Guys, forgive me for the fact that this whole thing is slow moving... I promise, Chapter 6 should see a bit of pick-up-and-go...EPOV
“Esme.”
My aunt set a heavy cast iron skillet down in the sink and turned towards me. She focused her gaze on her bare toes, which she was squishing into one of the many shaggy rugs she’d scattered throughout the house.
“He told you about Bella, didn’t he?”
I sighed. “Yeah. How come you never told us about Renée?”
Esme looked up at me, and I could see the shine of unshed tears in her eyes.
“Hey, don’t cry.” I rounded the marble-topped island and folded my arms around her slight figure. She sniffled once, then patted my chest and pushed away, gently.
“It’s ok, Edward. I didn’t tell you kids because I honestly had no idea if I’d ever see her again. I didn’t know where she’d been sent, if she was happy, or if she was even still alive at that point.” She sniffed again and pulled a tissue out of the box on the windowsill above the sink. Dabbing at her nose, she continued. “I only found out about her death because someone in the organization had been keeping tabs on the two of us, and had been ordered to keep our locations secret from each other. And honestly, I almost gave up on locating her, I was so frustrated.” She tossed the tissue away and began on the skillet again, scrubbing furiously now. “I mean, it’s not like Carlisle and I dropped off the face of the earth. We live less than twenty miles from where she and I grew up – how could she have so much trouble finding me?”
Her voice cracked again and I rubbed my hand across her shoulder blades. I felt terrible for her loss, but at the same time I was actually a little peeved that they had kept this information from us. Family was important, irreplaceable. Even when they no longer breathed, they still lived in us and once again I thought of Emmett. But as irritated as I might have been, I couldn’t stand to see Esme upset, and so I brought up the one thing I knew would get her mind off of her sister.
“Carlisle asked me to help him with Bella, and I agreed.”
She continued to scrub the pan, not yet distracted. “Good, good. I’m glad you’re able to help. Does he have a plan yet?”
Boy, I was going to enjoy this.
“Yep.”
My tone of voice must’ve given me away, because she stopped scrubbing and cocked an eyebrow at me. “Well?”
“He put a hit out on me.”
*Clank*
“CARLISLE!”
*****
If I said that the scene that followed wasn’t entertaining, I’d be lying.
In fact, I’m fairly certain that the neighbors, who were not close to us in any way, shape or form, could likely hear Esme ripping into her unsuspecting husband for the contract killing he took out on his nephew. Phrases like “How could you?!” and “What if she actually succeeds?!” could be heard clearly from the far edge of the pool patio, through the safety glass of the sliding door. I stood facing the ocean, smiling to myself as Carlisle did what he could to make the situation seem less dangerous to Esme. It shouldn’t be too difficult, as it probably was not that dangerous at all. We’d get Bella here, explain to her what really happened, and then she’d be one of us, no worries.
This was going to be a piece of cake.
BPOV
It was pretty blissful to be able to complete a flight without the added ceremony of losing the contents of my stomach.
The flight staff had remained true to their word, allowing me my privacy on the plane as we travelled. Jane periodically popped in to check on me, but otherwise I was allowed to pass the time as I saw fit. I finished going through the dossier that Charlie had provided me with, carefully committing the information to memory. As it turned out, the immediate Cullen/Masen clan was extensive, and I wasn’t entirely sure how I was going to manage to take out so many of them all together.
Emmett Cullen’s portion of the file had been very brief, no more than just a page, no photograph, outlining his background and the circumstances behind his death in Iraq. The official cause of death was cited as ‘enemy fire’, but after Charlie’s cryptic comment in his office I didn’t believe that for one hot second.
Edward Masen still bothered me, as well. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I could kill him – I knew I could do that. But I was having difficulty remaining detached from him, for lack of a better word. The images of him, especially the one of him with the little black-haired girl, were oddly compelling. They ignited the one ache within me that I had never wanted to feel again - jealousy. I didn’t like it. Romance and love were not something that I ever expected to experience in my lifetime, especially given my profession, so what did it matter that someone else had found it?
Eventually, I fell asleep on the couch. When I woke, the endless dark waters of the Atlantic had given way to land, and to our south I could see the bright lights of a moderately-sized city. I looked at the map on the screen and saw that we were passing just north of Cincinnati, Ohio. This was the farthest inland I had ever been in the US, and there were still about four hours left in our flight. I checked my watch and compared it to the time displayed on screen. We had left Exeter at about nine tonight, and according to my watch it was now five in the morning. I glanced back at the screen and noted that Eastern time was five hours behind Greenwich, but according to the arrival time displayed, Pacific time was three hours further behind. Rolling around the math in my head, I concluded that in reality, my twelve hour flight would actually take about four. I understood Charlie’s reasons for wanting to get me to San Diego so quickly, but I couldn’t even begin to guess why Carlisle Cullen would be in such a huge hurry.
