Dine&Dash Chap11 (Part 4)

Disclaimer:  All publicly recognizable characters, quotes, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners and are simply used under 'fair use'. The original characters and plot are the property of the author KittyTylz. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is story is written for the legally recognized adult population.

Dine and Dash

*~*~* Chapter Eleven – The Answering Miracles *~*~*

‘He's the only stable thing in the swirling chaos.’ ― (Beth Revis)

I tap my foot and lean on the cue while I wait for him to rejoin my English conversation. He does, with a sinful grin, shaking his head and calming his breaths a little.

"Your hair's brown." he nods towards me. "It's a fairly nice bonus that your eyes match them too shortstuff." He adds as an afterthought, smirking when I huff at him on the quip on my height.

How's it my fault he's so tall? He appraises my petite figure, his gaze lingering on my thighs in ways that makes me wonder if he's thinking about them wrapped around his waist.

"Says the guy with blonde bimbos left and right." I snipe. "Except Rose." I add quickly. Rose is cool.

"I'll have to tell James, Jazz and Caius how you feel about them then." He deadpans with an eye roll.

I miscue to return his favor and he sinks his next shot then straightens up.

"I prefer brunettes." He says seriously. "Let your hair down Bella."

I cock a brow. "What?"

"How's it fair? You're having all the fun." He pouts. Mocking sincerity as he leans his side against the table. "Give me a piece of your clothing every shot I make."

My eyes darken. He doesn't miss it.

"C'mon you like dares." His voice drops an octave coaxing me. Challenging me. "I dare you."

"I'll go easy on you." His voice drips sex as he braces himself for the next shot waiting for his winnings. Condescendingly making use of my earlier words he leans forward, watching me over the table until I undo my hair. "Give me your hair band Bella."

"Fine." Undoing my hair is the perfect distraction. I shove his pool cue forward with my hip as I walk past and slam the elastic hair band on the table. Watching him growl at the miscue, I cockily snuggle into my clothes for effect. "It's going to be a warm game." I quip, smugly.

He straightens, accepting the challenge. I'm not fooled, there's wicked fire burning in his eyes. It's so on now.

I scamper off quickly to the other side of the table to make my shot from a far enough distance so he can't distract me. One more ball down.

"How'd you end up starting Shadow Fangs?" Is my next question.

"Ran away from home at 12."

I nearly fucking die. He laughs with a brilliant smile, enjoying the reaction.

"Family didn't need kids as bad as they needed order." He shrugs. "Knew where Roy lived so I went there. He took me under his wing." He ends off in a way that says, 'and the rest is history' but I straighten up, signaling him to continue.

He does, in utter boredom of the topic.

"He lived in a shady area back then and he had to go out a lot but no one hassled me. Too scared of him. James lived in the same building. We met by mistake, became quick friends." By the way he glosses over it I know there's more to that story than he's letting on. The amused twitch playing at the corner of his lips makes me wanna dive inside his head and see what he's seeing in his faraway mind. "Jazz had his own shit, his dad's crazy as fuck." Spoken with perplexed humor he goes on. "By 15, he had him signed up for every muthafucking extra class known to man. He rebelled. Family trend." The mischief in his smirk makes me smile too. He goes on, bored again. "Next thing I know, Roy's out on a job and someone's pounding on my door at the dead of fucking night. I was tired as fuck that night too, if it was anyone but him they would've left in a wheelchair. Roy wouldn't turn us away even when he had to split. He left us with the place. Lived there for a while. We were cocky bastards, we were good and we knew it. Could do anything, so we did. We ran with a rough crowd, there was a fallout. One thing lead to another and next thing we know we were running a rough crowd."

"You took out Raven Dynasty." I complete the story for him. Everyone knew that the Shadow Fangs took out the former gang running in Forks. It added to the fear surrounding the enigmatic Edward Cullen and his members. RD was hardcore and far too strong. It was unfathomable that a gang so young could cause such an uproar and come into power yet they did.

"With a little help from the uncle and his mate." He smirks, his eyes cold. "We took out Raven Dynasty."

I swallow unable to speak so I line up my next shot deciding to go for something easy to follow up with. He's answering so honestly I don't want to take advantage of it and pry. I make the difficult pocket and watch him tilt his head and appraise the shot with a crooked grin. It does weird things to my tummy.

"You went to Forks High?"

