Butterfly Girl

by Rona Jameson

  I find myself wondering if she is on B or one. Swearing, I curse myself for wasting time thinking about it, and head for stairwell. Dad catches up to me as I push through the door. “I think I know which floor they’re on. And it has a delivery ramp.”

  The pounding of our feet echoes throughout the stairwell as we race down it. I don’t know whether we should slow down to be quiet or hurry it up before we lose the chance of finding her.

  “Have you called Silas? He was outside,” I ask Dad.

  “I don’t have a good signal in here.” He huffs, his breathing heavy. It doesn’t slow him down, though.

  Bursting through the door, I have no idea which way to go. They could be anywhere.

  “You go that way.” Dad points. “I’ll go this way.” His worried gaze meets mine. “You have your weapon?”

  I nod.

  “Be careful, son.” He pulls me against him and kisses my forehead, and then he’s gone.

  Turning, I head to the left and freeze when I turn down another hallway. Silas and Wren are facing a man I haven’t seen before. There’s a large scar covering part of his face and he’s wearing an expensive tailored suit.

  Silas curses when he spots me out of the corner of his eye. Wren’s eyes light up, but then I see panic well in the beautiful blue depths. “Rafael, go!” she cries.

  My legs feel as though they’ve turned into stone pillars and I can’t move even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I’m not leaving her again. Never again.

  “You’re here, Wren. I’m staying.” I pause and get a better look at the situation. “What the fuck, Silas?”

  “This asshole is the one who killed my sister!” Silas waves his gun around, which I’m only noticing now. “Ezequiel Gutiérrez knew the Reverend had found Joy and Roman, so he told Wild to kill them. He was supposed to kill you and your father too, Rafael.”

  He breathes heavily and points the gun at the other man, who I believe is the one Jeremiah is looking for. He too has a gun and it’s pointed directly at Silas’s head.

  “Then I hope you do us all a favor and kill the bastard because none of us will be safe if you don’t,” I growl as I remove my gun from the back of my jeans.

  Silas narrows his eyes slightly and Wren gasps. “Rafael, please don’t do this,” she begs. “You’ll have to live with it for the rest of your life. Please do not kill him.”

  “You know what I said is true.” My hand trembles as I hold my weapon. “He will keep coming after you if he isn’t stopped now.” I glance at Silas. “He knows that too.”

  “I have had enough of this. All I want is the girl and you won’t ever see me again,” Ezequiel says. “Let Wren come to me.”

  “He’s not handing her over to you.” I sneer, which turns into disbelief when I notice the look of sorrow on Silas’s face. “You can’t be serious? That isn’t happening. Dad’s gone outside to call for backup. This place is going to be swarming with agents and cops soon.” I hope.

  Right at this moment, I’m not sure what the hell is going on because it looks like Silas is ready to hand Wren over to him.

  While I’m trying to contemplate my next move, Silas shoves Wren toward me. Ezequiel quickly moves his gun so it’s on Wren. Adrenaline pumping through me, I dive for Wren as there are three shots fired.

  Silence follows and all I’m aware of is that Wren is under me. Her fingers hold onto my T-shirt as though she’s never going to let me go. I must be crushing her, but when I make to move from her, she clings tightly. Assessing the situation, I turn my head and see Ezequiel is on the floor unmoving, so is Silas.

  I finally manage to break the tight hold Wren has on me. My eyes quickly search her face and body, looking for proof she’s unharmed. “Did you get hit?” I run my free hand up and down her body, she captures it with hers.

  “No. I’m fine.” She turns her head and sees Silas. “Uncle Silas.” She wiggles free and goes to him.

  “Rafael,” Dad shouts as he comes around the corner. Seeing me safe, he wraps me in a hug while Jeremiah and a SWAT team move forward and check Ezequiel—he’s dead.

  A medical team drops beside Silas and starts working on him. I tuck my gun into the back of my jeans before reaching for Wren and pulling her into my arms. “I love you,” I whisper against her neck. “I fucking love you, Wren.” Tears fall from my eyes as I’m full of so much emotion. I don’t know how to express to her my relief that I have her in my arms.

  Dad squeezes my shoulder, and asks, “What happened down here?”

  Pulling myself together, I make sure to keep hold of Wren and explain what happened in the hallway.

  Dad mumbles when I finish and, turns his gaze to Wren. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “That goes for me too,” Jeremiah says, pulling me in for a brief hug. He says to Wren, “Good to see you again.”

  She nods slightly.

  “The coast guard boarded the boat. Ken and three others have been arrested. The DEA has them,” Jeremiah adds, and I watch Dad because he used to work with Ken. His betrayal must hurt.

  Wren squeezes me and, leaving my arms, hugs my Dad. She catches him by surprise, but he soon returns her hug, a delighted blush coating his cheekbones before she’s back in my arms.

  Swallowing hard, Dad says, “I want you to hear this from me, Wren, so that there is no misunderstanding or worry on your part, okay?”

  She nods and I frown wondering if he’s about to tell her about the Reverend, but that isn’t something where there would be room for misunderstanding.

  “From this point forward, you are living with us. That isn’t up for negotiation.” He smiles. “We good?”

