Peccatum in Carne: Sins of the Flesh (The Three Sins of Mallory Moore Book 1)

by Coco Mingolelli

  She shimmied out of her pants and crept alongside the gently snoring woman. A pillow had been thrown to the floor, which she picked up to tuck beneath her chest while waiting for Mallory to realize she'd come home.

  It didn't take long, though Dawn wasn't entirely sure if the quiet murmurs she heard were sleep-talking at first.

  "'Amare," Mallory blurted out, but it was soon followed by another snore.

  The first smile in over three days crept across Dawn's lips at her name being spoken instinctively. "Yes, Mallory?"

  "-'m here," Mallory recited drowsily, as if having a conversation within a dream.

  Snuggling just a bit closer, Dawn felt tension melt away from her muscles as her own eyelids began to droop in fatigue. "I'm here, too.”

  Though it would have been heavenly to slide into the sublime comfort of sleep next to her love, the sun became brighter and brighter through the bedroom window as the minutes passed. Resigning herself to simply relax wasn't a hardship, though. Her breathtakingly beautiful woman burrowed into the space around Dawn, unconsciously draping a leg closer.

  A delicate ankle slid to rest upon her own, and Dawn felt their pulses coalesce over the next few minutes. Soon, they thrummed in time from the contact.

  Her gaze traveled upwards from their entwined legs, and to the soft rise and fall of Mallory's back as she slept. Contentment filled her heart as she watched, for the simple fact that the exhalations meant that the woman was alive. It meant that those who had sought to end these precious moments had failed, and not her.

  Now Dawn's thoughts turned to whether she could convince Mallory that they were winning this uphill battle together. Over the course of their relationship's different incarnations, one theme had always been attempting to save the other. If they were going to not only survive this, but live happily afterward, then they needed to be a united front.

  There was little that frightened Dawn more than losing Mallory.

  She had been so very afraid of life before Mallory Moore drew her out of a hastily constructed shell of denial. Therefore, Dawn was resolved to do the very same in return. Loving the woman passionately came as second nature. It didn't require a decision so much as it required following the invisible tether that seemed to bloom from her chest, connecting to her fiercest protector.

  When first dropped off at the steps of St. Augusta's by her father, Dawn had been closed off to the aspects of life that mattered more than oneself. It had almost been for her own good; growing up in Steven's household required a certain level of detachment to keep from going crazy for the need of love. It was easier to become cold and outwardly shy to mask the pain from so many years of his yelling, her mother's tears, and the nannies' chafing strictness.

  The fact that Mallory had determinedly sought to open her up, bit by bit, until given the chance to throw open the doors of Dawn's heart spoke of her vast affection, and love.

  Mallory could be selfless, and yet so very selfish – all at the same time.

  An arm drew up from the bed to encircle Dawn's body.

  Mallory's eyelids blinked rapidly, and she grunted in irritation. She was trying to wake up, but was having trouble doing so.

  "It's okay," Dawn whispered. "Go back to sleep. I'm just resting."

  '-and thinking... a lot.' She'd spent nearly a half hour trying to rationalize how there was no way Mallory told the truth on the stand. She wasn't the kind of person to lie without a very good reason. She was dignified, and benevolent, and...

  But then, a niggling bit of doubt made itself known in the recesses of Dawn's mind. The note that Mallory had scribbled while at the hospital two days after Lenny Brewster almost killed her refused to be brushed under the rug.

  Once Mallory began to snore softly again, Dawn slipped out of the bed and crept along the floor to a bag that carried her college applications, and the strange letter. She pulled it out, flinching when the paper crinkled noisily in the silence.

  The revelations from Mallory's testimony made it read so much more differently than before. It made so much more sense.

  “Dawn,

  I've always been the type of person that says too much, and yet not enough. In that vein, I apologize for the length of this note, as well as the scattered way my words seem to come.

  From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were made for me, and I for you. I truly had no idea why until much later, but you seemed to sense it too. Perhaps that is my own wishful thinking, but you always call my bluff, and know when I am being secretive or manipulative. Never one to call my own actions into question, for I trust myself and myself only in this life, I was pleased to be your instructor, your guide, and then your lover.

  But then what was the purpose of my own game? I saw you as something to conquer; or at least, whatever was holding you down. I knew that the chance to win was slim.

  Until most recently, I rather liked who I had become. But what am I to do with who I've been? To see the shadow of myself sitting there, happy with the empty life I'd given it, put more fear into my heart than I'd ever experienced before.

  How could I do the same to you? How can I reconcile gifting you with this life, full of danger and pain?

  When I found out who you were, my purpose in this world became so very clear. When you are taken from me, by my own pushing away or dragged from my hands by another, it pushes an invisible knife so deep that it completes a slow kill begun so many years ago.

  I doubt you would understand what it is like to watch yourself die more and more each day, while birthing a whole new woman at the same time. Turning your own life on end, and the perilous situation I've put you in, is as close an approximation as I would ever want you to know.

