Iniquity (Dahlia Saga Book 5)

by Natalie Bennett

  I didn’t want my dead sister’s personal items lingering around my house, just as I didn’t want to tell her widower that I wasn’t interested in them.

  “Can I call you back at this number? I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Of course, but whatever you decide is fine.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, disconnecting the call before he could slip in anything else.

  I remained in bed until thin streams of sunlight began to sneak through my partially shuttered blinds. The heavy flow of early morning traffic disrupted the silence that had cloaked my room for the past few hours.

  Unable to fall back asleep, I spent that time searching my mind for memories of Meg and me. As always, I was only able to grasp straws of a blurry childhood. From what I could remember, it was one I would much rather remain obscured. Our family dynamic was painfully complicated, to say the least.

  I rarely announced I even had a sister—half-sister at that. It was easier this way. No one could ask any questions.

  I slid out of bed and headed straight for the small bathroom right across the hall. I turned the shower on and then chucked my sleep shirt into the hamper. As the water heated, I took a few minutes to brush my teeth, waiting for some form of sadness to hit.

  It never did.

  I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to handle the news about Meg’s death. I’d experienced a loss before, and it had felt like someone tore off a piece of my soul. This wasn’t anything like that. Thus far all I felt was a small amount of guilt and regret—not over her passing, but for the relationship we would now never have or be able to salvage.

  I’d brushed off her last few attempts to talk, completely ignoring her. She had told me she was severely ill almost a month ago, but in one of the last messages she’d sent she claimed to have been better. To get this call was surreal.

  I stepped into the heated cubicle with a heavy sigh. The water came down in comforting steamy rivulets. Pressing my forehead to the slick tiled wall, I replayed the conversation I’d had with Alaric.

  He’d said he hadn’t been able to reach me. I remembered seeing an unknown number a few times—just yesterday, in fact. I never answered, and they didn’t bother leaving me a voicemail. Who didn’t leave a message when it came to something this seemingly important?

  Of course, I wasn’t going to ask him that directly. He had just lost his wife. I’m sure his mind was on a million other things besides having to track down his mysterious sister-in-law.

  It was probably for the best, anyhow. I wouldn’t have been welcome at the burial, and to be honest, I wouldn’t have wanted to go. That was terrible to admit but true nonetheless. I’d have been a distraction for those who didn’t know I existed, and a bitter blast from the past for the ones who were reminded I did.

  I finished my shower, then dried off quickly. After running a pick through my thick mass of hair, I retrieved my robe from the back of the bathroom door. With no plans to leave my humble abode, this was a satisfactory look for the foreseeable future. I returned to my bedroom and grabbed my cell from the nightstand.

  There were three missed call notifications, each followed up with a lengthy text, all within a thirty-minute window. Unsurprisingly, every one of them was from my mother—it was always my mother.

  I didn’t want to speak to her right now, but, based on her most recent message, if I didn’t return her calls within a half-hour she was coming over. That would be ten times worse than dealing with her on the phone. I dialed her back as I walked from my room to the kitchen.

  “Catalina,” she answered before the second ring could finish, trying to force admonishment into her breathless tone.

  “I was in the shower.”

  “Well, I didn’t know that. You know I like to be—”

  “Aware of my every move?” I interjected, reaching for the box of Frosted Flakes on top of my fridge.

  “Did you take your medicine last night?”

  I rolled my eyes and placed the cereal on my tiny island, along with the phone.

  “You don’t have to ask me that every day, Mom.”

  “Yes, I do. It’s my job as your mother to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

  In the background, I could hear the culprit for her breathless state—the treadmill she bought last month and now abused every morning.

  I grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and the milk from the fridge, double-checking the expiration date before pouring it.

  “You know I’m twenty-four years old, right?”

  “A mother’s job is never done,” she snipped. “What are your plans for the day? We should do lunch.”

  Plucking a spoon from the dish-drainer, I sat down on one of my barstools, aiming a frown at the phone. She knew I didn’t do social outings. I was every bit a hermit, preferring to be as anti-social as possible. I kept myself tucked away inside my house. It wasn’t huge or luxurious, but it was cozy, peaceful, and all mine.

  I scooped some flakes up and shoveled them into my mouth, debating how to broach the news about Meg.

  “Mom, I need to tell you something.”

  “You finally found someone to make me a grandmother?”

  I took another bite and shook my head at her backward logic.

  She didn’t trust me to take my medication as prescribed, but she wanted me to find myself a man to make babies with. Deciding Alaric had been right, that there wasn’t an easy way to announce a death, I came right out with it.

  “Mom, Megan is dead. Her funeral was almost a week ago…I guess she lied about getting better.”

  “How did you find this out?”

  “Her husband called me a few hours ago.”

  The whirring of the treadmill came to a stop. “Oh, I’m sorry, kitten.”

  “Please stop calling me that,” I grumbled, slightly surprised she didn’t demand full details on how Meg died.

  What wasn’t surprising was how unauthentic her ‘sorry’ had sounded. Mom was nothing but blunt, often coming across rude and crass.

  Her not asking simply meant she didn’t care to know. Given the peculiarity of our situation, I didn’t think anything less of her for it.

