When we arrive at some fancy, expensive mansion that looks identical to Jim's, I climb clumsily out of the car and stretch. Jim snaps at me to not do that because it doesn't look 'ladylike'. I snap back at him that neither does the blood on my back, but he's not complaining about that. He just scowls and drags me through the doors by the arm.
"Is this another mansion of yours or something," I ask as he walks through the hallways I would've gotten lost in by now.
"Yep. I own a lot of mansions."
"Oh." We stop in front of a wood and ornately carved door. Jim smooths down his suit before he opens the door and walks in. Everyone looks up and the conversation stops abruptly. Jim waves to everyone, giving them a charming smile I've labelled 'the charming smile of death'. They all cheer back and I see a few women in the back swoon, until Jim pulls me forward next to him and kisses my cheek. They scowl at me after that. I wave timidly and the conversations resume as Jim leads me into the large ballroom. Instantly, people rush forward to say hello and wish Jim a happy birthday. They ignore me for the most part, which I have no problem with.
"Hello, Mr. Moriarty, happy birthday," a woman with a heavy Irish accent says when she walks up to Jim. He genuinely smiles, instead of the fake smile he's given everyone else since we arrived.
"Thank you, Miss Moriarty." She playfully smacks his chest.
"Just stick with Janine, Jimmy." He pulls her into a tight hug.
"It's been forever."
"If you came back for Christmas this year, you wouldn't've missed me so much."
"I couldn't leave Adalia with Seb for Christmas, that would be awful. She can be very persuasive, you see, and I might've come back to find that she was no longer there."
"Adalia?"
"That's this gorgeous young lady who's accompanying me tonight." Janine turns to look at me and I freeze, wide eyed, in the middle of attempting to cram a whole cream puff in my mouth. Jim just closes his eyes.
"She's usually more well-behaved than this." I close my mouth and try to swallow the cream puff as fast as I can, resulting in me choking on it while Jim just stares at me with exasperation. I finally manage to swallow it, face flushed red from embarrassment and lack of oxygen, to find Janine doubled over with laughter and Jim with his head in his hand.
"Uh, is it too late for a good first impression," I ask.
"Oh, dear, Jim always did pick the funny ones. I'm Janine Moriarty, Jim's sister."
"Hello. Adalia Shonley. Live-in… fuck, Jim, what was the rest of that?"
"Language, darling."
"Yeah, yeah. What was it that you called me that one time?"
"Janine, this is Adalia, my live-in ordinary person."
"Yeah! That's it!" Janine laughs at me again.
"Jimmy, this one is anything but ordinary."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment."
"So what happened to… Liv, was it?"
"She got on my last nerve and I killed her. She cried, it was so pathetic. Adalia wouldn't cry if I tried to kill her," Jim says proudly. I furrow my eyebrows.
"Liv?"
"My last one. You weren't the first." Janine doesn't seem to hear our conversation or is ignoring this revelation. How many other girls did Jim do this to?
"You wouldn't cry if Jimmy tried to kill you?"
"I cry daily because he won't. He's mean like that. He gets violent and shouts death threats at me, but I ask him to just shoot me through the head, and suddenly, he would never kill me. I don't get it."
"No one understands him, dear. Don't take it too hard."
"So, Janine, where's yours," Jim asks nonchalantly, as if he isn't talking about people who've been kidnapped.
"Getting me some punch."
"You just let him wander off?"
"He won't run. I know it." I cross my arms.
"You're talking about people, here. Not animals. People you've kidnapped and traumatized." Jim pats my head.
"Good for you, still having your morals after all this time. Now hush, darling, the grown ups are talking." My anger flares and I lose my temper.
"No, I won't hush! A year and a half I've endured your shit! At least treat me like a human being!" Jim's face darkens and he turns to face me. He leans in close, his face inches from mine.
