I felt Jim shifting around then listened to his muffled exchange of words that came from the other side of the door. I heard him walk back in and get dressed, but continued to let him think I was asleep. After he walked out I laid there for a while before getting up and slipping on one of his shirts and going to the living room. I padded downstairs barefoot and froze when I rounded the corner into the living room.
“Sleep well, honey?” Jim asked, not looking at me, but at my twin instead. “Come, have a seat.”
I took his outstretched hand and took a seat on his lap. He placed one hand on the small of my back and let the other draw patterns on my bare thigh. I knew he was doing it out of spite toward my brother.
“Isn’t she gorgeous, Sherlock?” Jim taunted as I brushed aside my black curls.
“Nice bruising,” my twin said suddenly, causing my body to tense. I forgot about the incident from the night before and the inevitable bruising that would occur. I quickly moved my hair back into place and looked to Jim who was obviously irritated. I started to stand up to leave, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to his lap. He slapped me hard in front of my brother and his flatmate, making any dignity I had left disappear.
Without skipping a beat, Sherlock lunged forward from his seat and ripped me from Jim’s grasp. I looked up at my brother in total surprise. I hadn’t expected him to really care, at least not after I left him on the terms I had. He actually reminded me of the protective ‘older’ brother he used to be when we were younger.
“You’re showing your hand, Sherlock,” Jim said in a sing song voice as a smirk grew on his face. I frowned and tried to push away from my brother, but his grip only tightened. “Me, hurting your sister in front of you; you, playing the hero. It’s all very cliché, don’t you think? You’re becoming very sentimental lately and I blame John for that. But this makes it fun. I have multiple ways to burn you now. Go ahead and take her, Sherlock, but it’ll only make me hurt her more.
“And you!” Jim’s dark eyes seemed black as he stared at me. “I will break you. And don’t look at me like that; you know you were going to go with him as soon as he offered it. Go pack while the big boys talk.”
Sherlock let go of me and I dashed upstairs to grab my things. I hadn’t realized how bad I was shaking until I collapsed on the floor and saw my trembling hands. Once I managed to regain composure, I found a bag and stuffed everything I had into it.
I shrugged Jim’s shirt off and got dressed in a long sleeve, red shirt with lace on the shoulders, jeans, and black boots. I looked around the room to check for anything I missed and slowly made my way back down to the others. I stopped in the doorway and all eyes averted to me. Jim cleared his throat and the attention was his again.
“The ring,” he said simply. “Don’t think I’m going to stay engaged to you after all of this.”
“You...were engaged to Moriarty?” John asked dubiously.
“Don’t ask such stupid questions, John. She had the ring on yesterday when she was at our flat,” Sherlock half growled.
I ignored the conversation as I slipped the ring from my finger and walked to my ex-fiancé. He reached for my hand, but swiftly grabbed my wrist instead and snapped it like a twig. I let out a yelp of pain and Sherlock pointed a gun at Jim, Jim to John, and John rushed to my side to tend to my wrist. I’d have to remember to thank him later.
“We’re leaving, and you get to live for a little while longer,” Sherlock said as John started to lead me out of the room.
“Have fun, Sherlock,” Jim turned to walk away, then called over his shoulder, “Take care of her will you?”
***
The room was blindingly white and the T.V. created a low humming noise to break the silence. My wrist was throbbing despite the pain pills, and the black cast around it was beginning to itch horribly. When the nurses had asked what had happened I had lied and told them that I fell and tried to brace myself with my hand. John had left to meet up with his wife and Sherlock decided to stay with me. I guessed he trusted Moriarty as much as I had. Sherlock was standing by the window, impatiently tapping on the wall and shifting his weight. He let out an aggravated groan and collapsed in the chair beside me. The nurses had to do one more thing before I could go ‘home’ and they were taking forever to do it.
“You don’t have to stay around, y’know? I can take care of myself just fine.” I looked to my brother and he sighed.
“I don’t really have anything better to do and I don’t believe Moriarty would just drop this until next time; not with your recent change of relationship status.”
The silence returned when he finished his explanation and neither of us had anything to say. The quiet didn’t last long though because a man with salt and pepper hair had rushed in. His brown eyes darted back and forth between the two of us before he spoke.