*****
The small airport in La Jolla, California, was almost invisible at night. If it weren’t for the lit control tower and the twin strips of runway lighting, I would have never seen it. Our landing was uneventful, and infinitely better than the almost-crash-landing one routinely experiences in a C-130. The plane taxied smoothly over toward an empty hangar, and Jane reappeared as the airport crew outside began preparing for us to unload. She looked about as fresh and put together as she did when I first saw her twelve hours ago, and it made me feel like ten kinds of disgusting. She smiled and bid me a good morning in her chipper sex-voice, and I nodded in her general direction as I focused on retrieving my tote and medicine case.
As I stepped off the plane, I noted that the sleek black Mercedes idling at the edge of the tarmac was exactly what I had been expecting to see.
The man who came with it was not.
Apparently, Carlisle Cullen himself decided to come and get me at whatever unholy hour it happened to be, and it surprised me. I was a contractor; a faceless name or a nameless face, whichever suited my employer best at the time. Most preferred the faceless name option – the harder it was to pick me out of a line up, the better. Although, the day I ended up in a line up would be my last… my father would see to that.
Carlisle Cullen lounged against the hood of his car, one leg crossed carelessly over the other, arms folded, head down. He almost looked to be dozing, and I assumed he was until I was about ten feet away. His head immediately shot up and he had the look of one who was fully aware. I suppose that being a physician gave you enough practice that one might perfect the art of resting anywhere, at any time. His gaze was gently scrutinizing, as if he were trying to map and memorize the features of my face. Normally this would have made me beyond uncomfortable, for the obvious reasons, but in this moment I knew nothing more than the dissatisfaction that I would obviously not be as anonymous as I would like on this assignment.
I straightened myself up as much as possible, mentally pepping myself and held out my empty hand. “Isabella Swan.”
Contrary to the soft smile on the blonde man’s face, my hand was suddenly encased in a warm, steely grip. “Carlisle Cullen. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Isabella.” His free hand cupped my elbow and directed me toward the front passenger door of the car. I sat my case on the ground, in order to relieve myself of my tote so that I could properly stow them, and noticed out of the corner of my eye that Carlisle was eyeballing the shiny case with a look of thinly veiled disgust. I briefly wondered if he had some idea of what was in there. Doubtful. I could see Carlisle mentally shaking himself off as he moved to my right and opened the door for me.
“In you go, Isabella. I’ll brief you on the way home.” His use of the word ‘home’ surprised me – he couldn’t possible mean to take me to his home, could he? That would make things all too easy. As I pondered this new development, Carlisle exchanged words with the man who had loaded my things – Laurent, I think his name was – and then slid into the driver’s seat. Closing his own door, Carlisle slid down into his seat slightly. The relief that suddenly overcame the car was palpable, like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I imagined that was probably the case – no one was better at what I did than I was. I did not think he’d feel as much relief if he knew my hit list had been expanded, though.
He broke the silence as he put the car into gear. “I’m very pleased to have you with us. There are things we want to discuss with you that we really could not with your father. You understand.” He deferred his attention directly to me. It didn’t seem to bother him that his eyes were not on our surroundings, as we hit the highway and the pavement flew past us upwards of 90 miles per hour. Well, if he felt he knew what he was doing, then I wouldn’t say a word. I could walk away from just about anything. Just about.
“That’s not a problem, Carlisle. I am accustomed to my patrons remaining secretive.”
He snorted at that. “Patrons. Please, Isabella, don’t think of me as a patron.”
I smiled to myself. Not the time to tell him he’s actually a mark. “Well, what should I refer to you as? You hired me to complete a job. You’re my patron. My client. My- “
He laughed out loud now, a rich, melodic sound that was more genuine than anything I’d heard in years. “No, I think you can end right there. If you have to label me, I suppose ‘patron’ is better than most of the alternatives.” His attention returned to the road, and I allowed myself to relax a bit. I didn’t like that he was paying so much attention to me. I kept reminding myself that when I was finished here, the fact that he was personally familiar with me would be moot, but it was still… weird, I suppose. I froze when his right arm raised suddenly, then chided myself for reacting so suspiciously. We were in a car. He hired me to kill his nephew. He wasn’t going to off me before I could do the job. Although, he may have heard the news. Ugh. Fuck Charlie. This was way too complicated.
After finding a station he was happy with, he settled back into his seat and propped his left arm up on the door. I glanced sideways out of the corner of my eye and I could tell he looked sleepy. I decided that a little pre-game info might be helpful, not only for my side of things, but to help keep him awake enough to get us to our destination.
“So, Carlisle, tell me a little about Edward.”
