CHAPTER 15: Get Your Own Orchid
The thing with heat pumps, is they could be easily hacked, changing the temperatures to a level way above or below tolerance levels, wasn't difficult and neither was inserting a filter of liquid chloroform. The second he turned it on, he inhaled the toxins that will merely knock him out for a few hours. The antidote to block the possible inhalation of the toxin, unless hydrocyanic acid has also been ingested, though it's not considered medically appropriate, only a small amount for just a split second, stops the ability of chloroform to being susceptible to the human system.
He's quiet, snoring lightly against his couch. I use the digits he'd used to open the desk, an unknown set of digits, before a four-pin-code, and the desk opens. I flick the heat pump off.
Empty.
It was fucking empty.
I clench my jaw, standing up in annoyance, I use dentist gloves, moving around the edges and corners and kinks in the desk that looked like a magic box. I furrow my eyebrows, knocking lightly against the thin wood, no extra room. I huff in annoyance, moving around, towards the drawers along the glossy wood.
Nothing but boring stationary items and old-fashioned ornaments that I couldn't even begin to understand. I glance over towards his desk, his snoring, filtering the air in the otherwise silent atmosphere. I strut over towards his desk, opening the screen, before looking towards the drawers.
Files of timetables, sheets, and unnecessary paperwork. Though what I've come to understand, is some people-bold people will place the most important of objects, information, and special tools, in the most unexpected, looked-over places.
This is where I found a decrypted email in the lower cabinet of files five to six years ago. I open the envelope, skimming the sides, I open the crisp piece of paper, my mind reeling in a whirlwind of thoughts, a police report.
'To whom it may concern,
There is something wrong with the PBI Academy in Pearson, London. The Detective of the local police department, Detective Johnson, told me my best friend must have fallen from the cliffs on top of One Tree hill, just above the Academy. I spoke with him and Principal Jewel, along with Professor Forthright...they were all so reassuring, so sickening...they thought I was merely a paranoid, stressed-out student. Something happened to Corinne. She wasn't crazy, or psychotic-like they had said. Professor Forthright is wrong. He didn't help her. No one here can be trusted.
~Viviane Calore
Local Police Department, Head Manager, Ryan Laurence.
4589 BayLand Point, Claremont Drive,
London, UK.
I furrow my eyebrows, it seems I have more research required to do as I glance up, thankfully he was still asleep on the couch, I turn towards his desktop, flicking it on, I open the screen and wait as it uploads. I scan the room for any possible open cameras on my phone as the screen updates and loads to open. When it does, the lock screen pops open, I plug in my USB, opening the algorithm as it identifies his password.
Because I'm falling in love with you.
I look over to Professor Forthright in utter disgust. He was a bastard. One I will take down. Telling me he was in love with me? I doubt the chloroform was meant to rip any truths from his lips, he was more delusional than I thought. Considering, I will be the one making sure he's in handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit in the end.
He's a manipulator of the mind, everyone's but mine that is. His stunts weren't going unnoticed and now, it's time he pays for the prices of his choices. His disgusting, vile choices.
The screen unlocks, and I hurriedly move to files, searching through names, where I open a section of the Police Department and find the jackpot; Stella Blake, Bella Cruise, Charlize Northern, and Corinne Delia.
All with their files.
He must have hacked into their network, retrieved what they had, and perhaps even tampered with evidence, but I wasn't sure. He could have done all that, or he could have had access, meaning Detective Johnson was close with him.
A crooked cop.
Or a dumb one.
Professor Forthright was already known for his manipulations, maybe he did the same to Detective Johnson; maybe he manipulated Johnson into giving up the information to save his own hide. I almost didn't understand it; why do any of this, the vile inhuman gameplay with business blondes in this Academy? I download the files, sitting up when I heard him groan lightly. I remove the small vile of chloroform in the filter of the heat pump.
Once the files are complete, I remove them and step away from his desk, and to stand in front of him, he grunts lightly, I stand in front of the side of the couch, with my eyes narrowed his way, I slip my hands into the sleeves of my coat.
I give him a raised eyebrow as confused black eyes look up at me, I tilt my head, "You fell asleep mid-way between my exam?" I lie.
He snaps himself up, groaning again, before he holds his head in one hand, "I don't remember being that tired." He mutters, looking around before he looks back up at me. He squints.
"Did I say anything...weird?" He asks, almost too hesitantly. The last thing I need is him remembering the crap he spewed not four hours ago.