  “Yes,” she says. “The Reverend?”

  “We’ll talk about him later.” Dad moves away to talk to Jeremiah.

  I hold Wren’s face and gently kiss her sweet lips before resting my forehead against hers. Her eyes search mine and then she asks, “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “I’m sorry, Wren.”

  48

  WREN

  I HAD REFUSED to stay in the hospital and just wanted to be wherever Rafael was, which is Port Michael for the day while they clear the house out.

  My nerves tingle with excitement and fear as Rafael pulls the baseboard Silas had told me about away from the wall. Silas had been adamant from his hospital bed that I collect the lockbox and keep it safe. He wants me to see my family history and to know who my mother really was. Rafael is nervous too because he had her as a mother longer than I did at an age where he remembers, while I still don’t.

  To our surprise it comes away with ease.

  “I found something,” he murmurs, drawing my gaze.

  Dust from crumbling plaster rises up from the hole he’s made and covers the slim metal lockbox. He wipes it off with his T-shirt before nervously passing it to my waiting hands.

  Silas told me my mom had put the box in here when she was fifteen, like a time capsule. They both added to it over the years. It turns out the house Sarah had left Marcel had once belonged to her parents, and when they’d died, they had left it to Silas and Sarah. Since everyone thought Silas was dead, it became the sole property of Joy Jacobs. The Reverend hadn’t known about it at the time, but if he had, he wouldn’t have been able to take it from her. Marcel hadn’t known about it either, until Sarah had died. What a web we weave.

  “Wren,” Marcel says my name, and helps me to my feet, “come and sit.”

  Rafael follows and crouches beside my legs as I place the metal box on the coffee table. The lock is hanging off, so we have no difficulty opening the lid.

  The first thing we all see is a piece of folded yellow legal notepaper with my name written in cursive. I frown wondering how that is possible and, swallow the lump of emotion in my throat as I carefully remove it from the box. I smooth my fingers over the paper before carefully opening it.

  Tears fill my eyes and the paper slips from my fingers, fluttering to the floor beside Rafael. He hesitates and then retrieves it, off
ering it back to me. I shake my head. “Will you read it?”

  His eyes are full of life, pain, and unquenchable warmth as I hold his gaze. He slowly nods and clears his throat. “It’s not really a letter, more like scribbled thoughts, I think. Maybe she was in a rush.”

  Can Wren be alive?

  How is that possible?

  I saw her pale. Unbreathing.

  She’s always been close to my heart.

  Hidden inside the locket.

  The girl in the garden looked like my Wren.

  She always had butterflies around her.

  Like the girl outside of ‘his’ house.

  I want to speak to her.

  To find out her name.

  It can’t be Wren.

  But what if it is?

  I need to know more.

  It’s too dangerous.

  I’m risking everything coming back to this house.

  I have to find out if she’s my daughter.

  I’ll come back another day.

  Bring Marcel with me.

  WREN, please forgive me.

  I love you.

  “What’s the date at the top?” Marcel asks, his voice broken.

  My mind is whirling with this new information, and I don’t know how I should feel. I can hear in Marcel’s voice that those words cause him pain. I lift my gaze to Rafael and his eyes are red-rimmed. I reach out for Marcel and pull him down next to me, I then take Rafael’s arm and urge him to sit on my opposite side. We all need comfort today.

  “A week before she died,” Rafael whispers, and pauses. “Do you think she was seen and that’s how they found out where we lived?” He lifts his hand to the chain around his neck and opens the locket.

  “I want to say no, but I really don’t know. I think Wild did keep track of her all these years. Maybe for his own game or for the Reverend’s, no one will ever know now.” Marcel’s arm goes around my shoulders and he hugs me to him. “You know what this means, Wren? It means your mother had discovered you were alive. She planned on finding out the truth, but never got the chance.”

  After looking this way and that, Rafael tries to peel the photograph of him, his dad, and brother from the locket, and there, hidden behind is a picture of a man holding a child—Uncle Silas and me. I have pigtails and a toothy grin.

  “She kept us all close to her heart.” Marcel closes his eyes and slowly exhales. “She used to say that everyone she loved was inside the locket. I had no idea how true that was.”

  Rafael slips the photograph he removed to the opposite side of the locket and closes it. His hands reach up as though to remove it. “It’s yours now, Wren.”

  I shake my head, tears in my gaze. “No. You’ve kept it close for three years. It’s at home right where it is.” I kiss his cheek, and say, “Let’s see what else is in the box.”

  Rafael brings it to his lap and slowly goes through the other items in the box, passing them to me and his father. There are baby pictures of me and of me as a small child before the Reverend faked my death. The letters Uncle Silas had told me about—to him and from him. I can’t wait to read her thoughts before she knew the Reverend. Then there are newer images. Pictures of Marcel, Rafael, and Roman. There’s a larger image, a group photograph of the four of them, with an image of me as a child stuck onto it. Surrounding us all in a red marker is a large heart drawn around us, and to the side it says #myheart.

  As the image is passed to Marcel, I pull Rafael to me and hold him while his father holds me. I had no idea I had so many tears to shed but I can’t stop them. We are all crying.

