The Taste of Revenge (War of Sins Book 1)

‘Your brother was worried, Noelle,’ Dr. Chadwick, my new therapist, mentions as she reclines in her chair. She’s a very beautiful woman in her early thirties, her blonde hair flowing down her back, her big honey eyes hidden behind a pair of spectacles. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she looks me up and down in that typical manner of hers—as if she could reveal all my secrets at once.

Maybe she can. After all, it’s her job to make me talk. But right now, the mention of my brother alone doesn’t make me very inclined to accommodate her.

‘Did he tell you to give me more pills? Maybe cure the crazy in me faster?’ I grumble under my breath.

‘Don’t say that. Your brother is just worried for you. You missed six appointments before he brought you here today. What happened?’

I shrug.

‘I went for ice cream instead.’

I changed a number of therapists in the last year, and Dr. Chadwick is Cisco’s latest attempt at making sure I know how crazy I am.

I cannot fault the woman though. For all my aloofness, she’s been the epitome of calm and serenity for the past hour, trying to coax me into revealing all my secrets.

Too bad even I don’t know them.

‘Noelle,’ she sighs. ‘Your attitude is not helping. And I can’t help you if you don’t want to accept my help.’

‘I’m not sure anyone can help me, Dr. Chadwick. That ship sailed a long time ago.’

‘Don’t talk like that. You’re only twenty-two. You have your whole life ahead of you.’

‘Then why do I feel so old?’ I whisper, raising my gaze to meet hers. ‘Why do I feel so much older than that?’

‘Talk to me.’ Her expression is one of kindness, and I find it hard to be mean to her when she’s been nothing but sweet to me.

‘I don’t know what to say. I really don’t,’ I take a deep breath.

‘Tell me about your husband,’ she urges and I freeze. ‘You never talk about him,’ she continues.

My chest feels heavy, my entire body racked by pain as memories assault me.

‘I don’t like to talk about him,’ I say softly, dropping my eyes to the floor.

‘You were married at eighteen, right?’ she probes, and I see that she won’t be satisfied until she pries the information from my lips.

‘Yes.’ I answer curtly.

Maybe it will help if I talk about it. Maybe pretending to be detached will actually help me detach myself from it—from my past.

‘How was he?’

I blink, rooted to the spot as the images from my wedding—my cursed wedding—dance before my eyes.

‘He wasn’t a nice man,’ is all I say.

His face as he’d smirked at me resurfaces, his fingers fumbling with his belt while I’d backed away from him in fear.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to push the memory away. Still, my skin cannot forget. My scars cannot disappear. The pain—that bone melting pain—is still fresh in my mind.

‘Noelle?’ Dr. Chadwick’s voice jolts me back to reality.

‘He wasn’t a nice man,’ I repeat, adding more confidence to my voice.

She purses her lips, studying me.

‘Why don’t we switch this up a little,’ she proposes, shuffling some of the papers in her lap. ‘It says here that you have selective dissociative amnesia,’ her eyes meet mine as she waits for me to continue.

‘Yes.’

‘What’s the last thing you remember?’

I’m going to fucking kill you, bitch.

‘I don’t know, really. It was just a regular day, I guess,’ I reply, scratching my arm. ‘We were preparing for a party at the hacienda.’

‘I see,’ she says as she jots something down.

What? What do you see?

‘Why do you think you suppressed your memories?’ She asks.

‘Isn’t that your job to figure out?’ I roll my eyes at her, but she just smiles.

‘I’m curious to see why you think you blocked them out.’

The question gives me pause. I’ve thought about that countless times, trying to figure out what could have been so terrible I’d simply erased those memories from my mind.

‘Everyone died. Everyone.’

I was the only survivor. One foot in the grave, but I was the only one who made it out alive that day.

‘Right. In the fire,’ she nods. ‘Who died? Anyone you cared about?’ She continues to probe, and somehow I find myself going along with her questions, the answers tumbling out of my mouth.

‘Yes. My friend,’ I pause to wet my lips, my throat suddenly dry. A flash appears before my eyes, words echoing in my mind—all branding me a killer.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block everything. Still, the whispers in my ears continue, haunting me and promising me the retribution I deserve.

‘I killed her. I killed…’ I shake my head, mumbling the same nonsense, almost on a loop. ‘I killed…’

My limbs start trembling, a shiver running down my back and making me huddle deeper into the couch.

