Dine
and Dash
*~*~* Chapter Eleven – The
Answering Miracles *~*~*
‘He's the only stable thing in the
swirling chaos.’ ― (Beth Revis)
I can taste the tension in the room on
my lips. Ice pumps out my heart at a rapid speed. Chilling my body as it
travels in my bloodstream, painting my skin in goosebumps. My eyes are frozen
on the silver gleam of his gun. It glints and shines as he draws it higher. His
uniform is mussed and dirty from his trek but it's still enough to kill all
sounds in the room.
Fear grips me in its venomous claws and
I know I'm not alone when I hear Rosalie and Victoria rise to their feet and
hold their breaths too.
"Can I help you?" I can tell
by her voice that Rose's composure is forced as we stand facing the ever
advancing cop.
He moves at a steady, slow pace edging
his way toward the bar and lounge area.
"Odd place to be find'n three young
ladies." Waylon's voice is stern and I can tell the cop in him smells a
rat.
Cop? Cop!
"Noooo." I drawl. Feigning
nonchalance because technically… yes I hate this man, but right now
I speak on behalf of Rose, Tori and
myself when I say: This is bad. Really bad. "We just like hanging out in
private places."
Waylon scowls. It makes me smirk
internally.
"Which, just so you know, this
property is. Do you have a warrant?" I ask innocently.
He shifts and that's all the
encouragement I need. It's a Wolf related thing. Even though we seldom hang out
away from the guys, thanks to the backing we get from the gang, the girls
involved with La Push's ruling crowd can generally bullshit our way out of
nearly anything when it comes to the law. I've never actually done this without
Leah or Rachel before but hey, no time like the present for a solo career
right?
Slipping my game face on, I send a
silent prayer to the heavens in thanks for making me the daughter of a cop, then
hold Waylon's gaze fiercely. "Cause if you don't, you've got to
leave."
"Don't you watch the news, Missy?
There's an investigation in Forks. It's being headed by the
Seattle police force."
I hated his tone, I hated his
patronizing way of speaking to me and fuck me, AGAIN with the Missy! But I
couldn't slip and be irrational right now. Fighting a cop would be bad, so bad.
We didn't have a chance against his weapon and it would completely screw us
over if we got arrested. This had to be fought with smarts first. Forks was
technically Seattle's jurisdiction until they either caught their man or gave
up on the case. And I now knew their guy to be Royce King.
And Royce is evidently someone my
boyfriend is willing to risk his life for so it ultimately makes him fucking
important to me by association. At the very least just until my Edward's back
and I know he's okay. Till then for the part that I can help I'll make sure his
affairs are safe.
Those thoughts are honest, simple and as
pure as law breaking can be but it's all it takes for my mind to start flying
again. Folding my arms, I tilt my head glaring at Forgeyboy. He's beating
around the bush. I pounce.
"What's that got to do with having
a warrant or not?" I snap.
Rosalie's presence at my side suddenly
came to life. Arms crossed and stance blasé enough to match mine, she stepped
forward, stopping beside me. The intimidating blonde from our first encounter
at Nell' Ombra makes her appearance.
"Precisely." She pronounces
with venom and an arched brow. Circling one long manicured finger in the air,
she gestures to the building before speaking again. "This is private
property."
"Cop or not, you need a warrant to
be here." Tori bites out, standing at her full height.
We're being all 'Charlie's Angels' right
now, but if you could break into our heads, you'd see a mini-version running
around with hands in the air. Freaked. The. Fuck. Out.
Gluing our game faces on despite the
distinct urge to hightail it to safety, we stand tall looking at him.
I didn't understand his motive. He
hadn't produced a warrant to search the place. My gut was telling me something
was off. I didn't think he wanted to search it?... No, it's more like he wanted
to know what we were doing in it?...
Minus my being an accessory to a crime,
the Police Chief in my father would be so proud that I pulled such influence
from him.
