling sweetly, feigning innocence. She almost looked sheepish. She was a little conundrum. All that spunk did not go with her tiny frame, innocent chocolate eyes and sweet smile.

I was fucking disappointed to see she was smiling at her bald brother and not me. He looked pissed when he whispered something to her; she merely linked their arms and tugged him along to the lunch line. They spoke while walking and everyone was gawking and whispering about them; neither of them noticed or cared.

At the lunch line she must've said something funny because the bald guy doubled over laughing. I wanted to know what the fuck she said to cause that reaction. It was irritating that I wanted to do that. I normally didn't give a shit about what girls said. She said something else and the bald guy quickly looked at her with an awed expression; they were fucking pissing me off, so I looked away.

I grinned crookedly at Lauren when I noticed she was eyeing me. I cocked an eyebrow at her, then nodded sideways to the exit. She smiled and nodded. I stood and walked out of the cafeteria, not bothering to look and see if she was following me. I knew she would.

(Bella)

We were almost to the buffet when my arm began to feel heavy. I quickly looked at my brother and noticed he was slightly swaying and his eyes were half closed.

I gripped his forearm to support him. "Beau, are you okay?" I whispered in his ear.

"Yeah." He whispered back; barely audible.

"Have you taken your meds?"

He leaned his head against my shoulder. I scanned the cafeteria; no one was watching. "No, I don't need them." he said.

"Oh, yes you do." I said, louder than necessary. The girl in front of us glanced over her shoulder then quickly looked away when she saw my withering gaze.

Beau sighed. "I don't want to draw attention to myself, Bella."

"We won't. We'll get our food first then I'll go to my locker and get your meds. Easy, discreet." I said grabbing two trays.

He sighed again. "Fine." He knew it was fruitless to argue with me. I was stubborn.

After setting my brother up at a table, I slipped out the cafeteria and hauled it to my locker.

When I was at my locker and scouring through the Skittles of pills my brother took, I heard moaning for the janitor's closet. Not the type of moaning that someone made when they were in pain. Oh no, these people were definitely not in pain. I laughed and almost dropped the Ziploc bag of pills.

By the time I finally found the pill I needed, the moaners stepped out of the janitor's closet. I cleared my throat, smirking. This was highly entertaining. The moaners whirled in my direction and I nearly dropped the Ziploc bag again.

The boy was gorgeous with his bronze, messy hair, angular, male model features and piercing, green eyes. I registered the girl's face but ignored it. I couldn't care less about the girl, but I wanted a name to go with that gorgeous fallen angel face.

He looked stunned and said nothing. I tossed the Ziploc bag into my locker then slammed it for that was the only way it would close properly—I had some drugs in there the junkies here would be itching for.

I tucked the pill in my pocket, smiling lightly at him. "Bonjour, my name's Isabella—call me Bella."

He cleared his throat and raked his fingers through his hair, looking slightly dazed and really confused. "Um. I'm Edward."

I nodded, walking around him and pausing. "Have a nice day, Edward." The girl was fuming, and I did not care. I sauntered to the cafeteria for I truly needed to hurry. If it had not been my brother I would have stayed to play.

(Edward)

I walked into the janitor's closet and Lauren walked in after me.

As she entered, I turned her against the door; hiked up her mini jean skirt and pushed aside her thong. I rubbed her clit with two fingers while yanking a condom from my wallet with my teeth. Moans instantly began to vibrate from her throat and her pussy seeped with wetness. I told her to keep it the fuck down, while I rolled the condom on.

I pushed inside her fucking thrilling warmness and thrusted harder and harder. She loved that shit—kinky little bitch. As the pressure and pleasure built I couldn't help my moans either. Her moans grew louder as I plunged further. I gripped her wrist and pinned them against the door, she lifted her ass up and I dove deeper into the sweet divide. Her pussy convulsed around my dick as she came, I came shortly after. I ripped the condom off then knotted it and tossed it in the janitor's trash can on his cart.

I slapped a bare ass cheek and she yelped. "Move it."

She sighed contently with one side of her face against the door. I groaned and pulled her away. She quickly adjusted herself while walking through the door behind me.

I stopped short as I heard someone clearing their throat. I panicked, thinking it was one of the loser ass teachers and my eyes widened as I whirled around.

It was sexpot, with a smirk curving her lush mouth. Fuck, she heard us! I was instantly embarrassed for some dumbass reason.

She tossed a bag of what looked like pills into her locker then slammed it shut, still smirking. She turned to me as she tucked something small and yellow in her pocket and said her name was Bella in that throaty voice that, despite the lay, made my dick stir again.

I cleared my throat and pulled my fingers through my unruly hair and muttered my name was Edward like a douche. I didn't even fucking grin; I looked almost as big of a pussy as Newton had, at that moment. Something about this girl was throwing me off my game.

She walked around me, paused and said, "Have a nice day, Edward." That was it? Have a nice fucking day? She didn't even fucking mention the escapade me and Lauren had just had in the goddamn room. That was when I remembered Lauren, who was fucking pissed.

She huffed, "Who the fuck does she think she is?"

I shrugged, grinning. "Apparently Bella."

She narrowed her eyes at me and I walked away, chuckling.

(Bella)

"Here," I whispered, placing the pill on Beau's tray.

He popped it in his mouth and swallowed without water. "Merci."

"Don't mention it," I said, plopping down next to him; scanning the area. A honey blonde guy who looked like a Hollywood heartthrob was watching us from across the cafeteria. He had a peculiar, curious look on his face. I made eye contact with him and my brows furrowed; he quickly focused on his plate.

"That's Jasper," Beau said from the side of me.

I looked at him and raised my eyebrows. "Huh. How do you know him?"

He shrugged, nibbling on a stock of celery. "I was talking to him before you slammed that kid against the wall."

"What do you think about him?" I asked.

Jasper had been looking at us, as if he knew something—something secret. I didn't like it. My senses went on hyper alert; taking in all of my surroundings, looking for any abnormalities. I found none. Of course, I wouldn't, this was a high school for crying out loud. I needed to chill. It was difficult; my body was screaming against not taking action. Protect, protect, protect, my brain was shouting at me.

Beau shrugged again. "Didn't have much time to chat." he smirked at me. I smiled as I remembered slamming the perv into the wall. I taught him a lesson; he was going to think twice before grabbing any more random girls' asses without permission.

His smirk fell. "He's one of Dr. Cullen's three sons."

My smile fell too. This was not good. "Do you think he knows?" I asked, turning to study Jasper, again.

He was watching us again—mainly Beau. He had that knowing look on his face. I was willing to swipe it off if need be. Chill, girl! I ordered to myself. I was beginning to sound like my father, Charlie. That was not a bad thing per se to me, but in a high school it was inappropriate. I was here for Beau, nothing else.

