by Olga Menson
"Just...just start by talking. Tell me why, when, how. All of it."
Rachel sighed and nodded. Then she spoke.
* *
I don't know when I realized that I wasn't normal. Or life wasn't normal. It was around the time I noticed you, I think. It was the first time I'd ever thought of a man as attractive. On my own, I mean.
My early childhood might have been better than yours, to be honest. Up until I was ten or so, it was just my mother and me. We were poor, but we lived all right. She worked hard, though. Sometimes she pulled eighty hours a week to make sure both of us made it. It was always just us. Then, your Father, Rudi, came into the picture. I don't know how things were arranged, but I think my mom loved me. It's hard to remember that sometimes. She sold me to your father. I hope that she at least made a lot of money for me.
I was taught to love your father. Trained. I know that now. Just like a dog with treats when I did well and pain when I didn't. And every weekend or two, he'd come and say hi to me and ask me how my studies were going, and he was just the sweetest person in the world. He'd take me places, you know. He liked to show me pictures of you and Isa and told me how I'd protect you both one day.
It sounds stupid now, but I took the whole thing very seriously. My teachers were serious in any case. I got a new one every few months. My tutors for usual stuff like Math and English stayed the same. I'd get up, work out with a physical trainer, learn regular-people stuff until lunch. Then afterward, there'd be some ex-military type to teach me how to fight and protect people.
I can see it in your eyes, Reuben. You want me to move it along. I have to start this far back, though, because this was when it started going wrong. Before I even met you. Let's see...I would have been about sixteen, so two years before we met. I was doing well, and I knew it. I was in great shape, could fight, spot threats, and was learning how to be a proper defensive sniper. Your father was clearly quite happy with my progress, so he did something that he'd never done before, he took me away for a whole weekend.
Sure, I left the little compound in the country fairly regularly. I got to see movies, I even went to events with other "homeschooled" kids. I was told that I was never to tell anyone what I was learning besides school stuff and that I was special.
That's what every kid wants to be, right? Special and loved.
Anyway, your father took me out. He bought me a dress, a real one. It had to cost a thousand dollars, easy. It was black and made me look...well, I thought I looked beautiful for the first time. He gave me a diamond necklace to go with it. I can't fit in the dress anymore, but I kept the jewelry.
That was the first time he took me to bed.
I'm sorry, Reuben. I never really wanted you to know. I'm sure you suspected, but...that's different than hearing it from me. I'll spare you the details. He took me, and he had me, and I was his.
After that, I sometimes got extra lessons at night. How to make a man feel good. How to be submissive. How to be a proper little slut for...anyone, really. At least he never shared me, I guess.
I was his mistress up until he died. It was pretty typical for the most part, I guess, beyond some basic kink and rough stuff.
He got worse after you left. Cruel. The dirty talk turned awful. He used to blame me for you leaving. He never said it, but he implied that you found out about him and me, and you were disgusted with me.
I believed him, too. If I hadn't, I would have just left and found you. I didn't care what your father would do to me anymore, not really. I just didn't think you'd want me.
So I stayed. And I got angry. I couldn't show it, of course. I realized for the first time how trapped I was. Everything was provided to me, but I had very little money of my own. I probably could have just asked your mother or Isa for help, but I wasn't sure. You were the only person I had been one-hundred percent sure of, and you were gone.
Not your fault. Anyway, I wanted to hurt your father. But...I still loved him. I still do. I know it's fucked up, Reuben. Please don't look at me like that. Please. I'm...I don't even...
Sorry. I don't typically lose control like that. But you know that. I was so torn up inside. I loved him and you and hated him for what he did to me and you for leaving. Mostly, though, I hated myself for driving you away. That's how I still saw it, then.
So when I was in New York running an errand for the family, I met a guy. I knew that he knew who I was. He wasn't that good at the whole spy thing. Maybe he didn't mind that I knew. After a few drinks at a bar, he leveled with me. We looked like we were flirting, but he was telling me about how powerful the De Heer family really was, and how rich. Didn't I want some of that money too? He told me that it wouldn't hurt anyone, not really and that I'd make a lot of money. Of course, he and those he represented would too.
He explained it as simple espionage. The malware didn't damage anything. If it had, then it would have been found right away. It was more of a drip-feed of information. It did some kind of filtering for financial details, big decisions. What was being bought and sold. Where investments were going, who was getting bonuses. Based on that information, stock trades were made. Profits were distributed twice a year, automatically. I have a numbered bank account offshore that's doing pretty well.
I was going to wait a while and then disappear. I'd had enough of your father. He was getting worse and worse. Not just to me, the other staff, even your sister. The men got it bad, but the women worst of all. I didn't understand what was going on, but it was like he had some kind of dementia that got rid of the right parts of his personality and left only the cruel shell.
Then he died. Just like that, it was over. I thought your mother would fire me. She had to know that he was sleeping with me, after all, but instead, she was so kind. She kept me on, gave me a raise, went on about opportunities outside of the country, and...well, it hurt. I couldn't get rid of the malware then without revealing what kind of person I was, could I? All I could do was keep your mother and sister safe. So I did that.