"I said: Shut. Up. Would you like more stitches, Adalia, or is twenty seven enough? I've about had it with you and your disrespect for me. I gave you a home, I've shown you kindness, I've let you do a lot of things the others never got to. I haven't killed you yet. I could hurt you so much, I could hurt you so bad that you would think today was a good day. Watch what you say." My confidence is suddenly replaced with fear.
"S-Sorry." He lights up with excitement and hugs me.
"Aw, you remembered what I wanted for my birthday! Thank you, darling, it's a nice gift."
"Jimmy, get off of her. She's terrified." Jim lets go and rolls his eyes at Janine.
"Obviously, that was the point. Honestly, are we even related, Janine?" I tune out their bickering as I realize someone else has walked over. He looks to be about my age, dressed in an expensive looking suit, with short brown hair and green eyes. He's hot. Like, a ten. He smiles at me, a half smile, and I see something strangely familiar in his expression. I realize it's something I see when I look in the mirror, pain and sadness and desperation, desperate to get away from something. He doesn't seem to be listening to either of them. I put the pieces together. This is Janine's live-in ordinary person. I see a few scars on the back of his hand.
"Oh, Lucas, I didn't even notice you were back," Janine says, turning to talk to him.
"Um, they were out of punch."
"That's alright. Lucas, this is my brother, Jim."
"Hi." Jim looks from him to me then rolls his eyes.
"Really, Adalia?" I close my eyes and clench my jaw.
"Please don't."
"But, really, darling-"
"Jim, please don't. At least leave me with a little bit of dignity." He smiles and cups my cheek in his hand.
"Darling, I told you I'd make you pay."
"Please, you can do whatever you want when we get home, just please don't say it."
"But why wouldn't you want Lucas to know you had an instant crush on him?" My face turns the color of a ruby as I look down at the floor, avoiding Jim's smirk. My heart is somewhere inside my stomach, having turned as heavy as a rock.
"Darling, why are you blushing so badly?" I bite my lip, wanting this to be over.
"On the bright side, at least he didn't see you cramming a cream puff in your mouth and then choking on it." I blush even deeper until Lucas says something.
"You managed to fit a whole cream puff in your mouth? I've been trying to do that all night, and I can only get half." I look up and smile at him.
"It took me the whole time I've been here, but I managed to do it. The choking on the cream puff part wasn't planned, though."
"You should show me how to do that." I look up at Jim, who nods reluctantly and drops my hand. I run off with Lucas to the other side of the ballroom, both of us giggling.
"I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Adalia Shonley, nice to meet you."
"Lucas Conroe. Nice to meet you, too."
"I don't mean to pry, but did Janine kidnap you?"
"Yeah. I'm assuming Jim kidnapped you?"
"Yep."
"Oh. Is he as crazy as Janine?"
"Probably. How bad is Janine?"
"On a scale from one to ten, she's a seven."
"Jim too. Except… More like seven and a half. He likes physical evidence that he hurt me. He likes seeing me bleed and the bruises."
"What d'you mean?"
"Like this." I spin around so he can see my back, which is on display since the gown dips in a V all the way to my lower back. "He cut me and gave me stitches and all, but he refused to clean off the blood, because he said it could be a reminder of why I need to behave."
"That's awful. Janine gave me a pretty nasty cut on my arm this morning, but she wiped the blood off so my shirt wouldn't get ruined."
"If only Jim was that considerate," I say sarcastically and he nods solemnly before we both bust out laughing.
"This is going to sound weird… But I sort of care about Janine. I don't know why, but I do. She can be nice sometimes, and those are the times that stick in my head."
"I sort of feel like that about Jim, too. We probably just have Stockholm."
"Yeah, probably."
"I hate myself sometimes. I wake up and I just hate myself for caring about him. But I still do and I don't know why I'm telling this to someone I just met."
"No, I understand. I feel the same way most times." There's an awkward silence until Lucas breaks it with a solemn whisper.
"Can I let you in on a secret."
"Sure."
"I liked you the moment I saw you, too." I blush and smile at the floor.
"Really?"
"Yeah." He plucks two cream puffs off of the tray behind us and hands one to me.