  And for that, I need to go away from you, if only for a little while. You are still so very innocent, my love. You are my innocence.

  I know, much of what has occurred was done by me, or at least set off by my own actions. If I'd had the courage to let you be when you flew from me the first time, I might have merely mourned you, and tried to forget fate. It was my mistake not to, but I did not understand how very much you mean to me.

  Oh, but I did understand. I knew so long ago, and herein lies my dilemma. I know it was wrong, and that my own suffering is due to my own sins. My thin disguise only prolonged the inevitable, and now you know the cruelest parts of my pain. Now you know the depraved nature of your father, a thing no daughter should ever have to be forced to accept. I'd merely set out to save you from that, or at least lessen the blow-"

  A tear rolled down Dawn's cheek. She gripped the note so roughly that it began to crinkle much more loudly than before, and the noise was soon followed by the rustling of sheets.

  Looking up, she saw Mallory propped on her elbows, and leaning against a hand.

  Mallory gazed back and forth from the missive to Dawn's face, wary and sad.

  "You lied." Dawn was incredulous that she had missed this huge piece of information all along.

  Mallory licked her lips. "Not quite.”

  Dawn shook the note in the direction of the bed. "You either lied to me, or you lied to the court."

  Still, Mallory's reply was vague. "That's not precisely how I would put it."

  "Then explain it to me!" Dawn yelped, leaping to her feet. She began to pace.

  A minute passed, and there was still no words of defense or explanation from Mallory. Finally, she sat up in bed, and reached out towards Dawn, in an attempt to keep her from wearing a hole in the carpet.

  Her face gave away that she felt agonized, and all Dawn could think was that it was a fitting punishment, either way. Emotions that she had withheld for far too long threatened to burst forth at the painful realization that the teacher's deceptions could extend to her, even after she had let the earlier transgression of hiding her true identity slide.

  That particular information wasn't withheld out of malice, but this? This she wasn't sure about. She did not go towards the bed, but stopped pacing to lean against the closet door, and
cross her arms. "For someone who is so calculated with everyone else, you sure are laying it on thick with me."

  Mallory's outstretched hand retracted like she'd been burned. She looked down at the sheets that had fallen from her torso, and lifted them back up, shielding her nakedness. "I always – " she paused, disagreeing with such an implicit description. "– I endeavor to always be truthful with you, darling one. My emotions are included in that."

  Dawn snorted, and began to turn away.

  "But – "

  The severe quality of Mallory's rejoinder had Dawn turning right back to face her. It irked her that just one word when properly toned could hold such power, and she huffed.

  At almost the appropriate respect shown her with the action, Mallory gentled. She did not want to be misunderstood, not when it mattered the most. "But, I have never wanted to cause you pain."

  Rubbing at her thigh, she continued. "I may have... stretched the truth in court, to get a rise out of your father. Lord knows he deserves that, and far more from me," Mallory held her arms out wide. "It is true that I knew who he was when I saw him in the hallway that day. I just didn't know what he had done to me, or my parents. I only suspected, and had done for a very long time. I also suspected that he was your father, and a quick peek at your student file told me as much."

  Dawn felt like she had gone down a rabbit hole. "I don't understand..."

  "Let me finish, please," Mallory interrupted in a show of temper, but only for a moment. Being exasperated with Dawn wouldn't solve anything. "Do you honestly think that fifteen years went by without my grandparents' firm doing their own private investigation? That I wouldn't wonder who had done this to me?"

  Her hand traveled broadly from her neck to where toes peeked from beneath the blankets. Not waiting for an answer, she rambled on, becoming more awake and animated as time passed. "My parents were not well liked for their convictions, Dawn. There were a few outspoken groups of competitors that the firm focused on, and your father's was one. They doubted it was him, because I honestly didn't remember Steven being at my birthday party, or what happened that night past being dragged from beneath my bed until... recently. I knew what had happened, but not how."

  "It is – " a hitching breath paused her discourse. "It is horrifying to know how damaged you are, but without much recollection as to why. I only had my gut feelings and intuition to go on for so long, and while its served me well, emotions are hardly one hundred percent accurate."

  The misery evident in Mallory's voice when she described how the one thing she relied on to navigate the world was not something she could trust explicitly was so very sad. Dawn's lover had described herself as the only person that she could ever trust in the letter, and yet here she admitted, that trust was faulty at best.

  She took a step forward from the closet door, and decided that sitting at the writing desk would be better for both of them. The emotional climate swirling the room was tense, and she hated it.

  Once Dawn sat down, Mallory released a huge sigh, and allowed her eyes to close. Her eyelashes were noticeably damp. "Thank you.”

  Guilt ebbed at the edges of Dawn's mind, threatening to wash away her anger like a wave against sand. She pushed the feeling away, and tucked her knees up beneath her chin while in the chair. "Sorry. I'm mad at you, but I'd never leave. Not forever, anyway."