I raise an eyebrow, "No, I did most of the talking and then found you asleep. Have you noticed just how unprofessional you can be in a workplace?" I ask incredulously, I step towards his desk and unlock the front door.
My heels click against the carpet, as he dizzily stands from the couch, "We'll have to reschedule then. I do apologize." I hold in a smile, moving towards the door.
I open it, just as he says to me, "You gave Principal Jewel a...certain look, before? What was that?"
I narrow my eyes at the white wall on the other side, I glance over my shoulder, "I think you're reading into something that doesn't exist. Excuse me." I mutter, turning back down the hall when late afternoon arrives. I move towards the cafeteria, where I notice the Elite sitting next to the couches. Lorraine gives me an exasperated look.
"You spent three hours with him in there?!" She says.
I smirk, Edmund stands, buttoning his jacket as he steps towards me, raising an eyebrow down at me, "Don't you look suspicious, lemon?" He questions in slight amusement.
I tilt my head to the side, "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." I was on a rollercoaster of sarcasm today.
He narrows his eyes, "You obscured the information from me, lemon. Any man would have wanted to know." He mutters.
I glance over at the empty tables and sigh in defeat, "Yes, I know. You're not the only male who has asked, and the one I speak of has gotten a little too close for my liking. He's getting careless."
"It would be safer if you told me what you're looking into?" He says to me, lowly with a warning tone.
I turn back to his enlightened silvery eyes, his pursed lips, "You saw that message, Edmund. I need you in the background for now, or another team member gets hurt. It's obvious, though that you need to let off some steam, and I need target practice." I suggest.
He raises another eyebrow, "You want to train...with me?"
I giggle, turning towards the door, "You can so 'No'." I say over my shoulder.
I hand intertwines with mine, and his fingers tighten, "Hell no. I should've suggested this awhile ago." He exclaims almost, looking over his shoulder to see the others following, in confusion but interest.
We walk closely down the polished white walls of the hallway when he leans down, "Does this mean you're no longer mad at me?" He asks me. A whispered but gentle tone as he squeezes my hand momentarily.
I tilt my head with a bright smile as I look up at his unfazed features, "This means I get to finally punch you, dear Edmund. That might make me a little less angry." I mutter, dropping the smile. He twirls me, loosening his hand around mine, so his arm moves around my hip.
"I guess I'll have to convince you to change your mind." He whispers close to my ear, a coy smirk on his lips when I tilt away, only his hand is wrapped around my waist.
I purse my lips, "Stubborn prat." He pinches my side in retaliation, and just the suddenness of it has me screeching and trying to pull away as I step towards my door; a twitch of my lips has him grinning down at me. He crosses his arms, watching me. I shake my head at him.
Unlocking the door, I open it and flick the light on, a queasy feeling shooting through my stomach, but I reign it in, cooling and masking my expression until all concern is wiped from my features.
The others file in as I move to my room, I turn to Edmund, who steps in behind me, and I nudge a light punch in his arm, "Stay here a moment."
He tilts his head, "I've already seen your room and what you look like in a chemise, lemon."
I raise an eyebrow, "You're getting a kick in the jewels for casually saying that. Just wait out here." I tell him, opening and closing the door before I look to my bed, that's covered in fucking red rose petals and a note in the middle.
I lock my door and strut over to the note, I rip open the black and silver seams before opening the valentines card, the date was scheduled for next week, I rip open the card, finding another opening, "To my beloved Melanie. I'm sorry about where we left off, I didn't mean to hurt you before, but I didn't like it when you pushed me away. The feel of you against my fingers is a memorizing experience I want more of. I'm counting down the nights until I have you completely in my arms. You know what you mean to me. Love...Anonymously."
My heart clambered in my throat as tenseness seethed in my tendons, and even my bones felt heavy as I held the urge to scream when I reached over for the petals and threw each one in my desk-side bin. Disgust couldn't even begin to describe what I was feeling. Bile sticks in my throat and anger in my eyes as I stand on my desk, dropping my bag down and reaching for one of the cameras, I click it open to see nothing inside, the camera lens was removed, and the drive was destroyed. Stressing to the max, I move towards my other cameras, checking them; everything was cut.
I swallow, swiping in my emergency codes, I scan the room, seeing the prints that were left and using my hidden nano detectors to scour age through what was taken and looked at. I lock every device in the safe under a hidden door of the cupboard, grabbing my things, I rip the card in two and turn towards the door.