Looking closer at Waylon, I took careful
note of the worried wrinkles lining his forehead. He was sweating. Waylon Forge
was more on edge then we were. Armed with that information, I got my second
wind.
"And we're unarmed." I snap.
Despite my cool façade, subconsciously I slip my hand to my side. Discreetly
dipping it into Edward's oversized hoodie and wrapping my fingers around the
cold metal of the blade hidden in the pocket. I up my game face. "We don't
pose a threat to you, so stop pointing that thing at us." My voice was
steady and calm in a command even though I was shitting myself on the inside.
Waylon scowled, his badge glinting with
authority, he lowered the gun but he continued to cross the floor towards us.
His slow footfalls never faltering once.
"Look, if you have a valid reason
to be here, let's have it." Tori snapped defensively, when he was a mere
few feet before us.
"Can I see the papers for this
place?" Waylon directs the question to us coldly.
My eyes narrow. His body language is
wrong. He already knows we don't have it? But how?
Why would Waylon be so protective of
this place?
I'm the only one who seems to have
caught these things about him though because I'm close enough to see Rosalie's
face pale slightly. I would've argued again but the words caught in my throat
when Tor and I hear what Rose does. We were screwed. There where distinct
footsteps thudding up the staircase towards the door. I could feel the fear
gripping us in its merciless claws as I pictured the hounds of cops about to
swarm this place. We stood dead still as we stared from Waylon to the door at
his back.
Rose and Tori needed Waylon to disappear
because Royce was in danger of the very cops Forge represented. We collectively
needed him gone because if he arrested us, we were screwed in every sense of
the word with no one to save our asses because honestly we'd rather be arrested
than implicate Edward and his guys. Gang loyalty. It's what we do. Granted, I
was usually doing this for another gang but details change, you know. Every
step this man took towards us got him closer to the wall in the lounge we
desperately needed to keep him away from. The one with the fireplace that was
littered with pictures of Royce. We had a firm hint that some of the Shadow
Fangs were already in custody, so this would implicate them as well as us. Then
there was me and my solo problem, this would screw me over for all eternity.
Not only would Dad find out I wasn't at work, he'd find out Waylon found me
while searching a warehouse in the middle of the forest for Royce King, the
felon who's case is keeping him away from home more often than usual.
Along with breaking the heart and trust
of my dad, I'd be spitting in the faces of my Wolves. I'm not sure they'd ever
be able to forgive me. If they didn't, I couldn't even blame them.
I'd made an active choice to be with
Edward. I knew what it could cost me if they found out, but
I still couldn't bring myself to stay
away from him. I broke one of my loyalties to the Grey
Wolves because I have severe feelings
for Edward, I didn't regret it and I wouldn't be able to blame them if this
went south but I loved them equally, it was what it was. I could feel that
thought crippling me from deep within the pit of my stomach. Losing them, the
safety net of my family, would kill me. If I lost Jake, would that mean I'd
have to stay away from Billy and Sarah too?
Fighting hard against the rising bile, I
push aside those thoughts. Losing La Push would break my heart, completely pull
the ground out from under my feet but right now, I was faced with fucking
Seattle and I needed to protect Forks…
Jesus, who'd have thought I'd say that
one day?
"Yeah, I didn't think so."
Waylon said, raising the gun again. "Now, what you girls doin' here?"
Just as my fingers wrap firmer around
the blade to yank it out I hear one of the hurried footsteps push through the
door.
Dirty, bruised and bleeding, I recognize
the man instantly.
"Forge, stop fucking with my kid."
The utter exhaustion in his voice
doesn't drown the commanding undertones of the striking man.
His hoarse deadpan instantaneously
stills everything in the room.
"ROYCE!" Rose screams and
launches herself at him just as Edward enters with a few other
Shadow Fangs. Emmett, Caius and Demetri.
They remain in the doorway, tossing their guns carelessly onto the hall table.
