TLS Special SNEAK PEEK Feature

 

The Lemonade Stand has spent so many years bringing you the best the Twilight fandom has to offer, and we are very excited to have the chance to offer you even MORE. We've watched stories grow and develop from first post through COMPLETE, and now we're lucky enough to share previews of the stories that will soon be your new addiction.

This week's feature is FlamingMaple, author of A Perfect Metaphor and A Good Bargain. She is giving us an excerpt of the first chapter of her new mafia fic, The Loose End. 

banner by FlamingMaple

The Loose End

by 

FlamingMaple

Summary: “Those who heal must do no harm” is a principle that Edward Cullen’s singular Boston crime syndicate attempts to uphold. Doing so while appeasing his dangerous Italian Mafia partners is already taxing, but when Edward is forced to silence a Harvard student to protect the business, his life becomes treacherously complicated. ExB. Genre: Romantic Thriller.

~oxXxo~

Chapter 1: Just a Girl

It was unexpectedly warm for an April night in Boston. Edward swept his gaze over the men quietly moving boxes. The first half of the shipment had been transferred from the warehouse, and he anticipated that the remainder would be loaded onto the truck without complication. They had just under fifteen minutes before the next scheduled patrol would drive by. Given that there was no legitimate business to be done in this particular place so late on a Saturday night, going undetected was key. He glanced back to the mouth of the alley where Felix and Demetri were trading places. Good. Everyone was on point. 

Taking a steadying breath, he released it slowly. Tonight was his first time being fully in charge of an acquisition. Although Edward knew he had his father’s complete and well-earned confidence, he also knew that any error on his part could not only have dire consequences for his entire family but also be disastrous for the operations they managed. There was a vast web of people who relied upon what they did, some whose very lives depended on what was riding in those discreetly appropriated boxes.

He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the reflection he cast in a nearby car window. Here in the alley, he looked every bit the part he played: tall, leanly muscled, and menacing in his dark pants and black leather jacket, the brightness of his coppery hair dulled by the gloom. On a well-lit street, wearing a suit, he would easily pass for the businessman he usually pretended to be.

He returned his attention to the loading operation in progress, so hyper-focused on the count he was taking that he barely noticed the first flicker of movement from a shadowy corner. The quiet gasp that followed made him stiffen and turn.

Even in the dark, the girl’s shape was visible: petite and slim, clad in a short, form-fitting dress and dainty shoes. Her eyes wide, she stared at Edward’s men, who were still carrying boxes from the building’s open back door to an unmarked moving truck.

Shit! How the hell had she gotten past the sentries?

He didn’t have time to ponder this, because she’d noticed him noticing her and then bolted. She was quick, but her escape was hindered by her clothing and footwear. 

Thank God, he thought as he easily gained on her, matching her stride so he could snatch her without too much force. He closed a hand around her upper arm, stopping her in her tracks.

When her loud shriek bounced off the brick walls, he clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She stomped the heel of her shoe down on the toe of his own, the move made ineffective by his steel-toed boots. His father had insisted everyone wear them on work assignments and Edward gave silent thanks for the man’s prudence. The girl’s body twisted in struggle, and Edward’s hold strained with it until he tightened his grip on her arm with one hand and captured her opposite wrist with the other. In a well-practiced move, he locked her right arm behind her back with his own, quickly covering her mouth again with his other hand. Holding her tightly against him, he spoke in a low, calm voice. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re not going anywhere until I know what you’re doing here.”

No response, at least not verbally. Her rigid muscles told him the fight wasn’t over yet, and he kept a firm grip, letting her continue to tire herself out with her squirming.

“I’m going to walk you to my car now,” he said quietly. “We need to talk.” 

She bit the heel of his hand, startling him enough that his grip slipped. She twisted away and was gone, her ridiculous footwear tapping on the asphalt as she headed towards the mouth of the alley.

Swearing at himself for underestimating her, he pursued.

~oxXxo~

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