And I knew that you'd come back, sooner or later. I didn't understand why you hadn't yet, but I became friends with Isa, and I knew that she wanted you to come back home as much as I did. Then your mother passed, and you came back to us. To me.
It was going well, I mean, really well. I thought we were reconnecting. I was slow, but...I knew that you'd let me back in your bed if I proved myself to you. After all, you're a little like your father. The right parts anyway. And you share his preferences in women.
Then I was sitting in the damn car waiting for you to get done with Tonya Whatsherface, and the alarm goes off. I knew that it was my fault. My betrayal. I couldn't tell you how I just felt it, you know? It was like a bottomless pit opened in my stomach, swallowing everything but fear, guilt, and shame. I was positive that whatever was happening to you was planned using information gained from that fucking virus.
I had to get you out. I kind of wanted to die a little. Maybe I would have been killed, but your dumb ass stopped and waited for me to catch up with you, so I knew that I had to get you out of there myself. You'd never have left me behind. Then I guess I let my emotions get the better of me.
I'm sorry, Reuben. I'm sorry I let you down and endangered you, your mother, and Isa. I've never spent a dime of the money. I'll give it to you, and you can do whatever you want with it. Donate it or whatever.
You can do whatever you want with me, too, but I think you know that. I won't fight you. I won't complain. I know what I did, and I'm ready to pay for it.
* *
When she finished, I got up and got her some Kleenex from the counter. She was crying continuously now. Her cool professional mask was gone, and all there was left was guilt, damage, and loss. I was angry at her for what she'd done, but I loved her more than I ever had. I had never thought that she'd meant to hurt Isa or me.
I could hear my father's voice in the back of my head, telling me exactly how to deal with her. How to break her again, to make her cry out in pain and pleasure
and humiliation. She'd never love me again, but she'd never betray me again either.
I listened to the other voice.
I reached and took the gun from in front of her, then I took out the magazine and un-chambered the remaining bullet, very carefully.
"Apology accepted," I said.
Rachel looked at me, stunned.
"That's not...you can't just..."
"Yes, I can. I won't pretend that I'm not angry with you, and I'm sure Isa will be as well, but that's not the point right now. Do you want to make things up to us?"
"Y..yes. God yes. Just tell me. I'll do anything."
"Be here for me. Do your fucking job the way you have been. Protect us and be with us and stay alive. I want to do what I can for you to make up for what father did, and I want to make up for leaving when I did. To both you and Isa. We all have something to be ashamed of. We'll just have to work through it. That's what people who love each other do, isn't it?"
Rachel couldn't answer, her eyes were red with tears, and she looked down and hid her face by leaning on her arms. I got up and crouched beside her. For a long time, I just sat there next to her, holding her and stroking her hair gently. As I waited for her to calm down a bit, I made us both some coffee. I considered putting off the other part of the conversation, but then I decided that it needed to come out in the open now, or it never would. I poured us both a cup before I sat down next to her and pulled out the small file folder that I'd take from my father's office.
"There's something else we need to talk about, Rachel."
"God," she said, wiping the tears away, "what else? I...I can't think of anything else that I need to confess. I swear... "
I shook my head.
"It's all right, Rachel. I don't want to make things worse, but...I don't want to keep things from you."
"You? Keep things from me?"
I sighed.
"I just found out today, when I was making sure that you were the the...the person who planted the drive."
"You can call me a traitor."
I shook my head.
"You attacked someone else a long time ago, and it happened to hurt us now. You never betrayed us. If anything, you have more motive to do what you did than you know."
Rachel looked at me and sat back a bit in her chair. I could see something like fear in her eyes, and I wondered if she had ever suspected what I was going to tell her.
"What do you mean, Reuben? Just...just say it."
I pushed a small envelope across the table to her.
"Your mother was Father's mistress. He didn't buy you so much as take full custody. I'm sure he paid your mother money, but I'm guessing mostly he used intimidation. You're his daughter and my half-sister."
Rachel's hand covered her mouth as she opened the envelope and went through the papers. I stayed quiet, but put my hand on the table. Unconsciously, she reached out and held it with painful force. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, over the minutes, her grip loosened. She read everything: the love-letters from her mother to our father, the birth certificate listing him as her father, and the papers that certified that he had full and uncontested custody of her. I wondered what her mother had been promised.
I stayed there with her for a long time in silence. I made us some more coffee, and we sat together in silence until we were done.
"I've got to go now, Rachel. I'll be back to check on you later, and I expect you to have eaten something and rested. You're off duty until at least tomorrow when you will formally move into the main house, where you belong."
Rachel smiled at me with something like satisfaction at hearing the words. I wondered if it was because I was protective of her or because I was giving her orders. I didn't care much either way as long as she stayed with us. With me.
Now I just had to deal with Isa.
* * *
9 Years Ago - Isa
* * *
It happened when we least expected it. We were close, of course, but then we always had been. My father's brutality simply brought us closer together. I sometimes wonder if that was his intent. He was subtle in his cruelty.