"I was being serious. You must show me how to fit a whole cream puff in your mouth." Spend the next five minutes teaching him how to fit a whole cream puff in your mouth until he finally accomplishes it. We high five and jump up and down, causing some people to look strangely at us, which we ignore. Janine and Jim walk over to find us trying to chew the cream puffs, which Janine finds funnier than Jim.
"Darling, are you ladylike at all?"
"'Ope." He hands me a napkin.
"Spit it out." I reluctantly open my mouth and let the cream puff drop to the napkin, which Jim hands to the nearest waiter. I turn to see Janine telling Lucas to do the same and turn back around with an eye roll.
"Darling, they're going to play a slow song next. Come on." I bite my lip.
"I can't dance," I mumble. He raises an eyebrow at me before shrugging.
"Just wing it and try not to fall."
"But what if I do fall?"
"Then I'll catch you."
"What if we both fall?"
"Then no one but Janine will have enough nerve to laugh." I reluctantly allow him to drag me onto the dance floor. He smiles gently and holds out his hand.
"May I have this dance?"
"Don't have much choice, do I," I ask, placing my hand in his. He weaves his fingers with mine and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me in close. He holds our hands out to the side and I look up at him nervously.
"What do I do with my other hand," I mumble to his chest.
"Put it on my back," he mumbles into my hair. I do as he says and he nods approvingly.
"Alright, we're just going to move in circles, nice and simple. Step right… now forward… good, now left… and backwards. Do all of those steps again, nice and simple, right? Good, you're getting the hang of this."
"Thanks. Oh, sorry!" I accidentally step on his foot and he winces.
"It's alright, you're still learning. You're better at it than Liv, she stepped on my feet at least twelve times before she got the hang of it."
"How many were there," I blurt out. "The other girls, I mean. How many of them were there before me?"
"Ten. Ten other girls. I killed all of them after a few months. None of them made it past a year. But you, Adalia, are different. In a good way. You're strong and smart and funny and kind. And I can't figure it out for the life of me, but I don't want you dead. I want you happy and alive."
"Did you ever think about killing me?"
"Only once. I changed my mind immediately, decided you were too perfect to kill."
"Would you ever kill me?"
"I honestly don't know." The song ends and Jim attempts to lead me off the dance floor, but I lean into him, a silent plea for one more dance. He smiles and resumes the simple circles as another classical song plays in the background.
"Darling, I have a question for you, now."
"Okay."
"Are you afraid of me?"
"Terrified."
"Why are you dancing with me, then?" I clench my jaw. I don't like the honest answer, so I'll just have to lie.
"It's a party. That's what people do at parties. If you don't want me to, I'll stop."
"I want you to go dance with Lucas. You obviously both like each other, you're young, and I've taken too much from you already. I refuse to take away the possibility of a relationship with him." He drops my hand and nudges me gently. I rush off towards Lucas with child-like giddiness.
"Wanna dance?"
"I'd love to." We rush out onto the dance floor just as a faster, more upbeat song comes on. We smile at each other and start dancing like that one weird uncle I used to have before he went M.I.A. in Afghanistan. Jim and Janine come over when we're on about our fifth song, both laughing hysterically.
"Neither of you can dance. We just thought you should know that," Jim says through his laughter. I stick my tongue out at him and continue doing the sprinkler. My legs suddenly give out underneath me and I fall. Jim catches me and hastily picks me up, carrying me away from the dance floor and towards the drink table, picking up a water.
"Concussions and dancing apparently don't mix," I say, laughing weakly. He looks down at me with concern.
"This is my fault. Open your mouth, you should drink some water, it'll help." I open my mouth and let him tilt the glass back so a small stream of water lands in my dry mouth. I swallow and struggle to keep my eyes open.
"Tired," I mumble.
"Don't fall asleep, love."
"I'll try. It's loud in here."
"I know. I'm sorry, I shouldn't've lost my temper with you."
"Why did you throw that at me? I forget."
"I wanted you to be afraid of me again. Starting to regret it." He carries me down a few hallways.