I'm dumbfounded, watching them with
unbelieving eyes. My gaze remains on Edward, relieved, confused and awed. He's
here.
I don't know why that makes me feel
better because it's not like I can protect him physically, though I'd sure as
hell try if I had to. I guess I'm simply relieved because seeing him in the
flesh means he's okay. My fear of him having been arrested is one nightmare I'm
not faced with. The relief nearly makes my legs give way. The confusion fights
for dominance against the relief but loses even though I don't really
understand how it is that Waylon's not arresting them.
Everything suddenly fades out when my
brain starts functioning enough to process what I'm seeing. Then I'm mesmerized
because Edward is grinning. It's a 'smile grin'. A glint of complete happiness
cocooned in his wicked naturally sinister smirk. In my peripheral vision, I see
Rose grab Royce in a bear hug the second she's within reach. He winces and she
backs up, but aside from that there isn't a face I see that isn't a little
giddy with glee. Even Waylon's bloody grinning, walking over to the bar and
grabbing a bottle of whiskey—
Wait! Back up. The hell?
I look again and see the same thing.
Automatically, I let go of the blade I'm wielding in my pocket and gape with a
comically slack jaw when he tips back the bottle and knocks back a swig of the
hard liquor, clearly experiencing his own relief that we're with the Shadow
Fangs too.
I feel eyes on me, an intense burning
that sears my skin and makes my pulse skyrocket. The pull he has on me is soul
gripping. My body turns instantly and I lock onto his jade eyes, staring at me
quizzically.
He's dirty, a sweaty sheen covers him, I
can see traces of blood leaking from the scratches on his tall, beautiful frame
and his dark clothes are soaked and caked with mud in some areas. All it takes
is one long crooked finger in my direction and my feet fly forward, leaving my
brain confused and alone where I once stood.
His grin widens, just before I slam into
his body and I feel his chest vibrate under my cheek with a silent chuckle. His
arms lock around me and mine wrap fiercely around him. It feels like I'm
floating, my feet don't touch the ground, my heart pounds blood into my
eardrums deafeningly. The beats are in time with an insistent thumping sound
that damn near brings tears to my eyes.
It's only then with my ear pressed to
his chest, his dogtags digging into my temple, that I realize, I was terrified
for him above all else… Having tangible evidence that he was here safe and
sound, even if he was banged up, was like being able to breathe for the first
time.
I feel thick, warm liquid under my
fingertips. My brows furrow and I pull back in confusion at the familiar
consistency between my fingers. Oh God… I claw and crawl up him to see his
face.
"You're bleeding." I whisper.
"Only a little bit." He
smirks, matching my soft tone teasingly.
Before I can knock him one upside the
head because it's not a trivial matter that he's hurt, I hear a distinctive
laugh behind me and look up just in time to see James walk in and exchange an
amused look with Edward.
There's blood flowing in a steady stream
down the side of his face from a deep gash on his forehead and one of his
piercing blue eyes is fractionally shut from the swelling around it. He's
distracted by Victoria when she races to him, her traveling hands taking
inventory of his injuries and her lips peppering kisses to his chest and collar
because that's as high as she can reach with her lips when he's standing up
straight. I have the same problem with Edward.
"James!" Toria's frantic.
Looking at him I don't blame her. "What the fuck happened!"
A dark shadow falls over the room,
adding strain to the happiness. I can almost see it happen before my very eyes.
A looming cloud blackens the air around us, smiles fading to nothingness as it
spreads its holding ground. Tension's rising at rapid speeds around us. From
the look on Toria's face, I can tell I'm not the only one curious as to what's
going on.
"Where's Jazz?"
Still locked in Edward's arms, the best
I can do is swivel my head to the right where Rosalie stands, her question
metaphorically echoing in the room. Stepping away from Muscleman and Royce, she
took one look at Edward and reality visibly seemed to crash down on her.
