Poisoned Blood ↠ Edward Cullen ✓

01 ; flinch

The first lesson Caden Heims ever learned was how not to flinch.

When his mother first struck him in the face during one of her episodes, he had taken the hit against his cheekbone in way his deadbeat father would've said was "like a man" - even though Caden had only been eight at the time. When his father shoved him into the stovetop, making his palm fall against the orange burner, Caden barely let out a wince at the feeling of his skin sizzling off. When his father's casket was lowered into the ground after a fatal gunshot wound from stealing from the wrong people in their neighborhood, Caden didn't even cry. When he watched his mother get walked to the heavily guarded truck that would lead her to the local asylum, Caden didn't fight the guards to let her go.

It was his Aunt Helena's hand falling into his shoulder that made him flinch away. The simple action of non-violent contact was the one thing that had him burying the first lesson he'd ever learned underneath the ground along with his sperm donor.

"Caden," She had said, dark eyes filled with nothing. "You know my door is always open for family."

She said the word family so easily, Caden had almost forgotten that when she'd given him the offer, it was only the second time they'd ever met each other. Caden and his mother had stayed clear of anything having to do with his father's side of the family - and for a good reason. If the jagged scar on his Aunt's cheekbone was anything to go by, anyone with Heims as their last name was nothing but trouble.

"The floors aren't going to sweep themselves, Heims. Quit daydreaming and get back to work,"

Caden ignored the jab from his boss, his arm working on swishing the damp mop around the floor. His work shoes screeched lightly against the tile floor of the community center where he worked, before being washed away by another sweep of the mop's wet tassels.

A few people walked around him, all of them talking amongst themselves. Ignoring the boy their age that was working a job someone almost twice his age should've been doing. Mopping floors was meant for those who were already on their way to a mid-life crisis. Who had a few kids already, a spouse, and not a single degree in anything - high school or college.

Caden was a break in the stereotype. Not being anywhere close to forty, a father, a husband, or a high school drop-out. However, when it came down to college, it was debatable. He had struggled throughout high school, working odd jobs and some illegal ones, in order to keep the small apartment he and his mother had shared before she was detained.

His mother, Anya, had saved a bit for him before going away. Though it was some, it wasn't enough to keep Caden going for long without her. Which was why he worked many hours after a full day of high school, where he occupied a place in the junior class.

Normally Dale, his boss, didn't hire people like Caden. Boys with troubled backgrounds and even more troubled financial states, but something had convinced the man to make an exception. Which, Caden was still trying to figure out how to repay him for since he was leaving for Washington in a few hours.

Colorado had given Caden nothing but memories. Both bad and good. Though, he loved the place as much as he hated it, he had to admit that living alone was no longer an option. Which was why he had asked his Aunt if he could live with her until he could accumulate more money for his future.

Despite the surprise in her voice, she had agreed. Knowing that someone like Caden, who never asked for favors from anyone, was swallowing his pride just this once.

As 5 o'clock rolled around, Caden placed the mop back into the water and moved himself towards the storage closet. He squeezed out the broom, before placing it back into the closet. On the inside of the door, was a time sheet. Caden clocked out, trying to push down the fear that this would be his last time doing so.