Page 53 of No Sweeter Poison

I can’t help the way her words sting. They catch me so off guard I barely have a moment to school my features into indifference. Dahlia notices and although the tension in her shoulders dissolve, she makes no attempt at an apology. And why should she? There’s nothing to apologize for and I have no right to be offended and yet I am.

“I’m doing what I can. Do you think I wanted to bring you here?”

“No…” She trials off. “I don’t.”

“Then would it kill you to express a bit of gratitude? Or at the very least, not regard everyone you encounter with such scorching contempt.”

Her cheeks redden. “Yeah…well…” she sputters. “Sorry I’m not all sunshine and rainbows while being surrounded by people I fucking hate all the time!”

I stiffen. My eyes zero in on her and suddenly my legs are moving, entire body burning from the inside out. I cut a clear path across the room and Dahlia’s breath catches as the distance closes between us. She stumbles backward, her foot getting caught on the leg of the chair across from my desk, and she keeps moving, eventually reaching the bookcase. She remains completely still until we’re toe to toe, a mere breath away—

That’s when she grips the shelf behind her, knuckles turning white, and gasps, “The door is open.”

I stop.

Her eyes flicker across my face and they linger on my mouth for a beat too long. I watch her throat move as she swallows, making no attempt to move, still holding on to the shelf for dear life.

“A bunch of people you hate…” I scoff. “Yeah…keep telling yourself that.”

I could have her if I wanted to. Right here, against the bookcase in my office, with the door wide open, and she wouldn’t object. I imagine all the ways I’d take her, on every surface, in every position, all while she begs and pleads with tears streaming down her face. But she doesn’t deserve it.

Not so long as she keeps lying to herself about what we are and what this is.

I turn on the balls of my feet and leave the room. Dahlia doesn’t follow.

BY THE BEACH

Dahlia

“H ow do I apologize to your brother without actually apologizing?”

Diego pauses, a glass of wine halfway to his lips. He sets it down on the table. “What did you do?”

I give a light shrug. “I don’t know…I think I may have insulted him when your grandfather was here.”

“That was three days ago.”

“I know,” I say. “Hence, why I have to apologize. Without actually saying the words I’m sorry. I still have my pride.”

We’re sitting by the pool as the sun beats down on us, me, tanning in a skimpy bathing suit, and Diego in a pair of white swimming trunks with a book in his hand. Alejandro has been avoiding me like the plague since Don Salazar’s visit and not even my choice in wardrobe has provoked a reaction out of him. Usually, he at least complains about Lettie not picking out proper clothes for me and ogles by the window any time I’m in a bathing suit by the pool. But nothing.

Radio silence.

It’s as if he took the whole “me hating him” thing to heart. God, he’s so sensitive. We’re Latin! He needs to grow a pair. Insults are our love language.

Or maybe he’s more peeved about the part where I implied he couldn’t protect me. Even I can admit that was a low blow and I regretted it the moment the words left my mouth. But they were already out and I couldn’t take them back. He killed four people for meand all I’ve done is be an ungrateful pain in his ass. It doesn’t really matter how all of this started. I made the decision to see him and even though I wasn’t aware of who he truly was, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel anything. Everything’s so complicated now.

I don’t know how much longer I can go on pretending to hate him. It’s a shitty defense mechanism, not to mention completely ineffective.

“Alejandro’s very straight forward. You’ll have better luck ripping off the Band-Aid and getting it over with. Say you’re sorry. It’ll take five seconds.”

“Five seconds of my life I can never get back,” I grumble.

Diego laughs. “God, you’re such a brat. I have no idea what my brother sees in you.”

My head swings around and before I can say anything sharp in retaliation, the patio doors open. Alejandro steps out and makes his way toward us. My heart skips and stammers at the sight of him as he approaches.

“Hi.” I lift the rim of my sunhat to look at him. “Are you going to join us?”