I pause and take six deep breaths, I need to pull up my game.
The gym looked neglected; after changing quickly before the others, I moved towards the room and sat down on the middle mat. Closing my eyes, I used a few readying yoga techniques to stretch as many muscles as possible. I was in a midnight sports bra and shorts, and the heat pump in the room was on, so I wasn't worried about the cold.
Only a choking sound resonates behind me. My eyes remain clothed as harsh steps led to my position, "Put on a shirt, please, lemon." He orders, I take a long exhale.
"Even if you were my boyfriend, Edmund, you still won't have the option of telling me what to do. I usually train, wearing this." I mutter, moving my hands down with my palms glued together.
"In public?" He snaps.
BANG!
I open my eyes, and in one quick movement, his half-naked form jolts as his chiseled back ring a smack along the mat, I stand back up slowly, after swiping his feet out from under him. He holds in the apparent urge to grunt as he gives me a look sided between disbelief and an impressed expression.
His biceps land on full display, and I do take a good look at his chest. I've only ever seen him in suits with long coats. He looks more naked than ever, except he wears long black trousers. He had a swagger to his burly form, all male. For an entrepreneur in oil shipping and manufacturing, he held a charismatic touch, and knew I saw that against my eyes trailing down his chest.
I blink, "You've been hiding that this entire time?" Words began spurting out before I had the chance to think of even process what I said, and instead of smirking, grinning, or teasing, he swallows with tinted pink in his cheeks as he roughly comes to a stand.
He folds his arms over his pale chest, "I-I forgot my shirt, and no one else has a spare." He says, almost embarrassed as he hides his pecks. His biceps flex and ripple each time he tenses under my eyes.
I raise an eyebrow, blinking twice, shaking my head as I look back up into his eyes. I give him a blank look, while inside, my eyes just want to dart right back down, "Alright..." I trail off, turning towards Lorraine, who scoffs at me with wiggly eyebrows.
Don't drench yourself in red.
Don't do it.
He's too good-looking, Melanie. He has strength, robust strength in those muscles.
I roll my eyes. Yes, I should just let him hug me more often with a body like that. I'll be far too distracted to want to fight him instead of pouncing on him. Lorraine was right in her description of him in our first encounter, he may have been rude, cold, and dark but I wasn't dissimilar.
He had the body that almost brought me to my knees; as embarrassing as it is to even admit this in my head but every corner, dip, and sharp curve, my pencil could shamelessly trace in every ounce it could get. I take a deep breath, seeing his chest was making me this internally flustered, I can see why he only now introduces me to such...features. I always knew he was muscular but, the man put the bar up high with just the way he looked now. I don't even think he noticed just how distracted I was by him during my stretches as he sat with the others in his own exercises.
Lorraine sat in front of me, wearing similar attires, except she wore black tights instead of shorts. Lorraine was slim, but she didn't bother forming abs; mine did during Grandpa Stevens' training. Which was placed on pause just a few months back, when he decidedly retired but remained close to Mom, and his wife, Lorelei. A woman he'd only met three years ago, she happened to be in the same forces too...which is probably what drew him to her.
Jenkins and Dion almost had heart attacks when he informed the family he was marrying her.
I shake my head with a smile, remembering those times, "You know, even during high school, you never found even one good-looking guy interesting. Edmund takes his shirt off, turning you into your own romance story." She whispers with a smile, biting her lip to hold her laugh, I flip into a hand-stand and straight, sucking my stomach in.
"He holds better qualities than any other male I've seen," I mutter.
"You can say that again." She says.
I grunt, "Get your own male, Lorraine."
Silence, before-
She topples in laughter, and I lose my concentration, flipping back up into a stand, watching her drop onto her back with a careless whack, "Oh my god. You're possessive."
I blanch, "Possessive of what?" I shriek at the familiar husky tone of Edmund's blank voice, asking from a metre beside me, Lorraine barrels more in laughter.
I give him a look of indifference, "Orchids. I'm greatly possessive of orchids."
Iris raises an eyebrow, "You're possessive over...a species of flower?" I blink; what was I supposed to say? I'm developing feelings over Edmund, who merely gave me his shirtless view, and, like a slap of reality, I'm possessive over him.
Yeah, like that would go down well.
I shove Lorraine's shoulder to force her back onto the mat, "Yes, they mean a great deal to me." I feel like I've earned a pat on the back for the encountering series of seriousness I have maintained during this particular conversation.