‘I killed her,’ I repeat, my eyes wide and unblinking as I see her face right before my eyes.

She’d been the only decent person in that house. The only one who’d taken pity on the stranger who barely spoke the language. She’d guided me and helped me learn and accommodate to the culture. Without her…what was already hell would have been much worse.

‘What do you mean you killed her?’ Dr. Chadwick frowns.

I shake my head aggressively, the memory just within reach, but so far away.

‘I don’t know… I don’t remember. But I’m sure. I’m sure…’

An ominous feeling envelops me, and deep down I know something is wrong—that I am all wrong.

Maybe they are right and I am crazy.

Though I’ve denied it from the beginning, there’s the unmistakable sensation that something is missing—that my memories, once restored, will uncover something monstrous inside of me.

‘Don’t strain yourself, Noelle. The memories will come with time.’

With time… But do I want them to come?

It’s already been two years, and the blank in my head still remains—memories from before and after my time at the hacienda blurry or simply absent.

I can only remember him, and his punishments. I can remember all the pain and suffering and I have to ask myself. Why hadn’t my mind blocked that too? Because if whatever happened was more traumatic than what I remember… Then I’m not sure I ever want to remember.

‘Why don’t you tell me about your friend, then,’ she says, her notebook in front of her as she keeps jotting things down.

Almost absentmindedly, I take my shoes off as I bring my knees to my chest, folding myself into a small ball to preserve heat. Goosebumps erupt all over my body the more I think of the past.

‘Noelle?’

‘She was nice. She only spoke some English, but she always made an effort to help me. We taught each other,’ I smile at the memory. ‘She would help me with Spanish and I would help her with English.’

‘That sounds lovely,’ Dr. Chadwick smiles.

I return the smile tentatively.

‘She had a lover who spoke only English. We’d spend our evenings trying to come up with flirty things for her to tell him,’ the memory is pleasant, and my lips curl up even further into a warm smile.

‘Why do you think you killed her?’ Dr. Chadwick asks, and I frown, the suddenness of the question taking me by surprise.

‘I… I… I don’t know,’ I keep shaking my head.

‘Don’t strain yourself.’

‘I don’t remember, but I know,’ I mumble. ‘There’s something inside of me that knows I killed her. God,’ I start breathing harshly, something tugging at my conscience. It feels like I could almost grasp it—that elusive memory.

‘You can’t know for sure if you don’t remember, Noelle.’

As if being struck by something, I stumble back in my seat, my arms around my body as I try to warm myself up. Tears soak my cheeks. My throat is clogged with emotion as I realize my intuition had been right all along.

‘But I do…’ I look her in the eyes. ‘She died because of me. Lucero died because of me.’

‘Noelle, you need to calm down,’ Dr. Chadwick tells me worriedly, rising up from her chair to come to my side.

‘Don’t… don’t touch me,’ my voice is barely above a whisper as I shy away from her.

‘I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe here,’ she coos, slowly reaching out for me with her hand.

‘Shh, it’s fine,’ she tugs me into a hug and I simply break down.

Sobs rack my body as I finally let go of all the bottled up pain.

Her hands trail down my back, her touch slowly bringing me back to the present and grounding me.

‘I’m sorry,’ I sniffle when I feel I have a better grasp on myself.

‘You have nothing to be sorry for, Noelle. But I’m going to be very honest with you,’ she leans back, regarding me with a serious expression on her face. ‘There’s a lot of trauma in your past, a lot of it that you have never dealt with and it’s causing you distress now. I can help you and guide you to understand it better. But I can only do that if you are willing to put in the work.’

I nod at her.

‘What if I can’t take it? What if the memories are too bad? Too…’

‘Is that what you want? To never remember? To never know what happened to your friend?’

I shake my head. I want to remember, but I also don’t want to.

‘I’m scared. The little snippets I do remember don’t give me much hope for the rest. And I’m already hanging by a thread…’ I trail off, taking a deep breath. ‘I don’t know how to function anymore. I don’t know how to be…me.’ I finally admit the crux of the issue.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know who I am anymore. My entire identity was wrapped up in being a wife, and then…a widow. A broken widow. I know who people see me as, but I don’t know who I am.’

Dr. Chadwick purses her lips, removing her glasses and rubbing her eyes.

‘We’ll start small then,’ she eventually says. ‘What’s something that you used to enjoy doing? Before you got married. Before everything.’