I could see Beau shrug out of the corner of my eye. "Maybe," he said airily. "He didn't mention it if he did. I don't think we have to worry—patient confidentiality and all."

I nodded. "That makes sense. Here's hoping he keeps that pretty mouth of his shut." I titled my head. "I can always make sure he does."

He groaned. "Mon dieu, you sound like dad when you say stuff like that."

I smiled brightly. "Merci."

"It wasn't supposed to be a compliment." He grumbled.

I patted his hand, lovingly. "I know, I know."

(Edward)

I sat in my Creative Writing class, tapping my pen against the desk; bored out of my goddamn mind.

Mrs. Jones was rambling about poems and metaphors. I was distracted by Tanya's low V-neck shirt playing peek-a-boo with a red lacey bra every time she took a breath. Mrs. Jones stopped talking and everyone's attention shifted to the door. I followed suit and my mouth dried. It was Bella.

"Hello." She said in a voice Jessica would envy.

"Ms. Swan, come in, come in." Mrs. Jones said waving Bella in.

Bella sauntered in smiling sweetly at Mrs. Jones. I could see Mrs. Jones was even stunned by her; that innocent smile was hard to resist.

"I was just lecturing on poems Ms. Swan. Speaking of poems, have you done what I requested in the letter I sent you?" Bella nodded, pulling out a slip of paper. My eyes drifted to that perfect plump ass in tight jeans then to her slim frame encased in a leather jacket and hair cascading down her beautifully curved back. Mrs. Jones read through the poem, her eyes widening. "This is…deep Ms. Swan. Do you mind reading it aloud to the class? This has a prefect blend of metaphors."

"Not at all, ma'am," Bella's messenger bag puddled on the ground as she dropped it. She took the paper then turned meeting no one's eyes looking straight down at the paper

"The title is 'Grim'." She cleared her throat then began to recite the poem in a fucking hauntingly, even voice; goose bumps rode up my arm.

"It is easy to retreat, to be numb.

Feeling is hard.

The pain is bottomless, I cannot breathe.

Soaring, burning, twisting.

The door cracks and I cringe, he is here.

I am fearful.

Hello, bottomless love. He hails.

'Why are you here?' I wail.

He grins. For you, love.

'But I am no one.' I scream.

He beams. Exactly.

I fight the fear, he can smell it.

He floats on mist, his fingers deadly sickles.

My skin prickles.

The numbness subsides and feeling burns.

He smiles, exultant from my fear.

Ah, your fear is as sweet as babies' tears, love. He breathes.

'Please, oh, please, have pity.' I gasp.

He is beside me, sickles twirling my mane.

His breath is death, cold.

His eyes are black holes, hollow.

His face is long and sunken, skeletal.

Do you fear me, love? He asks.

'Yes.' I weep.

Superb. He thrills

He has chosen I, week and mundane I.

He is Grim, master of darkness.

The Angel of Death.

He who feeds on fear, pain and hate.

My love, my fountain of milk and honey. Ice chills my cheek.

'Kill me.' I whimper.

No, no, love, your time is not now. Ice nibbles my lips.

'Leave me.' I snivel.

But your pain is so divine, love. Ice freezes my neck.

'Heal me.' I sniffle.

Souls, cannot be healed, love. Ice tingles my hips.

I plunge into the realms of my dark lover's arms.

Close to death, but never reaching.

I pray for death, I try to die.

But he always summons me back.

'Why torment me?' I seep.

For it is heavenly, love. He murmurs.

'I hate you!' I yelp.

Hate is love's counterpart, love. He chuckles.

He loves my hate, my fear.

I am no one, nothing.

A pebble in a billion boulders.

My pain is pure, bottomless.

I shall return morrow night, bottomless love. He promises.

'You shouldn't, wait a few.' I beg

I cannot bear the wait, love. He declares.

He leaves me cold and alone.

I lay in darkness, falling into numbness.

I pray for a savior, I pray for strength.

I am weak and helpless.

Can no one hear me?"

I shook my head, blinking several times. That was the deepest, darkest fucking shit I had ever heard. And coming from a teenage girl was even more fucking stunning. The entire class was quiet—deathly quiet. Bella was still staring at the paper, a tear streamed down her cheek onto the ink.

I began to clap slowly, shortly after, everyone followed suit. She finally looked up and met my eyes. A multitude of emotions were swirling in those chocolate pools. She smiled a small smile and I smiled crookedly back. I noticed her eyes cloud over slightly and grinned knowingly; she was aroused. Yeah, this smug motherfucker still had it.

"What is the meaning of your poem, Ms. Swan? Keep in mind that there can be many." Mrs. Jones said to Bella as she was handing back the paper and grabbing her bag.

Bella sucked her supple bottom lip into her mouth and began chewing on it. "It's about my love-hate relationship with death." She was smiling, her expression joking. Mrs. Jones recoiled, blinking several times.

I seemed to be the only one who noticed that she was obviously fucking joking. Christ, this people were dumbfucks! I might not have exactly understand the meaning of the poem, but I was pretty goddamn sure the girl was not suicidal. From the looks on everyone else's face I knew that was what they were thinking.

Bella smiled sweetly. "Don't worry, ma'am. I'm not suicidal."

Mrs. Jones sputtered. "Well…well, okay. You may take a seat, Ms. Swan."

Mrs. Jones was definitely never going to fucking ask Bella to recite a poem again. Maybe that was why Bella did it. From the smirk on her face as she walked to her desk, I betted that was it.

(Bella)

That poem was sinister and I knew it.

Death was not my biggest fear, but it is up there—no doubt about it. It was difficult for me to deal sometimes with it. I was constantly around it. Beau was practically staring it straight in the face. He was so brave most people would not realize how scared he really was, but I knew.

I wished, for the umpteenth time, it was me with cancer. Beau was going places. He would change the world in some great way; bettering and helping people along his way. I was a destroyer. Literally. I was training to become a hitman, like my father—my performance in the cafeteria prior being an inadvertent indication.

Beau was too softhearted for that, like my mother Renee, but he accepted what we were. Renee could not; she left Charlie when I was a child, it broke his heart. I was not surprised by her leaving. I was surprised by Beau's staying. I expected him to go with her. I imagined he felt someone had to watch over me and our father. We tended to overlook many basic things, like eating and sleeping.

We would see Renee occasionally before she died in a car accident five years ago. I never spent much quality time with Renee, so I could not exactly say I missed her, but it did make me sad to know she was not breathing and smiling on this earth anymore.

I had problems coping with emotions.

