Mafia Princess

Chapter One-Hundred Thirteen

Twilight...not mine (sigh).

Chapter 113

I heaved my body off the desk and walked toward my father's office, feeling like a chastised child. When I walked into his office, I closed the door, slumping into the chair across from him. Carlisle was fairly even-keeled but he looked pissed off. "Yes?" I squeaked.

"How long have you been in the states?" he hissed out.

"Two weeks, but..."

"No 'buts!'" Carlisle yelled, slamming his hand down on the desk. "Edward, we needed to..."

My mind swam and I couldn't understand what Carlisle was saying. His voice and the pounding on the desk caused me to fall head-first into a flashback.

SLAM! "What time did I tell you to be home, Eddie?" my father screamed at me after he slammed my bedroom door shut.

"Four," my nine-year-old self whimpered. "It was just past four. Dad, I didn't mean..."

"Just past four? You waltzed in here at 4:15 like you owned the fucking place," he snarled, walking toward me. He picked me up by my shirt, causing the too-tight fabric to tear. It had been two years since I'd seen new clothes. He reared back, backhanding me with his left hand. His wedding ring split my lip. He hit me again, with his fist this time. "You need to walk faster, you little worthless fucker. Perhaps I should pull you from that good-for-nothing school. You're so dumb, Eddie. Can't even read or write."

"Dad, please don't," I sobbed as he continued assaulting me. However, his blows were on my belly, thighs and back. "I love school."

"Then, why do your grades suck?" he snarled, throwing me across my room. My shoulder hit the wall and I felt it pop out of joint. I curled up in a ball, trying to stay hidden behind my desk. My father didn't stop, though. He reached down, pulling on my injured arm. "Answer me!"

"Because I'm never there, Dad," I sniffled.

"Well, it looks like you're going to miss some more school," he sneered, pounding my head against the wall. Each bang, my vision grew narrower. When I slumped in his arms, he threw me on the bed and cuffed me to my bedframe. "You get to leave your room when understand that when I say that you need to be home by four. You be home by four. A week should do it. No food. No water. No bathroom. Nothing." He slammed my door shut and I faded out of consciousness.

When I came out of my flashback, I was on the ground of my dad's office. He was kneeling to the side of me. I got up and reached for my piece, still fuzzy as to why I was on the floor. "Edward, calm down," Carlisle said quietly. "You're safe."

"What happened?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"You started sweating and fell deep into a panic attack," Carlisle said, holding his hands up defensively. "I'm not going to hurt you. Put the gun down."

"Why was I on the floor?" I pressed, looking at him, wary of my adoptive father. I know he'd never hurt me but my senses were telling me to fight.

"Your eyes rolled back and you kind of slid down. I moved you away from the desk to stop you from hurting yourself," Carlisle said quietly, moving closer to me.

"Dad, stay back. I don't want to hurt you," I spat.

"I just want you to give me the gun," he whispered.

"No," I replied. I holstered it and gave him a tight smile. "I'm sorry, Carlisle."

"It's been a long time since you've had a flashback of that magnitude, Edward," he said, sitting back down. "I can probably guess that it's my fault with the slamming of the desk."

"No, it's all me," I sighed. I looked my adoptive father. "After this case, I think I'm done, Dad."

"Why?" he asked.

"This thing with Bella, it's real and I don't want to lose that," I whispered, sitting on the stuffy couch near the door. "That's if she forgives me for lying to her."

"Do you love her?" Carlisle questioned, tenting his hands.

"Yes. I do," I replied, staring into his eyes. "I want her to know me. The real me. Not Edward Masen, mafia thug wannabe or Special Agent Edward Cullen, wunderkind of the FBI. I want her to know Edward. For the most part, she does, but I hate lying to her about who I am and where I came from."

"What would you do, Edward?"

"Finish law school. Take the bar. Join a firm," I shrugged.

"But, you'll finish this out?" Carlisle confirmed.

"This case means too much to me, but we have to do something for Charlie. In all of my dealings with him, he's not that bad of a guy. Seriously, I've never seen him act violently toward anyone. Yes, he has a temper and he threatened Aro Volturi, but that's because he tried to blow up his daughter with a bomb. Hell, I was ready to find that little weasel and teach him a thing or two. But, I want him to feel the full extent of the law. You know?"

"I do know, but seeing your flashback worries me, Edward," he frowned. "Are they normally that bad?"

"No. They're not. That's another thing I want to do...I need help, Carlisle," I said. "My relationship with Bella has made me realize that I'm fucked up."

"PTSD does mess with your mind. The fact that you were subject to such abuse as a child; I can't even fathom," Carlisle exhaled. "How did you pass the psych exam?"

"It was a mask, Carlisle," I shrugged. "I knew I wanted to get in and how to do it. My IQ is through the roof, I know what the shrinks want to hear. Plus my off-the-charts entrance exam and you as my father, I was a shoe in. Now, I should have been honest in the psych eval. I could be getting help as opposed to being afraid of touch and having debilitating flashbacks and panic attacks." I looked at him, fearful that he was going to pull me. His brown eyes were sad and filled with remorse. "What?"

"In a way, this is my fault, Edward," he sighed, scrubbing his face. "I should have said something about your past. Because you were a minor, your case was sealed. Plus, your desire to be an agent made me so proud...I didn't want to stop you and have you resent me for taking away your dream." I nodded, understanding his viewpoint. "Now, tell me about Charlie. I trust your instincts. I want to see if we can work on getting him a reduced sentence, or something."

I smiled crookedly and we spent the rest of the afternoon going over the case, the evidence I had collected and the rumblings of Aro's 'something big.' Once I'm ready to leave, we had a solid case against Charlie del Cigno. Solid meaning that he'd only be charged with drugs possession with the intent to sell. We couldn't pin any of the weapons dealings back to him, nor any unsolved murders of Aro's goons or anyone else. Several of Charlie's men were looking at hefty prison terms, but that's if we could capture them.

That's a big 'if,' too.

A/N: Edward's on his way out of the FBI. Once he's done with this case, he's going back to law school, finishing his degree and taking the bar. And what about the flashback, huh? I know so many of you want to kick his father's ass. Me, too. He's a douche. You know the drill...please leave me some loving!! ;-)

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