"Where's Jasper?" she repeats
more urgently, moving closer towards her cousin, her steps speeding up when her
now timid green eyes land on Edward’s blood coating my fingers.
Edward's deadly rigid in my arms. His
body taut and fierce, I can practically taste the rage burning inside him. I
find myself slightly fearful… I hadn't really thought about that. This was
technically a family matter… And even if they didn't show it, I could tell they
were fiercely close so why would he come back without his cousin? My heart
drops rapidly as the worst case scenario plays out in my head.
"Edward…" Rosalie's soft gaze
flitters up from the blood coating her fingers from Edward's face as she turned
him towards her. She sounded desperate. A sound I would've never initially
guessed she'd ever be capable of using. "Where is he?"
We all look to Edward for an answer. But
it's another voice that responds.
"We'll get him out." Royce
sags against the door frame trying to catch his breath.
Simple and to the point, but that was
some reassurance because at his voice, the strain in the room seemed to ease.
At Edward's answering devilish smirk, it
damn near fucking evaporated. "Sure as fuck, he's getting out."
There's some hidden message in his words
but it would appear only the guys are privy to it. I couldn't care less.
Everyone that mattered was apparently alive even if they weren't well. With
that worry put to ease I could be perfectly honest with myself and admit that
right now all that mattered was the idiot in front of me. Placing my hands on
his back, higher up than from where he was bleeding I buried my face in his
neck, inhaling deeply and giving in to the fact that Edward Cullen meant more
to me than I let myself know. He responded by holding me tighter even though
his attention was on the rest of the room.
From my position against his chest, I
can see Royce clearly. My curiosity over this man remains ever peaked. I'd
forgotten about him in totality in my rush to get to Edward. However, I'd
apparently been the only one to commit that mistake.
I feel Edward's silent laugh as Rose
gives Waylon the stink eye while she walks towards Royce. Part of me is
thrilled, wondering if Waylon will freak out now that he knows that Rosalie is
related to both Royce and Edward. Fucker.
"God, I can't believe you're
back." The relief and affection laced in her tone is heartbreaking.
"It's— I mean— You're— Just— Jesus! " She shakes her head and
then laughs. A beaming smile stretches across her face as the intoxication of
unadulterated happiness takes over again. She squeals loudly, looking like a
child.
Royce smirks, laughing even though it's
strained from pain. He's covered in dirt, drenched to the bone and clearly
wounded. But apparently Rosalie hasn't noticed. She barrels at him again,
barely giving the visibly drained man enough time to brace himself for it.
I watch curiously. Royce King. He
remained as striking as he had the day I'd seen him in the forest. Naturally
menacing and as deathly glorious as his nephew. I notice burns and wounds on
his skin though and it makes me examine him harder. My eyes grow wide when I
realize there's actually very little flesh visible on him that isn't wounded.
"La bambina. (Baby girl) " He
may be worse for the wear but he still manages to pick up Rose and return the
hug with a little less vigor considering how worn out he is. He chuckles.
"How you been?"
"Jesus, he is not." Edward
deadpans and Rose rolls her eyes when he and his maker chuckle at her expense.
"And I did all the fucking work." His velvet voice comes out uneven
from exhaustion even as he teases. He picks up his voice a tad and swings his
head fully towards them growing serious for a second. "And for fuck's sake,
get off him Rose—" he orders stepping forward a little when Royce starts
wheezing and heaving. "— he's cut open!"
Rose slips away from Royce, white as a
sheet. "Uncle Roy?" she asks, looking him over for the first time.
"Relax la piccola Elisabetta
(Little Elizabeth). Gimme a second, I'll be good as new." He smirks
through his obvious discomfort reminding me so much of someone else I know.
Royce walks over to the lounge unhooking a strap of dangling guns, refills and
knives from beneath his hoodie and dropping it to the floor as he collapses
onto the chaise closest to him.