He snorts at the drastic change of pace in my line of questioning. He answers but doesn't mention the name of the school. "I had to go to school. Could do whatever the fuck I wanted just as long as I got my ass to fucking school. One fucking thing Roy never swayed on."

I line up my next shot and he chooses then to stretch free his stiff muscles. I see a small sliver of his hard stomach and the stripe misses the pocket completely. "Shit." I cuss.

He grabs one of the cues closest to him and pockets his solid with the speed and immaculate precision of a striking cobra. I'm stunned speechless.

"Lose the jacket."

I barely have his hoodie fully off me when I freeze, drinking him in. He lights a cigarette. I watch fascinated as it dangles from his lips while he lines his next shot. He inhales deeply making his next pocket, then stands up, releasing the smoke through his nose. Finally, his fingers reach up and touch the stem of the burning demon. He smiles crooked.

"Take off your shoes."

I toe them off with my socks and hold my breath watching his lean muscles flex as he makes the next one. The white rolls the solid to the corner pocket, expertly coming to a stop just before falling in.

Bastard, intentionally blocked off my only direct shot!

"Yours." He hands me the cue, I snatch it in a huff, ignoring his knowing grin.

Reeling in my raging hormones I aim directly across the table, draw back my cue and send the white flying. It hits the cushion and deflects proficiently to my stripe on the left, neatly sinking it into the pocket I'm standing at.

"Tell me about Royce?" If he's going to play like that then I may as well ask one of the questions that have been bugging me lest this game end too soon. "And this time no evasive one-liners." I shake my head. "I want it all because I almost went through the motions of getting myself arrested to save his ass for you, thinking you were locked up! And he looks so young to be your uncle!" I don't realize I'm rambling out everything on my mind. "And you all look so happy in pictures with him! And his last names King but yours is Cullen—”

"Whoa, ease up piccola." He halts my word train, his shoulders shaking with mirth as he holds his palms up in surrender. I quietly watch a shadow fall over him as he leans against the table and tips back his beer. Taking a lazy drag out his cigarette, smoke seeps from his lips with each word. "Uncle Roy's a son-of-a-bitch. Cold, hard, ruthless." The words are prideful, hanging in the air as he takes another drink, putting out the cigarette. Riveted, I wait in the silence for him to continue. "He's as dangerous as I am, probably more." I find that hard to believe but say nothing to distract him.

"Gang?" I question instead. This is one subject I want and will demand information on. He must see it too because he lowers his walls fractionally to let me in on something I know holds importance to him.

He shakes his head. No. "The gang was more my thing but he helped."

I want to know more. How. Why. But I let him continue the way he wants.

"Roy's in with something bigger." It takes him a while to search for a word before he settles on 'bigger'. He's being vague. I know it. Again, I let it slide because he's always honest with me about the important stuff. He goes on. "But he pulls jobs exclusively. Crafty as fuck and he has a lot of connections."

Sounds like someone else in the family there tiger.

"He built himself up from nothing." Edward sinks his teeth into him lip, irritating the wound. I furrow my brows at this because he doesn't sound right when he says it, he catches it. "King's his mother's last name." he qualifies. "Alistair— my grandfather, had an affair. Fucker refused the child afterwards." I might be imagining things but the more he speaks the easier it is to understand that Edward Cullen doesn't like his family. "Roy stayed with his ma till she died. He was 9 then so he had to live with Alistair." Oh fuck... He must've read my sympathy because he smiles, dismissing it from my mind. "All his cards were dealt bad so he figured his own shit out to survive. Like I said," the pride's back, "crafty bastard."

We're quiet for a beat then he scoffs. "My family's made of money. Fucking loaded." Edward's rich. I know he's rich. Gangsters usually have money. I didn't know his family was. "A lineage of academic stiffs." He goes on. A humorless, sarcastic chuckle dripping with malice drifts to my ears entering my bloodstream and chilling my body from the inside out. "And all I've ever wanted to be was like the black sheep.”

“Roy never fit in. Not that Alistair ever let him. He used mental walls to keep Royce away from his siblings. Carlisle's the eldest, naturally mature and all that bullshit, so he wasn't all bad. Despite the old geezer he tried to get along with Roy. Tried to set him on the straight and narrow," he laughs at the thought, "but Roy was Roy, so they had differences.”

“Carlisle, my father." he clarifies realizing I don't know who he is.