It was easier to suppress them and keep trudging along. Beau was the one who faced his demons and conquered them. I was the cold-hearted, killing machine and Beau was the brave, beautiful soul. I was proud to be his one and only sister. I liked to think that that fact made me a somewhat better person.

I registered the curious looks and downright freaked out stares I was receiving, but I ignored them. If they could not understand my poem then I was not going to explain it. It was complicated. It was not black and white. The emotions I felt during the time span I was writing 'Grim' could not be placed in a neat little box and labeled. I said the love-hate relationship thing because I thought it might have been funny. It only made me sound like some sort of suicidal attention whore and I regretted it right when the words left my mouth.

There was one boy with dark mop top hair and bad skin who was staring at me curiously. He looked like an emo kid, with elastic looking skinny jeans and a shirt with a pointless contradicting phrase on it. He probably thought he knew the meaning of my poem, but I doubted he truly did. I was not even sure I knew the meaning anymore. It just popped into my head one day when I was waiting at a stop light a year back and I later wrote it when I got home then began to elaborate. My one small idea about the grim reaper blew up into that dismal poem about an odium love affair with death. I had a twisted little mind. Not deep or intellectual, just twisted. Even when I was trying to be intellectual it would come out twisted and dark. I was in a dark rut.

My pocket vibrated and I jumped a little. I dug in my pocket after surveying the area to see if anyone noticed or was being too nosy. No one was, I flipped my go phone—go phones could not be tracked as easily as contracted phones—open; wondering if it was Beau and if he was in trouble.

It was my father and it was a text message; he was a terrible texter. The FBI probably could not decipher it if they tried; I had a difficult time doing it. He did not do it on purpose, even though he liked to think so. I did not say anything about it.

"I nedd u 2 ho 2 de doc wit B," was his message, which I guessed was supposed to be: I need you to go to the doctor with Beau.

My eyebrows pulled together. Why couldn't he come? I did not mind going⎯I was likely to go anyway. But, I was worried about why Charlie could not make it to the first appointment with Dr. Cullen. Beau had had other chemo treatments but this was going to be his first with the guru doctor and I wanted us all to be there.

I had to know so I texted him back, "Where will u b?"

It took a few minutes before my phone vibrated again; he was a slow texter. I was proud he could even do it. I flipped open the phone—registering my surroundings at the same time, no one was watching too intently—and read, "Tdaring don sum shedtrock." Charlie had trouble with his e's and d's getting mixing up.

In the world of hitman you normally took a job as a cover and used operational terms as codes. Tearing down sheetrock, which was what Charlie had texted, meant eradicating a target. My father's cover was a house constructer.

I sighed, texting him back, "K c u lata."

I did not expect another message and was surprised to feel my phone vibrate again. I quickly flipped it open, thinking that it might have been Beau this time.

It was Charlie again, "K luv u Bells."

I smiled widely, nearly laughing. "I luv u 2 dad," I sent back; shaking my head slowly.

I was flipping the phone shut and tucking it in my pocket, when I saw Edward watching me, too intently for comfort, out of the corner of my eye. I made eye contact with him, brow furrowing. I expected him to quickly look away and was stunned when he did not and actually raise one brow at me as if I had done something wrong; I slitted my eyes. What was his game? He was an odd one. I was apprehensive about meeting Dr. Cullen, if his sons were this peculiar. I definitely needed to check this doctor out before he went anywhere near my brother.

Edward's green eyes were piercing and startling in their intense scrutiny. His lips curled in a blood racing crooked smile. My heart did not even race when I was facing a fully loaded gun, yet this boy exuding sex appeal was making it thump erratically against my chest. The feeling unsettled me, which was aggravating. My eyebrows twisted together, and his grin widened. I had the urge to punch him in his smug, gorgeous face—the crunching sound would have been very satisfying; I smiled thinking about it. He cocked an eyebrow again. I shook my head looking away as the bell rang.

I snatched my stuff then slipped out the room like a whisper.


I hated hospitals.

The smell was entirely to bleachy and clean. I could smell the death. It was clinging to me. We had been waiting for an hour, fifteen minutes, and forty five seconds—Yes, I counted. What was taking this doctor so long? I was an impatient soul—one of my many vices.

I was anxious.

I believed they were running test then giving Beau another round of chemo. He was weakest after the chemo; never able to hold anything down, his body violently convulsing and shivering in a cold sweat. I held and rock him as if her were a child on those nights and I intended to do it again if he needed. I needed to physically do something, for I would otherwise be of no help at all. After all, I was not the doctor and surely could not cure him or magically make the cancer disappear.

"Uh, Bells. Could you lighten your grip a bit?" Beau asked quietly at my side.

I anxiously looked down at our entwined hands; I was gripping his hand so tightly his skin under my hands was slightly bruising—the chemo caused him to bruise easily. I loosened my grip and rubbed his hand with my free one as if that would make the bruises go away. "Oh dieu, I'm so sorry, Beau. You should've said something earlier."

"Don't sweat it, Bells. It's not that big of a deal." He said smiling lightly; I could see the apprehension in his eyes that I was feeling.

"So…where's dad?" Beau asked after a few minutes, attempting to change the subject.

I raised my eyebrows. "You sure you wanna know?"

He normally did not, but with the goings-on as of late he did not mind talking about this things to distract himself. I did not blame him; I had been distracting myself with more training than necessary. Things like walking stealthy, surveying all my surroundings in passing and reacting to any sudden danger in a fraction of a heartbeat were becoming second nature to me. It was becoming obvious I was not a normal teenage girl, and that was dangerous.

He shrugged. "I guess I already know then, don't I?"

Beau was not stupid, and I knew that, but I hated talking to him about it. I felt as if I was corrupting his pure soul. Beau was not meant for a hitman's life. I could visualize him being a doctor—he had the demeanor and smarts to be an excellent one; one of the best. The quiet clicking of the door had my head snapping in its direction, my eyes widened.

A golden man in a white coat strolled in. He was breathtakingly handsome in a reserved way, with an intensity underneath that reared up my protective side; he was dangerous. The honey blonde named Jasper resembled him greatly. I deduced Edward looked like his mother, for he looked very little like the doctor.

"Hello, Beau." Dr. Cullen, I presumed, said, smiling lightly at my brother. His eyes were not shifty and he face was placid, nevertheless I did not fully trust this man. If this was Dr. Cullen, then I knew he was the Underboss in the Association, in other words a Second in Command for the Mafia. My father and I did most of our hits for them. I believed Beau did not know this, for he would not be here. Then again, maybe he would, I could not be sure. I knew for sure that I would have dragged him here if he had chosen not to because of this doctor's true underhanded identity. I did not care who this man was as long as he could cure my brother, and God help him if he messed up. I would kill him in a millisecond if he did something foolish and killed my brother in the process, not caring about the consequences. My life would already be nothing without Beau in it.