No longer relying on private tutelage, for the last four years, we'd been separated and sent to premier private schools. I was sent to one on the west coast, and she to one in Switzerland. It always seemed like she got the better deal, but neither of us wanted it, not really. We hated to be separated for long periods. We were allowed to call and chat with each other, however. I was worried that distance would make us grow more distant, but instead, we both made an effort to stay in regular contact at least a few times a week. Far from the instinctive intimacy that twins share, we grew in different ways and shared more of ourselves. Consciously, we spoke of our dreams and fears, and it led to a much more mature and sophisticated understanding of one another. It also led to a deep and troubling sense of guilt over my relationship with Rachel as our senior year started.
That, quite naturally, led us in unexpected directions. Visits home for holidays and summer became something extraordinary because we'd get to spend time together. Our gifts for each other became much more personal and thoughtful, and often we made them by hand. Crude though my carving skills were, Isa loved chess, and she was stunned by the handmade set that I'd given her. I kept every single painting that she'd given me. They were hanging at my old apartment and were one of the few things I had taken with me when I'd left.
I don't know if that was what father had intended or not. He never seemed to dissuade us from being close, not really. I know that late in my teens, he had, at times, made ominous statements aimed at Isa when I wasn't quite up to his standards, in grades or behavior. He never outright threatened her, but he didn't need to. I would not have been able to cope with the guilt of having caused her that kind of harm, even indirectly. I didn't know if he had made the same sort of statements to Isa regarding me, but I suspected as much. Was that designed to make us more thoughtful of how our actions affect each other? Was his cruelty directed to the end of keeping us close? Or was it just to play our natural competitiveness off of each other? I didn't put either past him.
* *
Senior year had ended. We had both graduated with honors from secondary school. The summer had barely started. We were both a little edgy, ready to go to college and start our lives, at least as we saw them. Almost tacitly, we had agreed to go to either the same college or at least colleges that were relatively close, no more than an hour or two apart. We never wanted to be separated as we had been before, and we knew it. We both had plans for the summer involving acquaintances that were scattered across the world. Some of her closest friends were going to visit her at our house in early June. For my part, I was going to go on something of a tour in July, visiting a few buddies and also seeing a lot of the country for the first time.
While Isa tolerated my requests for her to set me up with one of her friends as the jokes they were, she was much less impressed with the idea of me disappearing for a month. And she let me know it.
"Do you really have to go for a whole month? This could be our last time together before...well, before we have to start working."
"Are we going to have this conversation again?"
We were outside eating breakfast, it was the early morning, and for once, it wasn't hot or humid. I wore shorts and a tee-shirt and she a daringly short skirt and a tight tank top. She'd been showing a lot more skin and curves lately, and seemed to bend and stretch and turn so I could have the best view of her svelte form. She didn't have a lot of curves, but she was growing into them. I was frustrated by her little performances but also welcomed them. I tried not to think about why, even as her image came to me unasked for as I masturbated in the dark hours of the night. The sun was moving between clouds, and for my part, I could think of nothing better to do than walk and nap and read, hopefully with Isa near my side, but she just kept harping on me. I wasn't aware of how much we must have sounded like a bickering couple. Annoyed with each other but still very caring. I'm g
rateful that father and mother had other things on their mind then because some of the servants could most certainly tell that we were in love, even if we could not.
* * *
"Yes, we are! It's...it's ridiculous!" Isa stood up, surprising me by walking over and sitting next to me on my side of the table. She put her hand on my arm, genuinely entreating me. "Can't you postpone your trip until...until next summer? Or make it shorter?"
"I did have a thought about that," I said, cautiously, "something of a compromise." I hoped that she would go for it. Isa loved compromises and negotiations.
"Go on," she said, her face stony, but her eyebrow raised.
"What if you came with me?"
"Um," she said, clearly surprised, "but...I mean...I can't..."
"Why? Did Father forbid you? Mother? We're adults now. We both know that we're not truly free, but do you really think that they would stop you?"
"I guess...I assumed that it wouldn't work. They've always been overprotective of me, or so it seems. Father wants his daughter to be pure so she can be married off. Ugh." Isa sounded genuinely bitter. I'd heard that tone from her more than once recently, and it concerned me. I tried to ignore the wave of emotions I felt at the idea of her marrying someone. It wouldn't do to confront that now.
"Father might prevent you from going, but he might not. I think most likely he'll put some restrictions on our travel."
"I overheard him talking about having bodyguards shadow you anyway."
"See? I bet that he'll just hire some more. So come with me. You might have fun."
Isa finally smiled at me, her teeth as bright as the sun, her eyes lit with joy. We finished breakfast and went for a walk. We didn't speak for a long time, which wasn't that unusual. Without thinking, we'd started holding hands once we reached the forest path. That too wasn't that unusual anymore, although neither of us ever addressed it directly. Isa broke the silence first.
"I thought you wouldn't want me to come."