"I like your hair, Jim. Did I ever tell you that? It's soft and fluffy and… Fluffy!"
"Darling-"
"Fluffy the three headed dog!"
"What?"
"Flute, Jim!"
"What?"
"Give me the flute!"
"What? Why do you need a flute?"
"No time for questions! Hogwarts is in danger!"
"Hog- Are you rambling about Harry Potter again?"
"The flute!"
"Hang on."
"No, too late. Fluffy mauled my face off, all because you wouldn't give me the flute. Nice job." He kicks open a door and lays me down gently on something. Something soft. He sits next to me on whatever it is and rests his hand lightly on my arm.
"What? Where are we?" I try to sit up, but he gently pushes me back down.
"We're in one of the bedrooms."
"Why?"
"Because you have a concussion and need to rest."
"I want nachos."
"Mhmm." I stand up before he can stop me and run. I make it to the front doors. This is it, the day I finally escape, finally-
"ADALIA!" Shit. Jim runs down the hallway after me as I struggle with the heavy door. I pull on it, trying as hard as I can. I turn around to see Jim has made it halfway down the hallway no, he's getting closer, he's right behind me. He puts a hand on my shoulder before I can open the door and I start crying, sobbing uncontrollably. He wraps his strong arms around me and rubs my back soothingly.
"I j-just want to g-get away from y-you."
"You know too much, love. I can't let that happen," he says softly. I cry even harder and he kisses the top of my head.
"Please don't cry, Adalia. Please. I like you, and I want you to be happy, but the one thing I can't do is let you go. You have to understand that."
"I'm scared. I just want to be normal and live a normal, boring life, but you ruined it for me, now I never know what is going to happen, and I don't like not knowing, and I don't like you, but I care about you and you make me happy and you terrify me at the same time." He hugs me tighter.
"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you, and I'm sorry I make you feel like this. But, on the bright side, today is the day you get to leave."
"What are you talking about?" Jim points out the small window on the door, where red and blue lights are flashing.
"Police are here." I look up at him in shock and disbelief and happiness.
"I… get to leave?"
"I don't think they're going to arrest you, unless you have some criminal record I don't know about."
"You're not going to try to run?" He shakes his head.
"Nope."
"Why not?" He shrugs.
"I'm going to make a deal. They arrest me, they can't take anyone else. All of the others walk free."
"You've never seemed like the type who believed in self sacrifice."
"What can I say? You've changed me for the better."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did. You're just that amazing. You, Adalia Shonley, are extraordinary." He kisses my forehead and rests his hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes, staring straight through me. The door bursts open and neither Jim nor I look away, but I can see there are a lot of people with guns, all aiming at Jim.
"James Moriarty, step away from that girl," the one in the front (probably the detective inspector) shouts. Jim raises his hand and gently strokes my hair, the last time he'll probably ever have the chance to do that. I close my eyes and let out a trembling breath. He tilts my chin up and I open my eyes to look at him. The DI keeps shouting for Jim to step away, but he doesn't listen and I tune him out, focusing on Jim. I think I might miss him, but the joy of being free is stronger right now. Jim kisses my forehead and mumbles in my ear.
"Be a good girl, Adalia. Daddy's got to leave for a bit. This is goodbye, darling."
"Well, then, goodbye, Jimmy Jim." He smiles softly and backs away, hands raised. Three officers rush forward to handcuff him and he snaps his eyes off of me.
"In exchange for coming peacefully, I want you to let the others go," he says loudly. Everyone turns to look at the DI, who I notice has gray hair, although he looks a but young to be gray. The DI, however, is looking at a curly haired man. I recognize him instantly.
"Sherlock!" The shout exits my mouth before I even realize it. A couple of officers, one brown and curly haired and one bearded with brown hair, look at me with confusion. I see Sherlock nod and mumble something to the DI, who looks reluctant but nods to everyone else. They all head out to arrest Jim, and Sherlock, John, and the detective inspector all walk over to me.