  “And you said there’s already been a service?”

  “Yeah. Her husband couldn’t get in touch with me before then, but you know I wouldn’t have gone anyways because…” My father hates me.

  “You’re allergic to all things mundane,” she filled in dryly.

  I would go with that for the sake of ending this conversation sooner rather than later. I loved my mom to death, and since my Nan was gone, she was all I had. This didn’t make her the easiest person to deal with.

  “So, what exactly did he say?” she probed before I could voice an excuse of needing to use the bathroom. “Was he nice?”

  I propped an elbow on the island and rubbed my brow. “He wanted to fly me out to where he lives so I could go through her things before they’re removed from his house. Do you think it’s weird for him to be getting rid of her stuff so soon?”

  “Not at all,” she replied. “No one wants a constant reminder of the dead.”

  “Good point,” I mumbled around another bite of cereal. I wasn’t sure how long Meg and Alaric had been married, but I couldn’t begin to imagine what losing a spouse felt like.

  “When do you leave?”

  “Leave? You know I’m not going.”

  The line went so quiet I thought she’d hung up again. I tapped the screen to wake it, seeing the timer for our call was still going.

  “Mom?”

  “I’m here. I was just thinking maybe you should.”

  “Since when have you thought me going anywhere other than by your side was a good idea? And to meet some man I don’t know. Are you feeling okay?”

  She made a sound of protest then laughed softly. “He isn’t a total stranger, Catalina. He’s just a family member you haven’t met. You spend weeks cooped up inside your house like a vampire that can’t be touched by sunlight, eating junk fo
od and watching trashy reality television. This would do you some good. Consider it a vacation.”

  “Calling this a vacation is morbid and wrong.”

  I mentally ran down a checklist of what it would take for me to accept this man’s offer. Every task seemed daunting and otherwise impossible.

  For most people, it would have been a breeze to book hotel accommodation, pack a bag, and hop on whatever plane Alaric bought a ticket for.

  I wasn’t most people.

  “Kitten—”

  “We don’t know anything about him. He could be like, a serial killer or something.”

  She scoffed. “He isn’t. The man is in an extremely well-paying field and highly respected amongst his colleagues.”

  And there it was.

  That was her reason for taking such an extreme interest in my sister’s widower of all people. She’d obviously done her research on him. He was probably grey at the edges and desperately trying to cling to the physique he’d had back in his college days.

  Most men my mother was interested in on my behalf were always wealthy and twice my age, making them perfect candidates to be my stepfather or my sugar daddy. Both options were repulsive in equal measures, and I never saw how they would benefit me.

  What did I need to be rich for? There wasn’t anything appealing about living in a bigger house. That would only make me feel more alone than I already did. I didn’t have a desire to be social or dress in designer fashion. I hated wearing clothes as it was.

  If I wasn’t so damn socially inept being able to travel would be nice, but I could do that now if I truly wanted to. My father hadn’t been anything but a donor of sperm and cash my entire life. I wasn’t fabulously wealthy, but I was able to get by just fine.

  A few simple trips wouldn’t have put me on the streets. Stressing any of this to Mom would be a moot point. Never mind my sister had died, she was focused on something else entirely.

  “Even if I miraculously did want to go, I wouldn’t know where to begin with setting all that up.”

  “That’s what you have me for. I can have everything sorted in a couple of hours if you give me his number.”

  “Ha. Yeah, that’s not happening. Nice try.”

  “Don’t underestimate the lengths I’ll go to for your happiness Catalina.”

  “My happiness? Mom, you sound crazy. Meg is dead. This man is her husband, which makes him my brother-in-law. He isn’t a potential catch for me or some pawn to be used in your schemes. Leave it alone.”

  “My schemes?” she scoffed. “I’ve never schemed.”

  “Agree to disagree.”

  “I’ve got to go, all right? I’ll call you later, so try to be near the phone.”

  My cell beeped twice, signaling she’d just ended the conversation, taking my appetite with it. I stared at the screen with furrowed brows, hoping to high hell she wasn’t serious. While her response wasn’t out of the ordinary, the reaction was what troubled me.

  And frustrated me.

  I needed to speak to someone levelheaded, so naturally I sent a text to Chloe, the only friend I had.

  As I waited for her to reply, I took a good look around the square-shaped room that made up the majority of my home. Everything looked the same as it had for the past three years, much to my mother’s dismay.

  The walls were a basic gray, the furniture a mix of navy blue and coral. In the far corner was my hamster’s cage. Some days it felt as if he were the only constant in my life. No fault of his, of course.

  I was aware of my shortcomings as a friend, a sister, and a daughter. I’d never graduated high school, obtaining my GED a year after dropping out. My friend with benefits left the picture entirely two years ago, vanishing without so much as a, “fuck you”.

  This was months after meaningless sex and his abuse of prescription pills, so I wasn’t too heartbroken about it. We were too screwed up and dysfunctional to ever become a real couple.

  All in all, there wasn’t much for me to be proud of other than the fact that I was still breathing and could take care of myself.

  This was to be expected, seeing as I was unfortunately an adult.

