His Sour Lemon #2.1

Part 12: Becoming Her Orchid

CHAPTER 12: Becoming Her Orchid

January 1st, 2029.
6:35 pm, Outskirts of New York City, America.
Creed Mansion.

I shouldn't have run. Running was a coward's answer. Running left marks on my pale, rough, callous skin and the slap of reality mixed with pain, torture and a man with no heart at all slamming down another rippling sting of agonising pain with the bloodied whip in his red hand and anger in his eyes, "What did I tell you?"

Do not run.

Return to your room.

Do not ever call me 'Dad' again.

"You were...hurting her." I breathe out, squeezing my eyes closed.

One hell hole to the next.

"She deserved it." He whispers, harshly as he slams the wooden handle of the straps on the royal floor carpet and turns to his desk as I lean against the back of the couch, my body quivering with the smell of metallic blood in the air. My blood.

His blood that ran through my veins.

"Get out and clean yourself up." He orders.

"I can't...see it."

"Get Charlize to do it then. You can blame her for this." He says to me, stoically.

"Why do you hate her?" I breathe out.

His silver eyes penetrate my weak ones...why do you hate me?

"I hear two questions in there, boy. Which one do you want answered?" He says, darkly.

Her.

Or me.

"Why do you hate her?" I ask him. Bravely.

He studies me, "Get changed. You're coming into work with me and getting a special job."

Death would have been the merciful choice.

******

March 26th, 2042.
3: 37 pm, London, United Kingdom.
Advanced Business Engagements Academy (Private Business Institution), Sylvan Lakeshore.

She tilts her head and her curls fall to the side, I watch it all in slow motion, a look I never, ever want to forget. It was that eye-catching, but more so it had such meaning behind the way she normally looks at me. Which was usually with hidden anger, slight hints of insecurity and the want to jump me.

Yeah, I was lying.

The woman had not yet looked at me like I was actually sex-on-a-stick, she wouldn't last long if she really did give me that look, "Don't you hold such suspicion, Edmund? And such jealousy from another man on the phone, who just so happens to be my twin brother. Bravo, Edmund. You cracked the case." Sarcasm at its finest and she was firing my way with rocket launchers and extra dynamite.

I narrow my eyes so as to not just outright blush at the fact she's using warm sarcasm with me, a flirtatious kind, which is another thing that doesn't come so easy with my Lemon, "You obscured the information from me, lemon. Any man would have wanted to know." I cover it up with my species. Which is apparently different from the female species, especially in this moment she gives me another look I don't understand.