"Look, she's thirteen and she's in shock. Be careful," the gray haired man says to Sherlock, trying to keep me from hearing and failing. I cross my arms across my chest.
"I may be thirteen, but I am not in shock. Don't treat me like some pathetic six year old who can't take care of herself, thank you very much." Sherlock smiles and John nods.
"I see you still haven't changed a bit, Adalia. Still as rebellious as ever," John says with a half smile. The gray haired man looks confused.
"Hang on, you two know each other?"
"Yes, Greg. This is the girl from the pool, remember Sherlock and I told you about her? The one who was living with Moriarty against her will?"
"Oh, you're the girl who had enough nerve to curse out the world's only consulting criminal."
"No, I'm Adalia Shonley, and I refuse to be called 'the girl who' over and over again. Jim's been treating me like less than human for seventeen months now, I don't need more people joining in." I'm very defensive, but I'm also having trouble standing, so I don't think I can be blamed.
"Right, sorry. I'm Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade."
"Nice to meet you, Detective Inspector Lestrade. Nice to see you again, Sherlock and John. Is there an ambulance here?"
"No, why," Lestrade asks. I squeeze my eyes shut and lean on a wall as another wave of pain rolls through me.
"I have a mild concussion and I'm having trouble staying awake." John instantly rushes over, probably from years of medical instincts.
"How did you get a concussion?" I glance up at Sherlock and nod. He smiles and opens his mouth so he can spew out deductions.
"You were wearing heels earlier today, bruises on your arms and legs from being pushed, and Moriarty is a naturally violent man. He pushed you and you lost your balance in the heels, landing on your head."
"No, actually. He threw a glass at me and it hit my head. Please, someone call an ambulance or get me to a hospital or something, it hurts so bad."
"Yeah, I bet it does. Come on, Adalia." John leads me outside and calls an ambulance, which arrives shortly after. I sit in the back, letting them examine me and ask questions. As it turns out, Jim can not give stitches, and so I'll be in the hospital overnight. That, and they want to make sure the concussion isn't too serious. When John and Sherlock try to climb in the back of the ambulance with me, both of them feeling protective of me for some reason, the medics try to shoo them away.
"Sorry, only family," one of them says to Sherlock and John. I sigh. I don't have any family.
"Please, just let us in-" John argues.
"What's your relationship to her?"
"They're my dads," I blurt out. The medic steps aside.
"Sorry about that, misters."
"It's fine," John replies before sitting down next to me and holding my hand comfortingly. Sherlock raises an eyebrow, sending me a silent message: Your dads? I scowl back at him, sending my own silent message: Play along or I'll scream and get you kicked out. He plays the part of nervous father after that, asking questions and assuring me everything will be alright.
"Oh, God, she'll be alright, won't she? Don't worry, Ad, it'll be alright." He rubs my back as if trying to calm me down and I throw up on him. He scoots away and plays the part of disgusted detective after that.
"What made you throw up? Are you feeling nauseous," John asks me. I shake my head.
"That's what Jim used to do when he wanted me to calm down." I don't mention how it worked, too.
"So, do you guys make a habit of showing up and rescuing people a year after you meet them, or am I special?"
"We thought you were dead, actually," Sherlock tells me and I raise my eyebrows.
"Why would you think that?"
"I heard it somewhere. Not important." I shrug and close my eyes, letting everything sink in. I'm free. He's gone, he can't control or hurt me anymore. I'm free from him. I let out a small laugh purely from relief. Then it sinks in that I have no where to go, seeing as my family is dead. I'll have to go to a foster home or orphanage or something. I let out a sob at that as the words imbed themselves in my heart again, hurting and aching nearly as bad as they did the first time I found out they were dead.
"Adalia, why are you crying?"
"They're dead. There wasn't a lot of time to mourn them before, but I just realized they're dead and I have no where to go."
"I'm sure someone will adopt you or something," John reassures me. I nod weakly before I finally stop struggling and let my eyes slip closed.
Well, plot twist! Not even close to done with this story.