  I’d have given my left lung to go back to being young again. I was more motivated and determined—fearless even. I wasn’t sure when that changed, or why. All I knew for certain was that being a grown-up was overrated.

  The silence was shattered abruptly by the Halsey song Chloe had assigned as her exclusive ringtone. I swiped across the screen without hesitation. Unlike with my mom, I could talk to her all hours of the day.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Do you have a minute?” I asked.

  “Always for you. What’s going on?”

  I stood and went to rinse my bowl, relaying everything as I poured soggy cereal down the garbage disposal.

  She blew out a breath when I was done. “Wow. That’s a lot to take in. Your crazy ass mom aside, are you okay? Do you want me to come over? Stupid question, I’m on my way.”

  Though she couldn’t see me, I quirked a brow. Her reaction was much more endearing than my Mom’s and just as unnecessary. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine, but I need your advice.”

  “All the more reason for me to come. I don’t have to work until four. I’ll be there in an hour.”

  I went to protest again, being met with the silence that came from no one listening. For the second time that morning, I’d been hung up on.

  With Chloe coming over I had to put actual clothes on. She wouldn’t have cared, but I thought the least I could do was make myself presentable. Presentable being an oversized T-shirt that covered a pair of booty shorts.

  I unlocked the door so she could come right in, then busied myself refilling Hamtaro’s water bottle and straightening up the front room.

  Almost an hour later exactly, Chloe came bursting through my front door, her deep red hair in perfect barrel curls, her outfit chic and stylish.

  Just thinking about the effort she put into looking so gorgeous all the time exhausted me mentally.

  “I brought you food.” She shook one of those put-together meals you could grab from the grocery store.

  “This isn’t a wake.” I laughed, accepting the container.

  “I knew you wouldn’t accept flowers or sympathy cards, so…” She took a seat on the sofa while I put the food in the kitchen area. “You’re not sad at all?” Her tone wasn’t judgmental, merely curious.

  “Not really. You know how our relationship was. Or lack thereof. Maybe it hasn’t sunken in yet? I don’t know. I’m more upset that I barely knew her and now I never will.”

  She nodded, a look of understanding on her cherub face. “How did she die?”

  “She’d been sick for a while. I’m assuming it was that. I didn’t ask.”

  Gnawing the inside of my lower lip, I pondered the entire situation. Questions began to form in my mind, ones only Alaric would have the answers to. There wasn’t anyone else to speak with about it. I didn’t know anyone else who knew her.

  “Would it be wrong to ask him things about her?”

  Chloe scoffed and flipped one side of her hair over her shoulder. “Cat, she was your sister.”

  That was the response I’d expected, but I wasn’t sure why I’d bothered asking when deep down I didn’t feel as if I had the right to interrogate the man. I’d been physically and emotionally absent when Meg was alive.

  I wasn’t there at the most crucial times she would have needed me; my presence now was useless.

  But I also knew if I simply went on as if none of this happened and she didn’t exist, the small amount of regret I felt would intensify tenfold. It would attack me at the worst possible moments, festering in the back of my mind until suddenly I could think of nothing else, even when I told myself to stop thinking about it.

  “I told you he wants to fly me out there. Should I go?”

  Chloe jerked her attention away from the screen of her phone. “You
answered your own question by asking me that.”

  I stared in confusion.

  “You just suggested you willingly leave your house to go meet not just a human being but a man.”

  “Isn’t a man also a human being?”

  “That’s debatable.”

  “Chloe,” I reprimanded mockingly.

  “Look, the point I’m trying to make is that you suggested this on your own. Not because your mom pushed a voodoo pin in your ass.”

  “While accurate, that assessment doesn’t help me in any way. Would you go?”

  “Yes, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you. Do you want to meet her husband?”

  “No, but like you just said, this isn’t about him or me. It’s about my sister. I feel it’s the right thing to do given the circumstance.”

  She pursed her lips, looking thoughtful for a moment. “If you feel like it’s the right, then go. Just don’t guilt trip your way into something you can’t handle.”

  That was a rather nice way of saying, “Don’t do something that will push you over the edge again.”

  Chloe was one of the rare individuals who’d seen me at my absolute worst. She’d gotten a glimpse of the all the execrable things I kept locked in a tight little box.

  Instead of running for cover like any other sane woman would, she’d stuck by me and pushed me to overcome it, proving she was someone I could rely on. She wasn’t one of those people who disappeared when your life went to shit.

  “I’ve been feeling fine. I haven’t had any blackouts or time lapses. Look, I’ve even kept up with my hair.” I ran my hands over the ombre ends for emphasis.

  From the way she observed me, her perfectly plucked brows drawn tight, I knew my words did little to ease her concerns. I couldn’t be upset about that when she knew exactly how bad I could get.

  My mind had two variations. Some days it burned bright and I was a ball of positivity. Other days the light was completely extinguished, leaving me with nothing but a heavy darkness and thoughts better left unspoken if I didn’t want to wind up in a strait jacket.

  “Okay!” Chloe exclaimed suddenly, clapping her hands together. “Come sit, let’s do some research.” She patted the sofa cushion beside her.