Page 46 of Stained In Sin (The Twisted Trilogy #1)

Evelyn

“I told you, I really think she needs professional help.”

I look at Harmony, who is telling me that she thinks Astra needs to be admitted somewhere. It has been two months now since her sister’s passing, and since Lucien decided to give her an ultimatum—one that I think was necessary, but difficult for her.

She stares at her coffee, trying to think of a solution.

“We can’t just let her kill herself, Evelyn. She needs something neither of us can give her. After Lucien dumped her, she has been worse— way worse.”

“He didn’t break up with her, Harmony. She chose to leave. It was her choice.”

The silence lingers between us.

“I just wish I could help her…”

“I know you do. We all do, but some things are out of our control. By the way, are you still being um… followed?”

She scans the room nervously as if someone is watching her this very moment.

“I can’t talk about it.” She casts me a pleading glance, and I nod, knowing some things aren’t meant to be messed with. I can thank Dante for suppressing my curious instincts. I slide out of the booth, and we say our goodbyes. I head outside to meet Dante, who is already waiting on his Ducati.

He insisted that I ride with him on it, since he found out I have become an adrenaline junkie. I slide on the helmet as he fastens the straps, securing me. I slide onto the back of his bike and wrap my hands around his middle, hugging him tightly as he takes off towards his house—our home.

* * *

I’m in the kitchen, making my favorite dessert—brownies.

I have always been a chocolate kind of girl.

There is something about it that reminds me of home.

I feel at home here. I have been living with Dante for a couple of months, and my life couldn’t be more perfect.

Speak of the Devil. I turn around and Dante stares at me from across the kitchen with his arms crossed over his broad chest, eyeing me up as if I am his next snack.

“How long are you going to be? I’m getting lonely.”

I roll my eyes at his childish behavior.

“You’re a big boy. I think you can occupy yourself for an hour.” I make a shooing motion with my hands, and he stays put.

“Why are you making brownies? We haven’t even had dinner yet?”

“I like to be prepared.” I shoot my eyes at him, almost as a challenge.

“You’re the least prepared person I know,” he mocks, and he saunters off to the elevator, allowing me to be a chef in peace.

I slide the brownies into the oven, and I plop down onto the couch. I open my phone, catching up on anything I’ve missed.

The first post that appears features Astra and a group of girls at a bar. She st arted going out as soon as she was healed. I’ve been invited a handful of times, but I’ve been staying in more. I love my quiet nights with Dante. I know I’m safe here.

I scroll through the app, seeing lots of posts from people that I don’t ever talk to. What’s even the point of social media, anyway? I roll my eyes and lock my phone.

I lay down, just staring at the ceiling, waiting for my goddamn brownies.

Maybe tonight I can convince Dante to have another movie night. I rather enjoyed the first one. My cheeks heat at the memory. I threw myself off the edge of a cliff that night, and Dante waited at the bottom, ready to catch me.

* * *

“So you’re not hungry?”

Dante looks frustrated.

“Nope. I had a few brownies. I am fine, I promise.” I smile at him, batting my eyelashes.

“Fine. Movie it is.”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic,” I say sarcastically. He rolls his eyes, stepping into the elevator.

“Do you remember the first time we watched a movie together?”

He suppresses a grin.

I lace my arms around his neck, peering up into his deep brown eyes. They haven’t been as black lately, but I also haven’t seen him angry in recent times.

“Yes.” He wraps his hands around me, giving my ass a firm squeeze.

“Do you need me to remind you?”

My skin heats, and I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth. I would love nothing more than a reminder.

He lowers his head to my neck and takes my flesh between his, sucking as if I supply him with life. I let out a soft moan. He pulls his mouth back slightly, hovering above my sensitive skin.

“Fuck the movie,” his disheveled tone raspy.

He hurls me over his shoulder and takes us to his room.

This is going to be a long night.

* * *

I wake to my phone ringing at 4 in the morning. Dad is displayed across the screen. I swipe and answer in a panic.

“Is everything okay?” I feel my heart racing in my chest. He would never call me at this hour unless it were a dire emergency.

“Evelyn, I need you to come to the hospital now. Your mother…,” he chokes on his words, “your mother is on a ventilator.”

Dread sinks into my bones as I stiffen from his words. They suffocate me, drown me in agony.

“W-what happened?” I feel my throat constrict, trying to hold back the wave of emotion crashing through me.

He is silent for a moment and then speaks dryly.

“There was a fire. Our home is gone, Evelyn. I’ll see you soon.” The line goes dead.

The phone shakes in my hand, unable to remove it from my ear. It can’t be true.

Dante sits up on his side of the bed, noticing my trembling body.

“Baby, is everything okay?” He scurries off the bed and kneels before me, stroking my hair affectionately.

I close my eyes, allowing the tears to break free. I gasp, trying to inhale anything. I can’t fucking breathe. He quickly presses his forehead to mine and takes my hands in his.

“Where do we need to go, what do we need to do?” he implores.

“M-my….. mom…. she’s… in the hospital.”

He squeezes my hands, and he rushes into action.

He returns to the bed fully dressed, having gathered my clothes for me. He helps me get dressed as I sob to myself. He lifts my chin, forcing my eyes to lock with his.

“We will do whatever needs to be done, princess. I love you.” He plants a soft kiss upon my lips.

He loves me. The thought rushes into my mind, offering a moment of comfort.

Then he rushes me to the hospital, unable to hold onto the comfort for long because all I can think is— I don’t want my mom to die.

* * *

I sit next to her hospital bed, holding her hand in mine. The tears stopped about an hour ago. I’ve been sitting here for 10 hours. Waiting for her to wake up. Nothing.