"Hello, Dr. Cullen. This is my sister, Bella." Beau said, gently rubbing my hand that had stilled.

Crystal blue eyes fell upon mine and he smiled. "Hello, Bella. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Beau has said nothing but high things about you when we spoke on the phone and the few times I'd traveled to Phoenix."

My eyes widen, and I quickly looked at Beau. He smiled sheepishly, as if he needed to feel sorry for something. My chest swelled at the thought of him saying high things about me.

I cleared my throat, smiling warmly at Beau before looking back at the golden doctor. "Thank you, Dr. Cullen. It's my pleasure as well. Beau has nothing but high remarks to say about you as well."

Dr. Cullen smiled while lowering himself onto the swivel stool. He crossed his leg, propping his foot on his knee; his legs resembled a sort of odd four. Dr. Cullen skimmed through Beau's chart. "You're test result are clear, Beau, so we will proceed with the chemo today." Beau squeezed my hand, I returned the pressure.

The chemo was a major part of the curing processes, but at times I knew Beau wished the test results said he could not precede. The chemo was like being conveyed through an acid carwash with razor blade brushes; it might get you cleaned but it was terrifying.

Beau gulped, and then nodded woodenly. He was so brave; my chest swelled for the love and admiration I felt for him. I wished I could go in the room with him. More so, I wished it was me going through this.

As if he was reading my mind, Dr. Cullen said, "Bella, why don't you go get something to eat or drink in the vending area, walk around a bit. I'll send someone to get you once we're finished."

I anxiously looked at Beau for confirmation that he did not want me closer for the sake of comfort. He smiled, assuredly. "Good ahead, soeur. I know how you get antsy doing nothing."

I briefly looked at Dr. Cullen then back at Beau; there were dark bruise like circles under his chocolate eyes. I cupped his cheek, lightly rubbing the dark circles with my thumb. "I wish it was me." I blurted.

He looked as shocked as I felt. I had not meant to say that out loud; I did not want to upset him by showing my pain. He shook his head with a confused expression. "What did you just say?" I registered Dr. Cullen's sympathetic face out of the corner of my eye.

I sighed. "I said, I wish it was me with cancer. You shouldn't have this. You're too good. I'm not⎯not as good as you, anyways. I hate seeing this happen to you and not being able to fix it. It makes me hate whoever's up there—if there is anyone." My body was shaking and tears were pooling in my eyes.

Beau looked furious. "Don't you ever say that again, comprendre?" He said sharply, my eyes widen. Beau never spoke to me in that manner; he must have been very upset. I hated myself for being the cause of that. "This would be a thousand times worse if it was you with cancer. I'd probably crack. I would not be able to help you the way you are helping me. Your strong, Bella—stronger than anyone I know—strong enough to push through this and stay tough for me and be my rock. And I know there is someone up there, and He is looking down on me because He sent me you."

I wanted to cry then, but I held the tears at bay. If I did not I would crack and it would falsify Beau's perfect speech. I nodded, pecking his forehead then fleetingly smiling at Dr. Cullen. I slowly walked to the door then slipped out; closing the door quietly. I bolted to the exit, needing air. I was going to cry, I knew it. I hated crying—crying was weak. My tear ducts seemed to be hardwired to my emotions however, which was irritating.

When I made it to the small private garden, I let the tears fall. I cried for my brother, for his sickness, for his pain and fear, for every person who suffered through cancer and the families whom lost their loved ones from it. This whole situation was frustrating, I wanted someone or something to blame. But they, meaning doctors, said it was chancy. People who have never smoked or drank a day in their lives come up with cancer. It was the chemicals the government kept pumping in the air, they speculated, or some other nonsense. Michael Moore should do a documentary on it; Sicko had opened my blind eyes. That was a random thought—I got those from time to time.

It was sad that the only people my brother had for a support system were two hitman with emotion sharing issues. Beau was so poetic with his words; my written poetry could not light a candle to his normal, everyday dialogue. I was pacing in the tiny garden when a clearing of a throat froze me. I whirled around, facing a familiar figure. I groaned, quickly wiping my tears away. It was Edward.

"Hello." He said, moseying on toward me. I did not want him around me in this state. It was one thing to cry, it was a completely different thing to have someone witness it.

"Hello." I mumbled, plopping down on the cement bench, plucking a rose petal from a bush and twirling it in between my thumb and index finger.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?" He had a colorful tongue on him, that was for sure, I smiled inwardly.

I shrugged, focusing on the intricate veins within the crimson membrane. "You know, STD's are a bitch."

It was awkwardly quiet for a moment then he chuckled. Good, he had a sense of humor. People who took everything so seriously aggravated me, and I normally ignored them. Life was serious and cruel enough, people needed to lighten up. I had a dark, twisted side, but I also had a light, opened side as well. When it was a appropriate, I joked about things. My brother's cancer and facing death was not funny. STD's were funny in certain circumstances, but my brother did not ask for cancer. See, big difference—then again, maybe not. Maybe I am callus and insensitive bitch, luckily for me no one will know about it. My thoughts are my own.

Edward strolled around the little fountain; his demeanor calm, the complete opposite of what I was feeling.

"I know." He finally blurted; my brow furrowed. I was hoping he was talking about STD's being a bitch.

"You know what, exactly?" I asked, letting the petal drop from my hand. I could have really used a cigarette right then, but I had kicked the vice after Beau was diagnosed with lung cancer. He never said anything about it, I just felt guilty that I was the smoker and he was the one who got cancer.

He shrugged. "About your brother."

My head snapped in his direction. "What about him?" I asked, feigning oblivion.

He sauntered over to me then lowered himself on the bench, raking his fingers through his hair. My body was too erect for a normal teenager, I tried to relax my stance; it was difficult fighting against my natural body instincts.

"The cancer shit." He finally said after a moment. "That's not fucking fair, I mean, he's so goddamn young."

I forced my outer expression to be calm when my insides where screaming to find Jasper and throttle him. I knew it was him, that nosy little heartthrob! "Thanks, I appreciate the sentiment and I'm sure Beau does as well. But we'd appreciate it more if you and the rest of your family wouldn't say anything about it."

He shook his head; blinking rapidly and messing with his hair again. "Of course we wouldn't say shit about it. What the fuck made you think we would?"

I rolled my eyes at his perplexed expression. He was good-looking and distracting with his appeal, but I was not stupid. The innocent, naïve casing was exactly that—casing. "Obviously if you know about it either your father or one of your brothers told you. I'm willing to guess the later. I'm also willing to guess the culprit is a certain honey blonde one that looks identical to your father."