Everyone follows suit and heads in the
direction of the lounge save me, Edward, James and Toria.
"Aren't you supposed to be home by
now?" he whispers into my hair.
"Home!" I shriek, momentarily
forgetting where we are. I slam into his chest with my fists apparently also
forgetting he's hurt. "I was worried, you jackass."
His arms wrapped around me instinctively
steadying us both. I felt his chest vibrate and looked up to see a
breathtakingly amused smirk plastered to his sinfully beautiful face.
"What the hell is wrong with
you!" I growl into his soaked shirt, burying my head into his shoulder,
needing his scent so badly right now so I can absorb him. I'm irrationally pissed
at his recklessness. He's a gangster, I mean, come on, Bella. He's in constant
dangerous situations because he himself is dangerous. It comes with the
territory.
"Wrong with me?" his tone
dances playfully. "You're the one attacking felons."
I hear indiscreet snorts and remember
we're not alone. Pulling back quickly I look at him, really look at him. He's a
mess.
"Oh my God." I exclaim.
He smirks broader. I know what he's
thinking and I want to smack him for it but stop myself because that would defeat
the purpose.
"What happened?" My fingertips
lightly trace his cuts and bruises.
"Minor run in with the feds."
He says. It's short and clipped. I know without asking that something went
wrong out there that lead to Jasper being cuffed. He's pissed off. More than I
think I've ever seen before. The storm he's keeping at bay is of colossal
proportions.
"Edward, did everyone get out all
right?" His hard eyes dart to me and I clarify. "Not Jasper. Aside
from lockup— The Sha— Your gang. They got out safe?"
He raises a brow. An undecipherable
glint churning in the dark emerald oceans. Maybe it's because I showed concern
for Fangs? Maybe it's because they didn't all get out? So many maybes and then
he's saved from answering me by a teasingly incredulous deadpan.
"Well, loooook who's done
teething."
I whip my head to the side and catch
James smirk at Edward as Toria with a grin unlocks her legs from around the
blue eyed mischievous Lucifer incarnates hips.
"Aw c'mon." He pouts
mockingly, and then drawls out. "Flash me those fangs la sirena."
Despite my best efforts to fight it my
lips curls upwards and I laugh straight out my gut. I must be insane.
"You know at some point I want to
know why you and your posse call me a mermaid." I say.
Edward watches the exchange with hidden
amusement. James throws a dramatic, accusing glare at Toria and she kisses him
in response with a tinkly sounding giggle.
"You're an ass." Tori scowls
at him after her shocking display of a higher than PG make-out. "How the
hell did you get so banged up?"
In that moment she reminds me of Rachel,
using anger as a front to cover up her worry. Everyone's got a mask, this is
theirs. James smirks and grabs her hands in a death grip when she tries to swat
him, lifting her up against him again, he makes her hold him.
"C'mon." Even when he pretends
to whine the predatorial edge to him doesn't fade. "Bella missed Edward
more than you missed me."
Huh?
James face is sinfully innocent but
Toria tries to bite back her grin so miserably hard she looks seconds away from
busting her lip open.
I've been so worried about looking
around me that I hadn't looked down until now. I can't see feet. Any feet.
Oh hell…
My faces flames brightly, I wiggle
desperately to get off Edward. My legs begrudgingly let go of his waist but his
hands keep me floating in the air. A wicked grin on his face he leans down so
we're at eye level.
"Where you tryna go?" His
voice is low and husky, promising trouble.
My eyes grow hungry and my core drips a
little. I flush further under his knowing, lustful gaze and he finally lowers
me to the ground. His lips connect to mine chastely the second my feet connect
with the floor. It's soft and quick but it sends my mind into a tailspin. A
quiet moan of contentment escapes me when he licks a line across my bottom lip.
He pulls back and grins. Standing at his full height he towers over me as he
locks our fingers together and leads me towards the lounge.