I tilt my head as I look at her, trying to think of an answer.

‘I used to play the piano,’ I admit, almost reluctantly. Because while I’ve been playing the piano ever since I was a little girl, I’d also been forced to do it at the hacienda. Sergio had enjoyed bragging about my skill, forcing me to perform in front of his guests, and that had never been pleasant.

‘When was the last time you played?’

‘Before… Before the fire.’

‘Why don’t you start again? Would you like that?’

I think for a moment as I slowly nod my head.

‘Good. Then that’s your assignment until next time. Try to play something. Anything. And report back how that made you feel.’

‘That’s it?’ I ask as she gets up, heading back to her chair and placing her notepad on a table.

‘Yes. That’s it for today,’ her lips tug up. ‘You know, from what your brother told me, I expected you to be more difficult.’

‘And?’ I ask, my own lips curling in response.

‘I think there’s still hope for you,’ she winks at me, before showing me out.

I don’t know if there is hope for me, but I am willing to try. Contrary to what everyone seems to think of me, I do want to get out of this limbo and I do want to find myself again.

But it’s not easy. And it certainly won’t be a smooth journey.

I just wish I had someone by my side—someone to support me unconditionally.

Someone to love me.

The foolish thought creeps into my head and I still as I realize the direction of my thoughts.

When I was younger, I had dreams. Like any girl, I’d thought about meeting my prince charming and living happily ever after. But all those hopes were dashed when I was told I would marry an unknown man from Mexico.

All those hopes were dead and buried on my wedding night, with the blood I shed from deep wounds, now forever seared in my flesh.

I’d stopped thinking about love when I’d come face to face with my new reality.

And having seen what the world has to offer, I don’t think there’s such a thing as unconditional love. Not after I’d been traded like cattle by my own family. Not when no one had intervened even when I’d called one day, crying and scared that my husband was going to kill me.

No one had tried to help me.

It seems I’m bound to be forever on my own.

‘Where is she?’

The voice reaches the landing of the second floor, making me hurry down the stairs. My eyes widen in surprise as I see my two brothers, Thadeo and Amo, standing in the hallway.

‘Noelle?’ Amo is the first to spot me, his features softening as he opens his arms for me to jump into.

‘Amo,’ I exclaim, taking refuge in his hug. ‘What are you guys doing here?’ I ask on a breathless tone.

I haven’t seen Amo in months. With him spending most of his time traveling the world and Thadeo living with his family on the other side of the country, it’s hard to see my brothers often. But while Amo had dropped by every now and then, Thadeo had been the most elusive, and the last time I’d seen him in the flesh had been before my wedding. But I have an inkling why.

I push that thought out of my mind, enjoying seeing Amo again and looking forward to spending some time with him. He is the youngest man in the family and the closest one in age to me. Even so, he’s still ten years older than me.

Maybe that’s why I’ve never been close to any of my siblings, since by the time I was old enough to comprehend certain things, they were already forming their own families—at my expense.

Granted, that can’t be said about Amo since he’s had his own demons to grapple with over the years. He’s the only one who’s always been completely unattached, and I don’t think he’s ever had a stable relationship. I may not be privy to much, but from what I’ve gathered, he’s been battling some type of addiction for over a decade.

‘Noelle,’ Thadeo grunts from behind, and my lips press in a thin line.

Raising my gaze to meet his, I feel a small pang of pain in my chest as I realize that if Thadeo is here then so is she.

‘Cisco didn’t tell me you were coming,’ I lean back, placing some distance between us.

‘We didn’t know for sure either,’ Amo replies, giving Thadeo a look.

And just as I’m about to ask what this is all about, her voice rings out.

‘Yuyu says dinner will be ready soon,’ she comes into view, stopping when she sees me. ‘Noelle, how good to see you,’ she exclaims, though I know her concern to be fake.

Like everything else.

‘Camilla,’ I nod noncommittally at her.

There’s a flurry of movement and conversation as we are led to the dining hall, everyone sharing various anecdotes from their lives and trying to add to the discussion so it’s not as awkward as it already is.

I’m in the back, just watching everyone pretend they are having the greatest time, cracking a smile every now and then.

‘You should eat more, Noelle. You need to stay strong,’ Yuyu comments, laying her hand gently on top of mine and giving me a small smile.

I turn to her, taking in her features. The way her black eyes seem to sparkle with warmth and genuine affection, it’s even harder to muster a backhanded reply.