  More than anything this image says everything. Sarah had loved us all, and she’d even included me in this family image. It means everything to me.

  With no more tears to cry, I allow Rafael to wipe my face with a cold washcloth. It’s refreshing, although I have no doubt my eyes are red and puffy. He pulls me up to my feet and I catch a glimpse of two photographs remaining in the bottom of the tin. They are both face down and one has faint writing on it. I lift it out and hold it closer. To Joy. I miss you like crazy. Love from your brother, Silas. My heart is in my throat reading those words. Turning it over, I catch my breath. It’s a photograph of Uncle Silas in his uniform as a US Marine. Silent tears slip down my face, but I smile through them. “We have to make sure Uncle Silas gets this back.” I pause and look at the other image of Mom with Uncle Silas. “He looks like a new marine in this one. Mom’s a kid.”

  Marcel studies the photograph. “Sarah would have been eight or nine when that was taken. Silas was ten years older.” He moves off into the kitchen and Rafael takes my hand and leads me outside to the front porch for some fresh air.

  The wind blows through my hair while my butterflies hover before my eyes. Tiger Lily flutters his wings and I feel him settle on the top of my head. The rest take flight over the fence toward my glasshouse.

  “My butterfly girl,” Rafael whispers, placing a hand on my back as I watch the color of my butterflies blend together until they’re like a moving rainbow. They’ve always given me peace, now more than ever.

  EPILOGUE 1

  RAFAEL

  “FOUR YEARS.” I whimper, my words cut off as she takes me into her body, rising above me like a goddess. “I forgot what else I was going to say.” My hands find her hips and I hold her still because the moment she moves I won’t be able to be good.

  “Don’t say anything right now. Just keep your hands on my hips, your fingers spread wide over my bottom, and your cock long and thick while you watch me ride you.”

  I practically swallow my tongue as she starts undulating on my cock, her sweet, wet pussy stroking along the hard flesh. I’m buried so deep inside of her that her little clit gets tickled by my pubic hair. While I’m trying to hold still and let her have her way, she raises her arms and holds her long hair on the top of her head. I groan, pleasure zapping along my dick at the feel of her surrounding me. Her swollen tits sway in my face, her nipples hard, tight buds begging to be touched.

  Removing one hand from her, I caress and pinch at her aroused flesh and watch her eyes narrow as soft moans escape her mouth. Lengthening, getting ready to explode, my cock quivers in anticipation. I tickle her baby bump with my fingers and feel the ripples and goose bumps my touch cause. She’s extra sensitive all over with the pregnancy, not to mention horny all the time. I sure as hell have no complaints.

  “Rafael, touch me,” she begs, her hips frantic.

  The moment my finger presses against that sensitive spot, her tummy goes rock solid and she’s coming so damn hard that she pulls the semen from my body. I sit up and wrap my arms around her hips, holding her down on me while I empty inside her quivering body.

  Having her crushed against my chest, her nipples hard bullets, I release one more time before I gasp for breath.

  Wren goes limp in my arms, so I cradle her against me, and lie us both down on the bed. I slip from her body and keep her wrapped tightly in the cocoon of my arms. She wiggles closer and wraps a leg over my hip, pulling herself closer still. My dick, once again, rests between her legs and slowly hardens as she rubs all over me. “It’s going to fall off if you keep doing that,” I comment.

  She giggles and slips a hand between us, wrapping her fingers around my erection. “I want to feel you inside me.” Guiding me to her entrance, she presses down and I help her by arching upward.

  I close my eyes and pray for sanity.

  “That’s better.” She sighs softly. “I’ll take a nap now.”

  My eyes pop open. “A nap? You’ve got me all excited again, and you want a nap?”

  She grins. “I am sleepy, but you feel really, really good inside my body.”

  I grab her bottom and hold her still. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Rolling her eyes, she adds, “I’m five months pregnant, Rafael. You don’t need to ask me that every time we have sex.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You never hurt me.” She kisses my ches
t and nips with her teeth. “I can’t help it. You only have to brush past me, and all I want to do is take you down to the floor and get into your jeans.”

  I grin and laugh. “I don’t think Dad would be impressed.” I pinch a nipple and feel her pussy contract around me. “Hmm,” I mutter and roll her onto her back, pulling her legs up around my hips.

  Clenching my teeth, I press forward until there is no gap between us. I rock my hips from side to side, feeling her get wetter and wetter. I dip down and, capturing a large extended nipple with my mouth, suck and pull.

  “Oh!” Wren moans, her body contracting around me.

  “Come for me, Wren.”

  Switching nipples, I roll and pinch them, stimulating both—one with my mouth and one with my fingers. Wren tries to wiggle her hips, but mine are holding her pinned to the bed. She reaches up and digs her fingers into my arms, arching upward as she comes. She is so fucking beautiful in the middle of her orgasm. Her body flushes and the tiny noises she makes drives me insane, but with the way her body pulls and sucks on my cock as she comes, I don’t have a shot at lasting.

  I pull halfway out, thrust home, and come so hard my eyes roll.

  EPILOGUE 2

  WREN