I realized I was contradicting my earlier thought of taking things too seriously, but as I said before, my brother's cancer was not a laughing matter and one of the few things I took seriously. If Beau did not want people knowing about it then I was going to make sure that happened.

His eyes widen. "Well, damn. Yeah, Jasper did fucking tell me. But I assumed your brother had told him since they had just fucking spoken before Jasper told me." He shrugged. "It's possible my father let it slip in passing. We won't say shit about shit, though. We know how to keep secrets." He winked.

I smiled involuntarily, and sighed after a second. "Sorry if I was…snappy," I rubbed my face roughly with both hands. "I'm so fucking stressed it's ridiculous. You wouldn't happen to smoke, would you?"

He grinned mischievously. "Not cigarettes."

I contemplated that for a second. "You wouldn't happen to have that on you?"

Ganja relaxed me after field work. I was beginning to take small jobs. I tried not to think about the faces of the people I killed, and it was fruitless because of the photographic memory—definitely not something helpful in my line of work.

He grinned again, my breath hitched. "No. I'm not that fucking stupid. You can meet me somewhere, though." His cocked a brow, obviously waiting for an answer.

I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth, digging my teeth into the pliable flesh; debating with myself if I should do this. After a moment I made my decision. "It might be late. I don't know how much you know about chemo—"

"I know about chemo." He interrupted me quickly. "It doesn't matter what fucking time. Here, give me your phone." He said, extending a hand, palm up. I dug my phone of my pocket then handed it to him. He programmed his number then handed it back. "Call me when you can meet me and I'll tell you where." I nodded, brain screaming for the stuff now that I was thinking about it.

Edward nodded, gazed at me for a moment, then walked away.

(Edward)

Bella was an enigma, that was for fucking sure.

She was not like the normal bitches that went to Forks High. I had watched her pacing in the garden, crying and looking fucking pissed about crying; her face scrunched up with what looked like worry. For a moment she looked fragile, innocent and vulnerable, and in that moment I had the urge to comfort her. I pushed that shit back; I did not give two shits about anyone but myself. That was me, Edward Anthony Cullen, selfish womanizer. I liked it that way, people did not except anything better.

I kicked the vending machine. The motherfucker was prehistoric and didn't work worth a shit. I was waiting on Carlisle to hurry the fuck up so we could go to the shooting range and I was becoming impatient.

The coke popped down the chute when I heard a familiar throaty voice say, "Lean on me Beau…Just do it for Christ's sake, stubborn casse-couilles!" I wished I knew what that word meant, I knew it was a French curse word but not the meaning. I whipped around and saw Bella throwing a pale faced Beau's arm over her shoulders, she looked irritated. I guessed it was because of her brother's stubbornness.

Beau's lips moved, he was saying something so low I could not make it out. I sure as hell heard Bella respond. "Throw up on me, I don't care—it's better than you falling on your face, mai la!" My eyes widen. Christ, she really loved her brother if she would let him throw up on her. I loved my brothers, but I doubted I would let them do that nasty shit.

Beau sighed, and moved his lips inaudibly again. Bella groaned, rolling her eyes. "You don't deserve me? Of course you don't, you deserve better than me! I don't know what the fuck I'm doing most of the time. I don't deal well with emotional shit and you know that. I'm trying my best for you. You deserve better than this God awful shit. When I die, and if there is a Creator, I'm going to kick His fucking ass, I swear!" I counted five curse words and that made my dick stir again; nasty words coming out of her sweet mouth was damn sexy.

Beau laughed lightly, and Bella smiled; it seemed involuntary, almost as if she didn't even realize what the fuck she was doing. Her statement didn't seem to faze Beau; I deduced this behavior was normal for Bella. She sure was fucking feisty for being so damn tiny.

Beau's lips moved again, and Bella smiled lightly and pecked his check. "I love you too, frère. You're my beautiful soul; you make me feel like I might actually be worth something. Now, let's get you home." She lowered her voice so no one could make them out, but I was close enough to hear. They had not even noticed me and it was really starting to aggravate me. They didn't notice anyone when they were together. "I'll do anything I can to make you comfortable. I know it's not much, but it's all I can offer. I wish I could endure this pain and turmoil for you; I would in a heartbeat, if I had the choice. I'll hold and rock you all night if that's what it takes, you can squeeze my hand until it turns blue and falls off. I'll do anything, just tell me what." Her voice was gritty with desperation.

Beau looked up into her eyes full of unconditional love and said clearly and loud enough for me to hear. "Just stay with me tonight—be with me. That's all I need. We're survivors. At least, I'd like to believe I'm as strong as you and dad, but your strength is enough for me."

She rubbed his shoulder she was holding. "You bet your ass we're survivors. And you're stronger than me and dad put together. I'll stay with you all night if that's what you need. I'll give you all the strength I have, but you overestimate me Beau—I'm not as strong as you give me credit for."

I found myself irrationally fucking pissed that she wasn't going to meet me for the weed, but I also respected that she was willing to do anything for her brother—I could see her body shaking and the nervousness in her eyes; she needed some fucking weed. She looked lost and scared, but pushed it back, grinning and fucking bearing it for her brother. That was true unconditional love, and it was fucking stunning.

She lugged him to the exit; whispering comforting words to him along the way. She had not complained once about the inconvenience this was for her like most people would. She was a selfless creature, and that was fucking amazing. Most teenagers would not even have fucking come here in the first place and if they did, they would be fucking having a hissy fit about it.

"They're comradeship is extraordinary." I jumped when my father's voice sounded behind me and whirled around to face him, I cocked an eyebrow at him. He was looking over my shoulder; I followed his gaze and saw Bella heaving Beau into the truck. She walked around the truck shaking out her hands and breathing deeply through her mouth, then slipped into the Chevy and roared out of the parking lot. I faced Carlisle; he had a thoughtful look on his face as he continued. "It's something the Association respects. Plus, the Swan's can be intimidating and no one dares to cross them. And to them, harming a family member—intentional or not—is worse than shooting them in the back. I've heard many things about Bella, but I never knew the extent of how remarkably strong she is in heart as well as the physical aspect."

My brow furrowed. "The Swan's are part of the Association?" This information fucking shocked the hell of me. Deep down I knew there was something off about them but I never fucking guessed that shit.

Carlisle glanced around the hospital then laid a hand on my shoulder. "Come to my office with me, son, we can speak there." I nodded then followed him to the office.

He lowered himself onto his high back, leather chair behind the mahogany desk of his office when we entered it and I sat in the chair across from his. He clasped his hands together then placed them on the desk, I waited impatiently. What the fuck was going on? I knew my father was treating Beau for free and I knew it was not out of the kindness of his damn heart.