  That admission made a sarcastic little smile crack across Mallory's lips. "And there you have it: the reason I feel so wicked for keeping you."

  That piqued Dawn's interest, and she sat up a little more. "You feel guilty for keeping me because I'd never leave?"

  "Mmmm," Mallory hummed, and nodded. She stretched her leg out and over the side of the bed, grunting as her thigh flexed. The other leg followed suit, and she scooted to sit on the edge of the mattress, closing the space between them.

  She continued to grasp the edge of the sheet up to her chest, the cotton draping over her. "I knew something was amiss with your home life Dawn, something that was drowning your light. Your last name isn't precisely common, but as I said, I made sure my suspicions were correct. It made me feel even more protective of you, especially when you begged to be hidden in that day. My gut told me many things the day your father and Oliver came down that hall, and again when I went to pick up some of your things."

  Dawn thought she had an inkling of what the answer would be."What did your gut tell you?"

  "It told me that your father was as I had always read about him. Cruel, and positively evil," her lover bit back.

  "It told me to follow you, to never let him to take you away. It is why I trailed you into the forest the night of the party, and why I took you home. When the police called me to the station to tell me that your father was implicated in the... murders, I was faced with two very unpleasant choices. Should I continue to keep you safe, or should I push you away because I was livid that the girl I had protected was the progeny of the man that had taken everything dear to me?"

  Uncomfortable with the conundrum, Dawn blurted out what came to mind first. "You did tell me to go away that night. Screamed it, actually."

  "I did. I've pushed you away several times. But every time, I have gone after you. At first, it was because I coveted you, amare - your sweetness, your purity. When I knew what your father had done, it made me want to possess you even more," Mallory admitted.

  "But I loved you then, and I love you still. My covetousness turned into treasuring you, but it never really made the guilt go away. Then, the night in the forest... when I hurt you; I could no longer pretend that the hatred I felt for your father did not color what I felt for you. It always has, even when I didn't remember everything." Her mouth twisted into a grimace, and she fell silent.

  While her memories may have returned, and the pieces of her shattered mind being put back together piece by painful piece, Mallory still didn't feel entirely comfortable revealing to Dawn what happened in those moments of unconsciousness.

  "So, you gave me a chance to be free. You went away this time, and tried to tell me in the letter, but – " Dawn slumped against her chair as she followed along.

  "But again, I failed at complete disclosure. My words, they twist so." Mallory was visibly ashamed. "I fear that so many years of duplicity has addled me to that sorry point, but there it is."

  "You seemed so surprised when you found out it was my father, though," Dawn scoffed under her breath. "You were furious."

  Mallory's shoulders shrugged in an instinctual way. She released her grip on the sheet, and it fell a bit from where it wasn't tucked beneath her arms. Looking down at her hands quieted her response.

  "I was more furious at myself, you silly creature." She tsked. "Infuriated with myself for not seeing the writing on the wall, as it were. I felt like such a blithering idiot, especially for allowing you to get so close to me; for allowing you of all people to crawl inside my heart to make a nest. Letting you go at that point would have been excruciating, for I already loved you so much."

  Dawn was familiar with shame, and recognized it in the way the words spilled forth. The validation of Mallory's love, even through all of the times she could have scorned her, made her smile despite herself. "You still lied to the court, then."

  Mallory quirked her lips. "I didn't lie, not really. I just didn't explain it to them as I have to you; a small technicality.”

  The appearance of a smile on Dawn's face had her spirits lifting by its mere presence, thinking that their moment of crisis had passed. She must have expected it not to go this easily, knowing the testimony would reveal that something was amiss.

  When the silence stretched between them for a few beats, Mallory could no longer hold back. She wanted reassurance that her honesty was not in vain, and reached out again towards Dawn. "Please. Please, amare..."

  Dawn unfolded herself, standing up to grasp the hand offered. "I'm still mad at you," she warned. She tried to adopt the best imitation possible of Mallory's sternest glares, but her lips wavered from a smile, i
nto a frown, and back again. "Very, very mad."

  "Duly noted – Mmf!" Mallory's teasing was hushed with the sudden pressing of lips upon her own.

  As Dawn straddled her, and kissed even more fervently in an attempt to receive the same back, Mallory's lips ached to give in kind. Her mind, on the other hand, raced with a million reasons why going along with this was a bad idea. They had only just finished hashing out something particularly distressing, and she knew it was what fueled the brashness.

  Dawn sought to cover up the hurt she must be feeling, and the stress. The trial was far from over, and so many more things that might upset them could come up.

  Sensing the reluctance, Dawn did not stop. She merely slowed the shower of kisses, and moved across the edge of Mallory's jaw, up to the edge of her ear to nip at the lobe. She hadn't thought it out very much, and tried not to groan in disappointment when she felt pushing at her shoulders.