I almost forget how to breathe. Edward's father is a doctor. The fuck? How does that happen? Whoever said the apple doesn't fall far from the tree should shut the fuck up. Right Now.

"He couldn't understand why Roy didn't live up to his potential. Stay out of trouble. At 24, in a lot of ways Carlisle was like Alistair. He didn't see his 11-year-old brother standing there after a beat down from Alistair for scraping his knees shooting hoops instead of doing extra cred or studying shit. He saw a boy messing up, threatening the family prestige by being something less than he should be." I hear the past tense and wonder if anything's changed before Edward's bitter laugh draws me out again and I push the thought for later. "When you pit his street smarts against their fucking GPA, they don't hold a candle to him. Roy's brilliant. I was born thanks to it."

Just like that, Royce King becomes my fucking hero.

I don't realize I'm leaning closer to him until his knuckles and mine touch. An electric shock pulses straight through his hand into mine and he snaps his eyes back to me with an intensity that knocks the breath right out my lungs. Reading my expression he goes on wanting to make me stop looking like someone killed my puppy. He runs a finger across my forehead ridding it of the wrinkles my frown caused.

"My ma has a soft spot for him." He says indifferently. "She went into premature labor with me.

Royce was fucking 11. They were alone when she fell, he figured it'd take twice as much time for an ambulance or Carlisle to drive to the house then back to the hospital so he flagged down a fucking cab and got her to the Medical Center." He chalks up the cue unaffected by any of the words escaping his lips while my whole heart stops altogether at the magnitude of them. "Carlisle delivered me just in time, in the same fucking cab, before she lost me."

I fucking love Royce King.

I feel my eyes sting. It's insane even thinking of a world without Edward, I never want to think of a world without him. Watching him speaking now is surreal, he doesn't even think twice about letting me in. It's then that I figure out he just wanted to wait until after I met Royce before he gave me any information on the man in case something went wrong with the plan.

"The first Cullen 'heir' was born thanks to him." he shakes his head with cold eyes. "Eleazar and Elizabeth never got along with him at all. Resented him for being proof that his mother broke their mother's heart." There's no humor in his chuckle. "Muthafucking bullshit. His ma wasn't even fucking legal when she got knocked up. Alistair was to blame. He was the fucker married to Cynthia." He drifts off for a moment seething, and then gets back to his point, easing the tension in his shoulders so fast I think I imagined it there in the first place.

"They hate him to date. Roy doesn't give a shit though. Never held a grudge. Not his style." He must sense my confusion because he smiles with humor this time. "Right!" he smirks and I smirk too just because he's so animated right now. It fades fast as he continues, making way for a colossal stony expression. His voice turns arctic. "Eleazar, white collar lawyer, he's Jasper's old man. Then the youngest of Alistair and Cynthia's brood is Elizabeth, Rose's mother. Straight-laced accountant bitch. I can't stand her."

Nooo. Really? He sniggers at my facial sarcasm. A condescending grin weaves across his face, he whistles low, dark and dramatic at a new thought.

"Picture perfect family of Cullen's. All blonde-haired and green-fucking-eyed." He saunters to the kitchen. "Then a boy not meant for rules shows up. They had no idea how to fit him into their world. It was easier to forget about him and the inconvenience he brought."

I swallow thickly feeling sorrow for Royce, not only because Edward looks up to him so much, but because I can relate to that one personally on one count. Edward remains unaware of my musings as he opens the fridge. I turn to him at his snigger as he walks back opening a bottle of water. One look at the breathtaking smirk on his face and all is right again. I smile when he looks up. He takes a sip then hands me the bottle lifting me up to the table so he can stand between my open legs. I drink and he speaks.

"Twist of fate, when their kids were born, we fucking loved Roy." His shoulders shake with mirth but behind it it's a half amused half sinister mask. "He was the only real fucker in the house. On a fucking whim, he'd buy us shit just 'cause it reminded him of us. Helped us reach the cereal fucking box. Insignificant shit. I was the only grandchild living at the estate. Jazz was in Texas and Rose in Manhattan. He'd come in my room and draw the drapes during thunder storms so the shit wouldn't freak out the toddler. Stuff his ma used to do for him and he knew no one at the estate would think of doing for me."

Wow. I feel a tug in my chest as I watch him but I don't interrupt.