Carlisle began to tap a thumb against his clasped hands. "The Swan's are not part of the Association, they do jobs for us yes, but they never took the vow of brotherhood. I suppose is the best explanation is that they freelance. Charlie is one of the best due to his cleanliness and precision. Bella is training and is proving to be as skillful as her father, if not better. Beau is too softhearted for it, Bella and Charlie try to shelter him from it, but he's smart and picks up on things quickly. He speaks and holds Bella highly for her strength and loyalty."

I had a good fucking idea what the Swan's were but I had to make sure. "Are you implying that the Swan's are fucking hitmen?"

Carlisle smiled lightly. "Yes, I am. You were always quick to pick up on things and I'm sure you knew deep down something was different about them before I even said anything."

(Bella)

I needed weed desperately—a huge blunt. I did not care about the flavor or name as long as it was pure and mellowed me out.

It was midnight, and Beau was sleeping on the couch; his face relaxed from tension. He looked so defenseless, and I imagined the cancer cells eating away at his lungs—killing him—which reared up my protective side again. I wished I could somehow kill those cells with my own hands. It was a stupid thought, and I knew it, but I could not help it. He had been in so much pain and had been spewing his guts out all night, finally falling to sleep an hour ago. I, for once, felt helpless, unable to do anything. I felt inept, and it was vexing. I did not like failing—failing was another weakness.

I eyed my phone on the coffee table and contemplated calling Edward. Maybe he would meet me here. Charlie was not here because he was gambling with some of the Association after his hit and would not come home until tomorrow, and if he was here he would not care if I burned one—he would probably join me, come to think of it. Edward coming here would be ideal, as I was not going to leave Beau. He asked me to stay and I was going to; it was the one thing he asked and I was not going to fail him.

I sighed after a pacing around the living room and pausing to check on Beau before I made my decision. I walked quietly to the coffee table then pick up my phone, flipping it open and scrolling through the contact list until I landed on Edward's. I tip-toed out of the room, walking through the hall, into the kitchen; I pressed the green talk button, then brought the phone to my ear, contemplating hanging up for I did not know if he was sleeping and I knew how irritating being woken up was.

After four rings I was about to hang up, resolved on him not picking up when a groggy, irritated voice spoke. "What?" He sounded incoherent, probably still lingering in dreamland. I mentally kicked myself for waking him up. I must have waited too long to respond for his voice was sharp as he practically shouted. "Dammit, fucking answer asshole!"

That kicked up my snappy side. "Je t'emmerde, trouduc!" I tended to forget my native language when I was upset.

The other line was silent for a moment before he answered back with his normal voice, sounding stunned, "Bella?"

I sighed, exasperatedly; my hands slightly shaking. I was feigning for something to settle my nerves down, if only for a moment. "Yes, it's me. I know it's late, and I'm sorry about that, but you said I could call anytime so I did." I paused for a moment, listening. He said nothing, I continued. "I can't go anywhere—I'm staying with my brother. But I need something to calm my nerves badly. I'll pay you extra, if you wouldn't mind coming here instead of meeting somewhere. And if you do just say so, you do not owe me anything. I also do not want this held over my head, as I hate owing people favors—especially if I don't know the person at all." I realized I was rambling and shut up.

He yawned loudly; I pulled the phone away from my ear, wincing. "Hmm. Yeah, it's not a big fucking deal. I'll meet you there, what's the address." I sighed in relief and gave him the address, then hung up.

I returned to the living room, crouching down in front of my brother sprawled out on the couch. I felt his forehead with my lips; his skin was boiling hot and clammy. I grabbed the cool damp towel on the coffee table and placed it on his forehead; wiping away the sweat and cooling his flesh. I balanced it there after and removed my hand letting the towel stay; trying to make the fever break.

I paced around the room after about ten minutes of waiting; picking up and straighten things. I had done all the chores already; trying to calm myself but I had finished in an hour and it did not help.

I was wondering how long the drive might take for him, if he was a fast driver; at that moment I hoped he was—his father could afford a speeding ticket—when two knocks sounded from the door. I rushed to the door and swung it open, stupidly not checking the security monitor. I should have known better. What if someone out for blood or worse the cops were at the door?

It was who I hoped it was, Edward; his hair in more disarray then it was before and his eyes heavily lidded. I was going to have to tip him big time. I stared at him silently for a moment; gulping through a dry throat. His was still gorgeous just rolling out of bed. I might never be with him, I would not even entertain that fact, but I could at least appreciate his assets.

He cocked a brow at me, irritated. "Are you going to fucking let me in are not? I'm freezing my balls off."

I blinked then nodded, stepping out of his way, indicating with a hand to come in. He stepped in, taking in the modern décor. We paid a designer to have a field day with it. I did not care what it looked like—we never stayed long enough anywhere to get attached to any house. We needed the décor for appearance sake. "Nice." He said, raking fingers through his hair and tugging the knots.

"Uh-huh." I said fleetingly. "Wait here a sec."

He nodded and I walked into the kitchen, opened the freezer and grabbed a tub of ice cream. I set the tub on the counter, opening the lid and pulling out a wad of cash—all hundreds. I plucked out five of them, figuring that was enough; if not I would get more. I sauntered back to the hall and found Edward standing in the same spot. I instantly felt guilty for not asking him to sit in the living room.

I noticed his eyes leisurely raking my body as I walked to him, and was instantly aroused when I saw the fire in his eyes. He was attracted to me and I knew it, and God help me if that did not make my blood race. I stopped a few spaces away from him and raised my eyebrows, silently waiting for I had not seen a bag of weed as of yet.

He just gazed at me, standing there; he licked his lips and my eyes involuntarily followed the movement. He smirked when he saw that and my brow furrowed. I was fighting back the urge to punch him again. The smug prick deserved a good pummel.

He stepped leisurely toward me, closing in the gap between us. His eyes lowered to my breast; his eyes dilating with desire. I followed his gaze and nearly dropped the money when I realized I was practically wearing nothing. I had on a thin white tank top that my black bra showed through and small black stretchy shorts that was so high my butt cheeks peeked through the bottoms. I groaned, feeling foolish. I had been so on edge I had not registered what I was wearing; it was inappropriate and I felt slutty.

I thrusted the money in his hands and dashed to the living room, snatching a blanket off the overstuffed, oversized tan chair and wrapped it around myself. I might be aroused by his attraction to me, but this was different. I felt naked and defenseless to his scrutiny, and I did not like it. He moseyed in after me, taking in the high ceiling with rows of hug wooden beams across it and the seventy inch flat screen, plasma against the wall. "Nice."

"Uh-huh." I said, sucking my lip into my mouth and gnawing on it. "So do you have it?" I asked in a hushed tone, I was ashamed and did not want Beau to hear about it—even in his sleep.

"Yeah," He said, pulling out a bag with buds in it and shaking it slightly.