She’d been an orphan before Cisco had found her on the streets, taking her in and caring for her like he had never cared for anyone else. And when he’d finally married her, her lack of parentage as well as her Chinese heritage had caused an uproar in the family.

Cisco hadn’t cared though. He’d never cared about anything but her.

‘Thank you,’ I force myself to reply as she places some meat on my plate, urging me to eat more.

Cisco is watching our interactions like a hawk, probably making sure I’m not rude to her.

The others seem oblivious to the tension in the air—everyone but Camilla.

She’s watching me covertly, her eyes the same shade as his—the monster who’d been my husband.

I know what she must be thinking. She’s afraid I’m going to speak out, that I’m going to tell Thadeo what his bitch of a wife did.

She barely touches her food as her gaze finds mine every now and then. It’s only after dinner that she manages to catch me alone, taking me aside in one of the unoccupied rooms.

She’s restless as she paces in front of me, her features stained with the fear of being discovered.

‘I’m sorry,’ she finally says, and my eyes widen in surprise. Of all the things I thought she was going to say to me, that had not been it.

‘You’re sorry…’ I repeat, slowly.

‘I know what I did was unforgivable. But I was scared. I was scared that he would choose you and give me up,’ her lower lips trembles. ‘We weren’t in a very good period in our marriage, and I knew that one word from you and he would have spurned me.’

‘Camilla,’ I take a deep breath, feeling a headache mounting.

‘No, please. Let me say this. I’ve been living with that guilt for so long, I don’t think I can do it anymore,’ she shakes her head. ‘I knew what Sergio was like, because he was like that with me, too. I’d lived it on my own skin, and yet I condemned you to the same fate. I…’ She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes.

‘You can tell your brother that I picked up the phone that day. You can tell him that I listened to you begging for help and I hung up on you. You can tell him everything. I can’t take this anymore,’ she sniffles a sob. ‘What I did to you… it’s unforgivable, and I’m sorry. I’m ready to face the consequences.’

I can only stare at her wide eyed.

Camilla was supposed to be married to the heir of our family, but instead, she’d fallen in love with Thadeo—or, at least that’s how the story goes. I may have been young, but I’d always seen a certain tension between them. Sergio, her brother, had taken it as an insult that Thadeo had sullied his precious sister, and he’d threatened an all-out war if reparations were not made. So they’d offered me—a bride for a bride.

Sergio had been thirty years older than me, but it hadn’t mattered. None of it had mattered when Cisco had gotten his beloved Yuyu and Thadeo his cherished Camilla. I’d been but an afterthought.

But then again, I’d been so young when I’d been promised to Sergio—not yet a person. At least that’s what I think my brothers told themselves as they pushed through with the deal.

On the day I turned eighteen I was given away to a monster. All so that my brothers could have their happily ever after.

I’d taken it. After all, I’d been raised to expect an arranged marriage. But even my suffering in silence had reached a boiling point when I’d thought Sergio was about to kill me—for good that time. So I’d made a call. The call that Camilla had answered, but pretended it never happened.

‘If he had actually killed me,’ I start, looking her straight in the eye. ‘Would sorry have cut it?’

She blanches at my words, looking more distressed than I’ve ever seen her.

‘I…’

‘Call Thadeo here. Tell him yourself what you did. At least have the decency to take responsibility for your own mistakes.’

She’s trembling from head to toe, but eventually she gives me a jerky nod.

And as Thadeo comes into the room, his expression slowly morphing from one of disbelief to one of disappointment as he looks at his wife, I can’t help but feel sorry for her.

But why should I when she made her own bed?

‘God, Noelle. I’m so sorry,’ he rasps as he takes me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.

I lay still, taking his platitudes, but remaining unmoved by the display. The time has long passed for anyone to pity me or the situation they thrust me into.

‘I’m fine,’ I reply, my tone even. My gaze flickers between the two of them, the tension thick as Thadeo can’t even bring himself to look at Camilla. ‘I’ll leave you two,’ I add briskly, quickly hurrying to my room.

There’s no satisfaction at knowing the truth is out now. There’s no satisfaction at knowing that my brother’s marriage will most likely fall apart.

There’s only numbness.

Heart-wrenching, bone-deep numbness.

Because sorry doesn’t work when you’re already dead. And while my body may be alive, my soul has long died a slow, torturous death.