Lorraine sits up, "Right, you fantasize over every curve, bend, dip, and robust petal on the flower, Melanie."
I snap my head at her and rip her a new one, "You keep studying it, and I'll haul your butt across the mat with a few new bruises, got it?"
She puffs, "Oh, hush. The flower is all yours, but you can't stop me from seeing it, especially not now." She teases. Wiggling her eyebrows but only looking into my amethyst island eyes, I turn away, glancing over at the Elite, who give us the strangest of looks and raised eyebrows.
I furrow my eyebrows and turn to Lorraine, "I will enforce your newly developed visual impairment...do I make myself clear now?" I say lowly.
She giggles, slapping her hands over her mouth, "Damn. This is too good, way too good." She slaps her hands on the mat, like a child in the water, who takes entertainment with each tidal slap, acquiring rippled rings afterward, except she earns it in sound waves.
I blink, "Fine then. You're my first opponent."
"Fuck no. I've seen you with Marvin. You don't hold back on anyone." She flails her hands in the air like a demented octopus, I wasn't in the middle for protests, and she needed a good whack. Just to be put in place, I don't shuffle or potter around like the delicate orchid flower I held dear to my heart. At this moment, I did refer to the flower, not the other...specimen watching the exchange between Lorraine and me.
"I'm not taking 'No' for an answer. If you can talk the talk, you will walk the walk." I threaten.
She blinks, "That's not fair."
I tilt my head, "You chose your words."
"Over a flower?" Lyndon blurts out, flabbergasted.
I snap my head towards him, a glare in my eyes, "A newly developed one that she's still...assessing." Lorraine says cheekily.
"That is it." I snap at her. She rolls backward on the balls of her feet and straightens to hold her fists out.
She grins at me, "This is absolutely gold."
I blink thrice, "I'd zip it if I were you."
She shrugs, still with her fists and ready, "Your flower is yours."
I click my fingers to emphasize my meaning, "You're still going down."
"Do we stop them?" Erik wonders logically.
Lyndon coughs, "I'm still trying to figure out why she's supposedly possessive...over a freaking flower? I don't get it."
Talon folds his hands in his pockets, shaking his head in my peripheral vision, "I don't think we're supposed to get it, Lyndon."
Iris scrunches her face in the background, "I'm still trying to understand."
Edmund folds his arms over his chest, staring directly at me or at my sense of already strategic footing, "Orchid is her favourite flower; people are naturally possessive over their most favourite of things."
Erik shrugs, "I think we have to read into this like one would reading a novel. This isn't black and white, Edmund but...I'm still confused." He says; just as Lorraine initiates the first punch, I twirl her around, capturing her wrist and kicking out her shins as I use her arm to choke her.
Instead, she still smiles, I tighten, and she coughs, "Alright, already. You...proved your point." She grunts out, I drop her to the mat.
"Do I look like I'm done?" I ask incredulously.
"Bang on your chest, why don't you, Miss King Kong?" She coughs out. I give her a stern look.
"You've always had such a big mouth," I tell her, and she gasps, feigning offense as Iris' eyebrows are the first to go right up into her hairline.
Lorraine smirks, "This feels like money." She makes the correct dollar sign.
I twirl to the floor and kick her legs out from under her. I raise an eyebrow at her moaning form, "How does it feel now?"
She rolls her eyes, "You've claimed your territory. I was merely complimenting it." She shrugs.
I hold my head in one hand, "Compliment your own territory." I mutter in annoyance.
She gives me a whining look, "It changes a lot."
I blink, "Not recently."
She gasps, "Damnit, how did you find out?" She says, grumpily, standing in her position and folding arms over her chest.
I give her a pointed look, "I may be preoccupied, but I am not blind."
"Preoccupied with your orchid?" She emphasizes the 'your' part, which I don't complain or object to. I need a good quality rest after this, but I know I'll have to be working on my internal security.
I blink, "Amongst other things. Were you trying to get a rise out of me?" I ask her.
She shrugs nonchalantly, "Amongst other things, King Kong."
I fold my arms, tilt my head and jolt out one hip, "My knives will need a moving target." I threaten, yet again.
She pouts, "No way, been there, done that. I need some water."
I narrow my eyes, "Make sure it's pure." I call out to her. She merely waves me off. Swaying as she walks away, probably with a big bloody grin.
I turn back to the elite, who stand with analyzing expressions and tense, folded arms, "Edmund, it's your turn."