My mouth watered and my eyes dilated with desire, I turned toward my room and waved at him to follow me. I entered my room; slightly apprehensive about him being in it, but pushed it back. He walked in after; he stood taking in my huge room with peacock green walls and mahogany furniture. He looked up at the ceiling and his eyes widen when his saw my forty inch flat screen, plasma over my bed. His head snapped back to me and cocked a brow, expectantly.

I shrugged. "I have trouble sleeping at night and I like to lie down while watching TV."

"What do you normally watch?" He inquired, walking to my bed and lowering himself onto. I was irked by that, but kept my cool; he was still holding my weed and money. I had stupidly given him the money before obtaining the drug. I was eyeing it; resolved in my decision to punish him if he tried anything funny, like leaving without giving me the sweet buds.

I shrugged, walking to my Bose stereo and punching it on. "Crazy" by Ray Lamontagne filtered through the speakers, sounding through the room. "I watch different things. But mostly Discovery Channel or Animal Planet—Charlie and I get caught up in it. Animalistic natural is enthralling, amazing how resourceful and instinctive creatures can be. They make humans look vacuous. Like how they can sense bad weather—" I realized I was yet again rambling and sucked my bottom lip back in my mouth, chewing it.

He chuckled; I turned around and saw him rolling a joint. "You don't have to do that. I can do it myself." I said.

He shrugged. "It's not a big fucking deal."

I shrugged; at that point I did not care how it happened as long as I was able to inhale it.

He rolled it expertly; tight and well packed. I licked my lips and walked to the bed, sitting next to him. He handed it to me and I took it and lit it, inhaling the smoke and holding it in. It burned slightly, but it was worth it. After a moment I exhaled contently; almost purring. I was already feeling the effects; this stuff was grade A and I was grateful beyond belief.

He grinned crookedly and my panties dampened instantly. It had to be the bud relaxing me and kicking up my arousal. "It's good shit, huh?"

I nodded; closing my eyes as I took another hit, holding it as long as I could before exhaling. I coughed a little after that one from the tingling burn in my throat. I offered him a hit and he took it; inhaling and holding then exhaling. "Is that enough?" I asked, inclining my chin to the money in his hand.

He looked down, seeming to just realize how much I had given him for his eyes widen and his head snapped up to me. "Enough? Damn that's fucking outrageous. Where the hell did that come from?" I shrugged, taking another hit; not answering him. "Well, either way, I'm not taking that damn much for a fucking roach."

"How about the whole bag and coming even though you were sleeping?" I asked.

He contemplated that for a moment, taking another hit, and then grinned. "I suppose that's fucking fair."

I took another hit, sighing after exhaling. "You have no idea how much this is helping. I should give you more than that for the inconvenience I've put you through."

He shrugged, taking another hit. After he exhaled he said, "Like I said, it's not a big fucking deal. I said whatever fucking time."

"Fine by me." I said, between another hit.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "So, are we going to pretend that I don't know you're a hitman and that you don't work the Association?"

My head snapped in his direction; I sucked my lip between my teeth and groaned. "Baise-moi, Dr. Cullen really doesn't know who to keep his mouth shut for his own good, does he?"

He shrugged. "We're family. We have no damn secrets, it's an actual fucking rule. What does that mean by the way?"

"What, 'baise-moi' mean?" I asked raising my brows quizzically, he nodded. "It means, fuck me." He chuckled and I laughed for a moment. "And as for the other thing you said, everyone has secrets. You're delusional if you think he tells you everything." I grumbled, unfairly taking my frustration out on him.

He stiffened, grinding his teeth; my words had undoubtedly hit a nerve. "I never said he tells me everything, just the important things."

"Uh-huh." I mumbled; slightly condescendingly. That irritated him tenfold.

"What the fuck do you know about it?" he snapped. "You don't know me or my family, so keep you damn opinions to yourself."

I nearly choked on the smoke I was inhaling from laughing, I could not help it; the drug had loosened me up greatly. "Whatever you say—calm down. I didn't mean anything by it."

He silently fumed for a moment, dragging fiercely from the roach. I dropped down on the bed, flicking on the TV; Discovery Chanel instantly occupied the screen. Planet Earth, Caves was on. I adjusted myself to see the screen from the right angle. I registered Edward's hard face as he cut me livid green eyes from my peripheral vision, before he stubbed out the roach on one of the decorative wooden bowls the designer had put there and laying down next to me.

I had had my ears on hyper alert for any sounds from the living room the entire time. Yes, I could do that, amazing isn't it? That was a natural talent, like the photographic memory. I could vividly hear the screams echo from my targets lungs—also, not a good talent to have for my line of work.

Did I mention the weed was phenomenal?

(Edward)

I had never met a more fucking infuriating, bitchy, sexy girl in my life.

Bella knew how to speak her mind and she knew the world. She wasn't like the rest of the bitches at school. Besides the obvious hitman bit, she struggled and was strong. God, I sounded like a pussy. I mentally slapped the shit out of myself.

My eyes lowered to her legs; one was bent knee up and the other was crossed over it, bobbing slightly. My vision zeroed in on the movement, that sexy milky white flesh. I wanted to touch it, taste it, and trail kisses up those sweet motherfuckers until I reached her clit. My dick instantly hardened at the thought. I suppressed a groan that seemed to come straight from my dick. That fucker had a mind of his own.

She briefly glanced at me, obviously hearing my groan. Her eyes were distracted and glossed over. Oh, yeah, the weed was definitely clouding her fucking senses. She was a mellow stoner, must bitches were chatty. She licked her top lip, my eyes followed the movement. Her hand dropped from her stomach onto the bed, releasing the remote; it tumbled onto the comforter. My eyes crawled over her stomach, taking in the slight curve of her hip bones and that sexy little belly button. My hands were burning to touch her, feel her.

I lifted my eyes up to hers and saw a fire of desire that was so fucking clear I didn't even think when I slid closer to her. I felt the heat radiating from her body, it was fucking calling my damn name. She must have moved too, because our bodies were closer; almost touching. Every-fucking-thing seemed to being moving in slow motion, it must have been the weed. Carlisle must have gotten a new supplier.

A sound slipped through her lips, it was either a sigh or a moan. Either one, my hand was brushing up her arm on its own damn accord and blood was pumping straight to my groin. Her finger traced my eyebrow, the lightest touch sending zings of electricity through my veins. I braided my fingers through her silky hair and I gazed into her eyes; cocking a brow. I never forced myself on a girl. She smiled lazily, encouragingly cupping my cheek and tugging softly forward. I crushed her lips with mine, groaning in her mouth. She moaned softly, parting her lips and tracing my bottom lip with her delicious tongue. That did it for me, I rolled her on her back, hovering over her; between her warm thighs.