“John told me you were in the hospital. I guess I misinterpreted,” he said, slightly out of breath. “I guess I got in a hurry for nothing.”
“You’re a detective, Lestrade, you should know to ask more questions before you get so worked up over things.” Sherlock rolled his eyes at the man.
“So, um, who’s this?” the detective asked, his chocolate eyes looking at me as he spoke. Their color reminded me of Jim, but they held nowhere near the amount of hatred I was used to.
“You really never told anyone about me?” I asked my brother and he shook his head. “Jayden Holmes, his twin sister,” I answered and gave a small smile as I nodded my head toward Sherlock.
“That’s not what I expected. Well, good to meet you. I’m D.I. Greg Lestrade.” He turned back to Sherlock and suddenly got serious. “I’ve got a case you might be interested in.”
“Go on, Sherlock. You’re bored, I’m safe, and he’s giving you a chance to show off. I’ll be fine,” I said as my brother looked at me before answering.
“You’re coming with us. If the nurses ask, we’ll just have Lestrade give an excuse.”
I didn’t argue as I got up and left with them. One nurse started to say something, but Lestrade showed off his badge and she backed off. We got into his black SUV and Sherlock took the back seat with me since there was a curly haired woman with dark skin already in the passenger seat.
“Hello, Freak. Get another one caught up in your mess?” she spoke with a sour tone as she looked from my brother to my wrist.
“So, who on the force are you having an affair with?” I asked boredly.
“Excuse me?” She looked annoyed and it made me grin on the inside.
“Men’s deodorant, an oversized shirt that obviously isn’t yours but does show that he has a lot to compensate for, and the state of the knees of your pants. Could just be a boyfriend, but not likely judging by the way you keep checking your phone at an angle or off to the side so no one can see your texts. Normally, anyone with nothing to hide would trust others around them not to infringe on their privacy, but obviously you have something to hide. Jayden Holmes, pleased to meet you. And know that if you call my twin ‘Freak’ again I will leave you laying on the ground crying for mercy.” I smiled wickedly and she glared at me while Sherlock looked kind of proud and Lestrade looked shocked.
“And you called me a show off,” Sherlock chuckled quietly.
I later found out that her name was Sally Donovan and, upon entering the crime scene, quickly discovered that her lover was some Anderson guy that was just as annoying. Neither of them took too kindly to me and I didn’t want them to. I stood back with Lestrade while Sherlock examined the body.
“The more I’m around you, the more obvious it becomes that you’re his sister. Smart, sarcastic, quick witted, and the looks are an obvious add on to that list,” Lestrade muttered, glancing down at me momentarily then back at the scene.
“We Holmes’s are very easy to figure out despite what Sherlock and Mycroft may say.” I shrugged.
“So, what happened to your wrist exactly?” he questioned and I avoided his gaze.
“I fell down some stairs at the flat earlier. I’m a bit of a clutz.”
“You’re lying,” he said flatly and I looked up at him. “I may not be Sherlock, but I am a detective and I can usually tell when people are lying to me.”
I sighed shakily, unsure of how to tell him. After a pause I spoke again, “I was in a bad relationship. I broke off the engagement and he decided breaking my wrist would be decent pay back, though I still expect more to come.”
“Why lie about that? You know, if you told me who he was, I could arrest him. Your wrist is obvious evidence.” He said sternly and I smiled to myself over his care.
“He’s not someone you want to mess with. And honestly-” I started, but was cut off by my brother.
“Jayden, come here.” I glared at him for his demanding tone. I shrugged it off though and stood beside him. “These marks on her arms, what are they?”
I looked at the body. It was a woman in about her late twenties with strawberry blonde hair and her skin was pale from death. Her make-up and hair looked absolutely perfect despite the fact that she had been murdered. It looked almost as if the killer had cleaned her up to showcase her. There were two puncture wounds on her neck, both looking shaky as if the killer wasn’t used to using a needle of any sort. Along both of her arms she had markings carved into her skin. I recognized the odd lettering right away. My body tensed up and my eyes shot to Sherlock who was watching me expectantly.
“You seem familiar with this. You know who the killer is, don’t you?” he said too casually for how I felt inside.
The way the victim had been murdered had been my m.o. from my older days.