I feel the distinct need to plant my feet
firmly on the ground. My self-preservation instincts tell me not to go there.
Force of habit. Raised and bred on La Push you tend to be cautious when
surrounded by another gang. I can't help it. This is still going to take some
getting used to.
When James flanks Edward I have little
choice in the matter though. Toria is practically super glued to his side. It'd
be amusing if I wasn't about to share a room with 'Royce King, royal felon on
the run'. All things considered I felt the need to follow his lead and bolt!
"James, ti occupi tu di Jazz e
Alec? (James, you handle Jazz and Alec?) " I look at Edward's dark tall
frame through my lashes, soaking it up. There's the Italian that curls my toes.
"Laurent lo fa già. (Laurent's
already on it) " James replies. It's the first time I've heard him
maintain a conversation in the language.
Edward nods, turning his attention to
his uncle who's got his eyes closed, facing the ceiling with his head dropped
back. "Roy, va bene? (Roy, you good?) "
Royce smiles crooked despite the tired,
pained look in his devilish eyes when he opens them. Green. "Vivere, il
nipote. Sempre vivere. (Living nephew. Always living.) "
Edward grins, sinking into a lounger,
pulling me with him. I end up nestled into his body as he leans back lazily.
His muscles tensed and bunched up beneath me stretch and I swear, hurt or not,
this wickedly attractive criminal will be the death of me. I groan internally
as he settles me against him better until his chest serves as my backrest and I
can easily feel his breath at the side of my face and down my neck when he
speaks.
"Bella." He says simply in
introduction and I realize he's just all about talking because he elaborates no
further.
I feel a shift in the air and look
straight ahead to collide with Royce. He grins in hello, looking exactly how he
did in the forest, the picture of Shadow Fang, regardless of what's going on,
they never lose the wicked air surrounding them. I offer him a half-hearted
wave and wolfish grin to mask my natural apprehension since I'm really out of
my element.
"You've met Royce before."
Edward continues, bouncing me on his leg once and speaking against my ear
softly, sensing my unease. He wants confirmation that this is who I saw in the
forest. Royce offers it on behalf of me.
"Red Riding Hood."
"Jesus, does everyone you know have
an aversion to my name." I whisper under my breath.
Edward chuckles beneath me and I don't
understand why until his uncle speaks again.
"I was going out on a limb when I
saw her, wasn't certain who she was and if your story was for real. But then I
figured if any fucker's crazy enough to fucking go after his rival's girl, it's
probably my muthafucking nephew."
I feel Edward's smile against my
shoulder. He kisses the back of my neck, licking a slow circle at his prize on
his lap. I shiver involuntarily. He's tired but his thumb rubs my outer thighs
lightly when he feels me stiffen when I finally draw up the brainpower and
comprehend the words. Nervous, I pull my hair into a ponytail, gathering 'Red
Riding Hood' has more to do with the big bad Wolves than it does with finding
me in the forest, though both are very convenient for the title. Cocky, smug
ass bastard-ness must run in Edward's family. I laugh on the inside, even
though I'm rigid on the outside.
Royce catches my movement and smirks
with his eyes reassuringly. "Don't fret cara (dear/darling). I couldn't
care less."
He says it so easily I have a hard time
believing him until he leans back, really unaffected by my family ties because
he's THAT sure of his nephew. His lack of concern is peculiar, peaking my
interest, considering how pissed everyone else constantly seems to be about the
Wolves. But if Royce planned on speaking to me some more it needed to be pushed
to a later date, the man was in some serious pain.
As if I need the confirmation I watch
him wince, his eyes closed tight. He sputters a bit and blood stains his shirt
when he clutches at his abdomen. I recall Edward saying he was cut up.
"Edward?" I whisper. He tilts
his head toward me. "Your uncle's bleeding. A lot."
His brows furrow and his jaw sets. A
grim look mars his face. "He's pretty banged up."