She hooked a foot around my calf and rubbed it slowly; twining fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck. Our tongues danced, tasting and feeling. God, she felt so fucking good and her taste was mind-blowing. Natural. Unique. Addictive. She broke from my mouth after a moment, gasping for air. I wasn't nearly done tasting her, I kissed down her jaw line to her neck; nibbling and licking the sensitive pulse point. She moaned, arching her body against mine. I grinned against her skin, I had found a sweet spot. My erection hit her clit, she gasped again and dug her fingers softly into my scalp; tugging the hairs gently. My breath caught, I nearly lost my fucking mind it was so damn arousing.

Our lips met again, molding and moving together. My hands roamed over that smooth stomach I had been waiting for. It was softer than I had anticipated, I slid my hands under her tank top and she shivered. My hands crept under the thin tank until they found her black bra that had now been burned into my goddamn brain. I shivered, my dick quivering. I wanted her so damn bad it was becoming almost painful. I cupped her breast under the bra, pinching the bud of her nipple gently, she moaned and arched against my body again. I pushed my hips forward reflexively and she gasped away from my mouth.

I stopped, fearing either she'd finally come to her damn senses or I had hurt her; with her I guessed it was the former, it was comical to think of anyone hurting Isabelle Swan. "Oh, dieu, don't stop!" she rasped. Electricity zinged through my body as I pushed my hips forward again and her hips bucked in unison.

"Bella?" a croaking, pained voiced flittered through the door, haze of drugs and mind-fucking lust.

Bella froze and I forced myself not to move a goddamn inch; my dick was bitching me out the entire time. "Beau?" she called; closing her eyes tightly.

A groan sounded, followed by what sounded like dry heaving. "Merde," she pushed me away from her and I tumbled off her, nearly losing my balance and falling off the fucking bed.

"Hey! What the fuck?" I was unjustly pissed. I had forgotten about her brother.

She grabbed the money and threw it in my fucking face, I scrambled to catch it all; still a little out of my mind. "You need to go, now!"

"What? Why? Can't you just go check on him then come back?" I asked, a tad imploring. It was too fucking late to find another booty call...well, that wasn't true. Any bitch would come running with one call. But dammit I wanted her. Not a fucking second-rate substitute.

She shot me a withering glare. "No. Mai la! What is wrong with you? I shouldn't have even done this. It was wrong." she shoved me forward, toward the door. "Thank you for the weed—it was fantastic. Really. And, also, for whatever that was." she waved distractedly to the crumpled bed. "But don't expect to come back or for it to happen again. You're far to distracting, and I can't afford distractions right now. Good bye, Edward. You know where the front door is." Then she was gone, disappearing through the hall to the living room.

My dick was twitching, screaming for me to go after her. I nearly did, but thought fucking better of it. Edward Cullen did not beg or chase.

I grumbled to myself, resigned in finding another fuck. I flipped my phone open, scrolling through my contact until I landed on Jessica.

I paused at the front door, hearing hushed voices; one pained and croaky, the other guilty and throaty. I hit the green button, she picked up on the first goddamn ring.

"Hey, Edward!" her shrill voice made me wince, my ears instinctively warding it off.

"I'm coming pick you up. Meet me at the curve." I clicked the phone shut then after hearing a soft, throaty voice say, "Beau, I'm so sorry...Who's here? No one important...Come here, frère...That's it rest. I'll sing—"

I slammed the door, rougher than necessary, and stumped to my Volvo.

(Bella)

I loathed myself.

I was a terrible sister, no scratch that, I was a terrible human being. Making out like a slutty teenager, locked up in my room with a stranger while my brother was suffering in the living room; calling my name for God knows how long. I apologized about a thousand times before I even knelt down next to him.

"Shh," I soothed my whizzing, shaking brother; caressing the stubble on his head. "Hush, my frère—my beautiful soul. I'm here."

I hadn't heard the front door close yet, I wondered what Edward was doing. He needed to leave before I forced him, it would undoubtably get ugly if I had to. I apologized for the millionth time to Beau.

Beau shook his head weakly. "Who's here?" he asked ultrasonically, I barely caught it.

"Who's here?" I repeated, he half nodded; his eyes shut tightly. I hated lying to him, but I was too ashamed of myself to confess. "No one important." He winced, gasping in pain. "Come here, frère," I said, reaching for him and wrapping my arms around his quaking shoulders. He rested his head on my shoulder, some of the tension leaving his body. "That's it rest." I said, soothingly rubbing his back. "I'll sing—"

We both jumped from the slamming of a door sounding through the house like a nuclear bomb. My brother groaned, breathing shallowly. Anguished pain twisted his face; pale skin stretching over sharp bone till I feared it would ripe. Fury shot through my veins—Edward was going to pay for that. He was going to go through as much pain as he had just caused my brother. Soon, but not yet. My priority was Beau.

"Hush, my frère, I'm here." I hummed and rocked him for a while until his breathing became somewhat normal and his convulsions lessoned.

I leaned over slightly with him still in my arms and grabbed his orange pill bottle and water. I shook a pill onto my palm and sat back. "Here, take this." He peeked through crusty eyes, then took the medicine; gulping down water.

I placed the water and orange bottle back on the coffee table, grabbing the damp cloth and covering the back of his neck with it. He sighed and laid his head on my shoulder. I leaned back against the fluffy armrest and began to sing...

"Hush, my love, my beautiful soul.

The birds sing just for you.

And so shall I.

I am here.

Never moving.

Your rock, your solid haven.

Never fear the dark, for I shall be your light.

I will fight and bear your pain as my own.

Hold me tight, my dear, beautiful soul.

My love, free yourself.

Leave the pain and come with me to a peaceful place.

Sleep and rest, tomorrow shall be new day."

Once I heard Beau's light snoring, I sobbed quietly. I had absolutely no idea how to help my brother. I felt so helpless and alone; the high washed completely out of my system. I wanted to scream, I wanted to fight, to take action...do something. Anything other than doing nothing but singing and sobbing. I wanted to pour what little strength I had into Beau and take in his cancer. I would bear it with a smile if I never had to see my brother suffer ever again. I hated whoever was up in the heavenly skies with great passion. If there was any great Creator, they were one sick bastard.

As I said before, I loathed myself.


Fils de Pute - Son of a bitch!

Perverti - Pervert

Soeur -Sister

Frère - Brother

Le Petite - Little One

Merde - Shit

Bonjour - Hello

Merci - Thank You

Mon dieu - My God!

Oh dieu - Oh God!

Casse-Couille- Pain in the ass

Je t'emmerde, trouduc! - Screw you, asshole!

Baise-moi - Fuck me!