I wonder if this is how they felt when the roles were reversed. Guilt pangs in my chest.

“You should go eat, sweetheart.” My father tries to get me to budge, but I can’t leave her like this. I need her to come back.

“I’m waiting for her.” My voice cracks with hope.

“Excuse me, Mr. Blackwell?”

A man emerges into the room holding a clipboard.

“That’s me.” My father sounds tired.

“My name is Dr. Watson. I have some news regarding your wife’s condition. You may want to take a seat.”

My father takes a seat next to me as we listen to the news, and he breaks it.

“We ran a full neurological scan. The MRI shows extensive damage to the brain, particularly the areas that control consciousness and motor function. There is no activity where there should be. I’m so sor ry, but she will not regain awareness.”

My father stares at the floor, and I glance over to my mother’s soft face. She looks horrible with all of these machines and tubes hooked up to her. My stomach twists in knots.

“There is still a chance. She needs more time.” My father’s statement is hopeful.

“I understand you’re upset, as this is devastating news, but the toxic smoke she inhaled sent her oxygen levels too low. It is critical brain damage.”

“There has to be another test. A scan can’t possibly tell you that. She’s a fighter. My wife will never give up.”

“We ran a brain stem reflex test to be certain. She failed every single one. I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwell. Take all the time you need.”

The doctor stands and walks out of the room, leaving us helpless in the face of the inevitable fate.

My mother is dead. She will never speak again.

She will never offer me comfort or advice.

She will never meet her grandchildren. She will never grow old with my father.

The thoughts travel through my brain like a freight train.

My throat constricts, and I feel my stomach flip. My jaw aches from clenching it, holding in the cries that want to break free. My mother isn’t supposed to die.

I stand and storm out of the room to find Dante in the lobby. He walks up to me and holds me in his arms as I let it out. I let it all flow out. The tears, the pain, the guilt. All of it.

* * *

I make my way back to the hospital room two hours later. My father told me we would say our goodbyes together, as a family. I’ve had very little time to think about it, but I know she already knows I’ll miss her.

I enter the room to find my father sitting on the bed next to my mother , stroking her hand, knowing it will be the last time he will have the chance to do so. He plants a kiss on her forehead and stands to allow me space to say my goodbyes.

I sit where my father did and take her hands in mine. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but they never leave my mouth. My throat constricts and tears threaten my eyes once more.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I lean forward, placing my head on her chest. I can hear her heartbeat— steady and slow.

I close my eyes and let the tears roll down my cheek as I whisper to her, “You will always be my first home… Before him… You were all I had. I’ll never forget you.

” I listen to her heartbeat, allowing it to bring me back to when I was a child.

“I remember… every time I was scared, you’d tell me— “Close your eyes, honey. If you can hear my heart, you’re not alone.” I sit and let the tears roll down my face as I finish my goodbye, “Now it’s my turn, Mom.” I sit up and place my hand over her heart.

“You’re not alone. I’m right here, always with you. You can rest easy now… I will carry the love you gave me, every step of the way.” I place a soft kiss on my mother’s cheek as I stand to join my father and Dante.

My father nods to the doctor, who switches off her ventilator, and that’s it.

My mother is dead.

* * *

It has been a week since my mother passed away. Her funeral was the most difficult one I have been to. So many people offering me sympathy, when all I really wanted was my mother back.

I know she will always be with me, but I feel like we didn’t have enough time. I wanted her to be at my wedding one day. I wanted her to be there for me when I have my first child. The ache will never dull. She was taken too soon.

One of the things that upset me the most was that Astra didn’t make it to her funeral. She has been on a bender lately. Dante assured me that Lucien is keeping an eye on her, but I doubt it. He couldn’t care less about her reckless behavior after she chose the drugs over him.

My father has been staying at a hotel nearby, but he told me he is retiring and moving to California. He told me it was a place my mother always wanted to live. I can’t blame him. He lost his entire world.

Dante has been very supportive of me. Making sure that I am taking care of myself and not loathing, although I have been eating my feelings this past week. After the fire, Dante had numerous questions, particularly regarding the cause of the fire.

The only people in the home were my mother and father. Sergio was away for the evening. It started around 2:30 A.M. They still haven’t determined what caused the fire, meaning that it wasn’t a simple electrical fire.

I stare down at my breakfast, lost in my thoughts.

“I have some more information from the fire.”

I glance up towards Dante, who has been standing across the island from me for who knows how long.

“There were 3 points of origin.”

I blink, feeling confused by that information.

“What does that mean?”

“That means that three separate fires were started. At the same time.”

The hairs on my arms rise, sending a shiver down my spine.

“So…. someone did this on purpose..”

“Yes.”

Who would want to burn down my family’s home? I try to think of any possible leads. I can’t possibly let someone kill my mother and get away with it.

“Do you have any ideas on who did it?”

He gives me a sad smile, glancing down at the counter between us.

“I don’t have any evidence, but I have a theory.”

I meet his eyes and take a deep breath.

His lips curve into a knowing smile.

I remain silent.

“Don’t you want to know my theory?”

I shrug my shoulders. I don’t want to think right now.

“If you tell me now, I might make a bad decision.”

His grin widens, “How bad we talking?”

I roll my eyes. He can be so infuriating sometimes.

“Listen, I’m not like you. I don’t want to kill anyone.” I don’t. I don’t think I could ever live with the guilt. Even if they did kill my mother, I don’t think I could do it.

“Once I tell you my theory, I think you’ll change your mind.” He winks at me and goes to exit the room.

“Okay, fine. Tell me.”

He turns around and takes a seat next to me.

I hope he isn’t right. I don’t think I could kill someone.