"As we grew it kinda pissed us the fuck off how he got treated. He was always left out in the family, fading to the background so he wouldn't disturb the peace when there were get-togethers on Christmas or any other fucking holidays. We never understood it at first, then one day Rosie's old lady slips up and blurts out, 'he's not her brother', with enough venom to poison the whole fucking family." It's almost tangible the way his aura turns black as night before my very eyes. I hold my breath and look at him. "He never said anything back. No matter what the fuck they did. He just breezed through it. Until one day when he was old enough he just fucking left. Nowhere to go and not a dollar in his pocket. At 16, just like how he came, he went. Wordlessly. With muthafucking nothing."

I feel my heart shudder. He shakes his head at some thought then laughs softly, hysterical and amused, his thumbs gently toying with my hip bones so I can stop offering him the water and feed it to him myself. I do, bringing the bottle to his lips so he can drink. His fingers dip a little lower until they tip into the waistband of my shorts. I lick my lips unconsciously and pull back the bottle from his moist lips, an inferno burning in his eyes that matches the one in my panty-less crotch.

"You know, when I was a kid I was spoilt muthafucking rotten." He chuckles softly in disbelief, his eyes rich with humor, looking me straight into mine. "An entire family with permanent sticks up their asses, but I was a regular, spoilt rotten kid till he left. Just cause he never wanted me to feel like he did in that house."

He lowers his head and sucks my pulse point. My nipples harden as his cold lips map my skin. "I bailed first chance I got, never looked back. Royce is a lethal muthafucker." I can tell he wants to close this conversation now because he's distracting me. So help me if I'm not going to let him.  "He's nicer than I am." He bites my lobe and pulls down on the flesh. "Won't fuck up anyone off the handle. But he's a throw down guy. Back him in a corner, or mess with his kids, and he'll fuck the world over."

He steps back and my eyes must be black as death because whatever he sees in them frustrates him to the point that he groans low and cusses. "Here." He tosses the cue to me like the stick offends him.

I stifle a giggle because I know what's pissing him off now.

Lining up another shot, I sink it in one long, neat stroke. I can't help but notice how he watches the cue slide between my curled index and middle fingers. My breathing gets a little labored at how intensely he's watching me, predatorily statue still, my Adonis in the corner.

"How'd you know what Tanya said to me?"

He groans, put off. "I got the whole muthafucking town of Forks wired! How the fuck would I not know what happens in my own office?"

Ahh yes. I mentally smack myself. Recovering quickly I drop another ball, already having my next question. "You're running Forks. How'd you end up with Seattle feds on your payroll?"

"I'm a man of many talents."

Cocky bastard. I halt before taking my next shot, remaining braced on the table and look up at his tall dominating frame across the room through my lashes. With the shadows on his back he looks more mysteriously beautiful than I'm used to. His fingers ball into fists and release at his sides to free the tension he's feeling at having to hold back from touching me. I love it. The answers are coming shorter now because he's losing control. It both scares me and thrills me that I want him to snap.

"That's not an answer." I point out, still on the table, with my hair falling in a curtain against my left shoulder and spilling in brown waves onto the felt.

"Yes. It was." He speaks impatiently, almost growling through his clenched teeth. "Now take your shot."

I raise a brow and then something else occurs to me. "Are you not telling me because Charlie's my father?"

He looks flabbergasted. Completely and utterly shocked. "The fuck—? I trust you baby—"

I do cartwheels in my head at his slip up. A million butterflies attack my heart making it flutter wildly in time with its wings. Trying and failing to bite back my happiness I talk because,

There's my next question!

"Why?" I exclaim. "How do you know me Edward? Why is this so intense?" I gesture crazily between us. "Why'd you choose me? A girl from a side you hate! It's insane! But here we are!"

He raises his brow so high it buries itself under his unruly copper hair, amused as fuck. Nonchalantly, he shoves his hands into his pocket and leans against the wall, cocking his head to the side condescendingly.

"That's four questions..." he shrugs the broad shoulders on his tall frame casually. "And you haven't even taken your shot yet."

Huh?

"What?" I whip my head away from him so quickly, the action unwittingly throws my cue forward making me miss my shot like a blindfolded Embry does a piñata.

Son of a bitch!

"That's not fair Edward!" I whine, outraged.

He laughs hysterically, his shoulders shaking from the force. "Neither's cock teasing me so you can milk information Bella." He calls my shit and pushes off the wall with the leg braced against it, digging his hands out his pockets. "Now give me the damn cue and grab your shirt."

~.~.~D&D chap11 cont~.~.~