Secret Royalty

Chapter Twelve

Sorry for the loong update wait. My excuse? Depression and midterms. I'll try to update faster! Sorry! x_x

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Through the peephole, my eyes recognized a man. On his neck sat a phoenix tattoo and he had deadly grey eyes.

I knew at that point I had to calm myself down and open the door unless I wanted it smashed to pieces. I fidgeted with the necklace Jed gave me for Christmas, took five deep breaths, and unlocked the entry.

Without looking at him, I made my way over to my easel where I was still experimenting with the paints Jed had also given me. As I walked, my bare feet sensed where one strip of the hardwood floor would end, and where the other would begin.

I sat down on my old wooden stool placed near and picked up the dried brush. I could feel the man looking around the house at how it’d changed since his last visit. Though my hand was shaking, I continued my painting of a cardinal. I was having a difficult time with the wings, so I started there.

“Emilia!” the blonde bellowed. I did not flinch, for I was expecting him to yell sooner or later.

I took a reassuring breath and finished the feather I was working on before saying, “Yes, Sam? What do you need?”

My eyes focused on the barb I was repainting, making sure I did not drip the paint where it was not wanted.

“Who’s the guy with the brown hair?” Sam hollered jealously. It was midnight and if I had a landline, I would have dozens of calls I the morning from the elders in the neighborhood; but I only had my cell phone.

It didn’t seem he caught on at the bookstore just a few days ago. “Jed,” I replied almost uninterested.

“Who the fuck is he?” Sam’s grabbed around my neck. I continued with my easel peacefully.

I rolled my eyes and repeated my last word. “Jed.”

Sam lifted me off the stool and practically threw me on the couch. I made a point of leaving my brush behind before he did so.

He stared down at me while standing. “Is he your boyfriend?”

I peered at the ceiling, lips unmoving.

“You little bitch!” he cried, hitting my face harshly with his hand.

I had remembered then when he did that to me before, where I would simply sit there, eyes unmoving, face stoic of what happened seconds earlier, but that was before when I thought I loved him. I decided I needed to change my techniques.

I kicked him in the balls.

Sam cringed, allowing the perfect time to hit him in the face. I pushed his body the ground, his eyes shut like he was sucking on a lemon. I kicked his groin one final time and stood over him, not allowing another one of his fingers onto my skin.

After a few seconds, his eyes opened. “What the hell?” he spurted.

“Get out of my house. If I ever see your face or fucking tattoo anywhere, you will not be able to reproduce. You’re a lying, cheating bastard and I never should have allowed you into my life to begin with!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

My feet pushed rapidly into his sides until he stood. He wavered for a second. “Get the fuck out of my life, Peroxide,” I muttered, pushing him out the door. I kicked Sam in the gut, pushing him off of my porch and front steps. “Have fun with your life.” My lips forced the words wile my shaking hands slammed the door shut and locked the deadbolt- I was going to have to buy another soon.