Opaque Melodies (Coveting Delirium Book 1) Read online

  Copyright

  Opaque Melodies by Natalie Bennett

  © 2020 by Natalie Bennett. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where the publisher or author specifically grant permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Jay Aheer—Simply Defined

  Editing by: Pinpoint Editing

  Blurb

  Enigmatic, cocky, and my new brother-in-law.

  Alaric Schyuler had cerulean blue eyes and a smile so beautifully devious it could entice the devil to do his bidding.

  We were never supposed to happen.

  One night changed everything, tying him and me together in a sordid twist of fate, trapping me in his dark, chaotic world.

  The lucid dreams and sick fantasies followed.

  He became the star of my nightmares, always lurking in the shadows, awakening dormant demons one esoteric melody at a time.

  I became his muse, a part of everything he did.

  He would be the death of me.

  And in the end, I wanted nothing more.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  As with majority of my works, this two book series contains various triggers and themes some readers may find objective including Mental Manipulation as well as extreme sadomashicm in book 2. A few scenes within are explicitly graphic. If you need easy answers, a heartfelt HEA, or a reedeemable anti-hero—this story will not appeal to you.

  Opaque Melodies cannot be read as a standalone, there is a cliffhanger. This story concludes in Melodic Madness.

  Contents

  Copyright

  Blurb

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Playlist

  EPIGRAPH

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Melodic Madness

  OTHER BOOKS

  KEEP IN TOUCH

  Playlist

  (Spotify)

  Gabrielle Aplin—My Mistake

  Aquilo—Silent Movies

  Dream Dreamer—Violent Pictures

  One Two—Bitter & Sick

  I Prevail—Paranoid

  Ava Max—Freaking Me Out

  Banks—Poltergeist

  Bishop Briggs—Water

  Lana Del Rey—Cherry

  Lacuna Coil—My Demons

  Tender—Fear Of Falling Asleep

  Monsters/Men—Little Talks

  Carlie Hanson—Side Effects

  Marilyn Mason—Sweet Dreams

  Au/Ra—Panic Room

  Ellise—Nightmares

  Eminem—Tragic Endings

  Tove lo—Passion & Pain Taste The Same

  Billie Eilish—Everything I Wanted

  *Piano pieces*

  Rosseau—Prelude in E Minor (Op. 28 No.4)

  Lucas King—Moonlight Sonata

  Lucas King—Sociopath

  Myuu—Countdown

  Myuu—Moonlight Menschen

  EPIGRAPH

  Share with me your silent dreams and I’ll make you the moon in my universe.

  —Melody Lee--

  CHAPTER ONE

  An annoyingly consistent buzzing pulled me from a dream that had been as vivid as the barking dog down the street. I reached blindly towards my nightstand, skimming my fingers over its surface until I found my cellphone.

  Rolling onto my back, I stared at the screen through squinted eyes an attempt to combat the bright glare. The sequence of digits created a number I had ignored twice the day before.

  The caller showed as Unknown and located in California. I considered sending whoever it was to voicemail, but then they could call right back. I wasn’t in the mood for playing a game of telephone tag. I swiped up, placing the phone on speaker, too lazy to hold it to my ear.

  “Who is it?”

  “Hello…is this, Catalina Haven?”

  I don’t know if it was the sound of his voice that had me waking up a little more, or the fact he used my first and last name. Either way, he’d captured my full attention.

  “Uh, yeah,” I cleared my throat, “This is she.”

  “Were you sleeping? Did I wake you?”

  “It’s almost twelve-thirty in the morning, so what do you think?”

  “Right.” A slight pause, but no apology followed. “This is Alaric Schuyler. I’m calling about your sister.”

  “My…sister?” I questioned slowly.

  Another pause.

  “Catalina,” he stated my name again, confidently this time. “Jonathon Penn is your father, correct?”

  Unfortunately. “Yes.”

  “Then that makes you my wife’s sister.”

  His wife?

  “Oh! You’re calling for Megan?”

  He sighed, and I mentally slapped myself on the forehead. I was so glad he wasn’t in front of me. The man probably thought I was an idiot. Not to mention….

  Shit, I’d forgotten Meg was even married. I sat up a little taller and took him off speaker. “Is everything okay?”

  Of course, it wasn’t. I already knew that. Nothing good came from phone calls received after midnight.

  “Things are…” he expelled another breath. “There’s no easy way to tell you this. Megan—your sister—she’s passed away.”

  My spine straightened, total silence expanding from my end of the line. I had no idea what to say. “I’m sorry,” didn’t feel fitting for the situation.

  “How…when?” I stumbled over the words, this too seeming like the wrong response.

  “Tomorrow marks one week since her service. I’ve tried to reach you by phone and email.” His tone became sympathetic.

  I didn’t want that—his sympathy. It was undeserving and unnecessary.

  “Thank you for letting me know. Is there anything you need?”

  I hoped he would say no. I had absolutely nothing to offer him, not even a shoulder to cry on. They were both preoccupied by tiny devils likely to spear him in the face. I still felt the need to add something supportive to this conversation.

  “If you can arrange things on your end, I would like to fly you out so you can go through her things before they’re donated or sold off.”

  My current train of thought came to a crashing halt. His request was entirely unexpected. “Um, that’s okay. I’m sure you know what best to do with it.”

  “This is me doing precisely that. I’m honoring her wishes.”

  I didn’t expect that either. Or understand my sister’s reasoning for it. Why would you leave all your things to someone you didn’t truly know? My delayed response had him continuing.

  “If it’s because of your schedule or reluctance to fly, I can ship everyth--.”

  “No!” I objected. “No,” I repeated much softer, scrubbing a hand over my face. “You don�
��t have to do that.”

  I didn’t want my dead sister’s personal items lingering around my house. Just as I didn’t want to tell her widow 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 of 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 this man 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 that 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 everyday 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 of 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 a bit of flakes up and shoveled them into my mouth, debating on 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 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 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 inside your house like a vampire that can’t be touch
ed by sunlight. Eating junk food 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 take this man up on his offer. Every task seemed daunting and otherwise impossible.

  For most people, it would have been a breeze to book hotel accommodations, 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 widow 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.”