"How deep's the cut?" I
question because he's been on the run for God knows how long, if he's been like
that for a long period of time, he needs help. Now.
Edward's face says it all. I'm clearly
not the first to have thought of this. Green orbs watch me intensely before he
drops his head back exasperated. I know the feeling too well. In this line of
work there's no simple visit to ER or a doctor. You need someone who isn't
likely to be sighted by cops. Those people are far and few here. It's well
known that aside from the gangs everyone is pretty straight-laced in town.
Speaking from personal experience, in La Push, for the most part, Leah and I
are relied on to fix up the guys when they're too messed up or stubborn to do
it themselves. It's in no way pleasant for either party.
"I'm working on it
Cappuccinetto." He says. The strain behind the words is not lost to me. I
don't understand what the problem is. It's more than what's on the surface that
much is for sure. He catches my gaze and shakes his head telling me not to ask.
"Don't worry about it. I'll sort something out."
Clutching a couple of beers James
collapses on the seat next to us. He hands one to Edward then holds his own to
his swollen eye before tipping it back and taking a swig. "Sort out
what?"
I miss Edward's tight jaw as he flips
the top off the bottle and answer James on a knee-jerk reaction. "A doctor."
"Not Carlisle."
I freeze dead on the spot even though
I'm not the one Royce is talking to. Granted I've known him a very short while,
but I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that Royce seldom sounds like that. From the look of things around me I know I'm
right. It's not a tone he usually uses. It's clear dismissal of the thought.
Blunt but still casual and cool with only hints of disregard.
Carlisle? I swear to God I've heard that
name before.
Edward doesn't seem fazed by any of
this. "Wouldn't dream of it." he replies nonchalantly.
"We don't have anyone else
man." James pipes in lazily, guzzling his beer like its water and reaching
for another. Thirsty, this one.
Edward shrugs indifferently, his head
still facing the ceiling. Royce catches it and sniggers shaking his head at
Edward's behavior. Then James smirks because apparently none of the three give
a flying fuck. I stare at each man bewildered.
"You're crazy." I whisper to
Edward.
"Yeah?" he opens one eye to
look at me. The corner of his lip twitches. "Why's that?"
"I'm assuming Carlisle is
doctor—"
"Among other things." He
interrupts me, straight-faced. I can detect mischief twinkling in his eyes.
James snorts his beer back out his mouth
at some inside joke and I swear to God, I think he says, " that's one way to put it Cullen ",
under his breath.
I ignore them and the person I
cautiously see enter the house but trail in the doorway. He's a young guy, with
dark brown hair and under the dirt and grime, he's wearing Shadow Fang colors
and a ridiculous amount of cuts and bruises too. He should just walk right in
really, he'd be right at home here.
"Edward your uncle needs a doctor.
He's weak as it is and God knows how much blood he's losing." I add as an
afterthought, going over it some more all my deliberations are increasingly
worrying, I might end up volunteering myself. "Cleaning it up isn't going
to help him much if it's deep. Someone's gotta stitch him up."
Edward peers at me for a lot longer than
required for those simple words. I squirm a little. He doesn't react on the
outside but I see the smile in his eyes. "We'll stitch him up here,
piccola (baby). Tor'll take care of it, don't stress." He dismisses
easily.
I smile a little smug on the inside.
That's that then. The upside of having a hard life? You're naturally innovative
to ensure you survive.
Just then I see Waylon walk across to
the bar for some ice. Edward's grin is so huge and amused I don't even need to
see it to know it's there. I can feel it!
Smug bastard.
I look from Waylon to Edward but he
ignores my questioning gaze, offering me no explanation. I don't need one. I
should've guessed something was up when he told Jake those were 'his cops' the
night after my dare trouble. Why else would a cop be in such a rush to protect
the restaurant of a criminal from even minor theft.
"What are you still doing
here?" he asks instead.
~.~.~D&D chap11 cont~.~.~
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