Butterfly Girl

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Butterfly Girl Page 29

by Rona Jameson

“FIVE MONTHS pregnant really suits you, Wren,” Uncle Silas says as he takes the seat beside me. “Do you have a name yet?”

  I turn my face away from the sun and grin like an idiot at my uncle. Both him and Marcel have been asking about whose name we will choose if it turns out we have a boy. They’ve been asking me since the day I found out I was pregnant.

  Actually, it was Marcel who asked us outright if I was pregnant. Rafael and I had been clueless, but excited and happy to realize our love had produced a child. Luckily, this news was discovered right after we’d graduated college—Rafael with a degree in architecture, and me with a degree in English literature. I am finished with school, but Rafael has another couple of years to complete his masters. I’m so proud of him for putting his talent to use. He has plans to build us our own home in ten years’ time.

  My own plan includes marrying his father off to the nice lady in town who blushes every time he enters her bakery. Her name is Rosemary, and she’s about Marcel’s age. She would be good for him. I worry that he would one day be lonely when we leave, although I’m not in any rush to move.

  “I’ve lost you?” Uncle Silas questions. “Your mother used to daydream all the time.”

  I smile and rest my head on his shoulder. “Will you invite Rosemary to the barbecue this weekend? I think she’s sweet on Marcel.”

  He laughs. “You are going to get yourself into trouble, my sweet niece.” He chuckles. “I’ll invite her.”

  I kiss his cheek. “Thank you.” I pause. “I just need to find someone for you.”

  He chokes on the swig of Jameson he’s just swallowed, and while he’s hacking his guts up, I continue, “Don’t worry. I’ve invited Vanessa from your office.”

  His eyes pop wide and I hold my belly while I laugh. “You should see your face.”

  “That is not funny, Wren,” he growls.

  “I think it is. She said she’s looking forward to it.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Um, yes.”

  “I don’t date people I work with,” he grumbles, but there is a slight smile on his lips.

  “As it’s a barbecue for your very early retirement from the DEA, then it won’t be a problem if Vanessa is here, showing off those long legs of hers. I’m aware you’ve noticed them.”

  He opens his mouth to say something, but no words are forthcoming.

  “What are you up to, dear wife?” Rafael looks between us and lifts me from my seat before settling me down on his lap. “You told Silas about Vanessa, huh?”

  I roll my eyes. “You knew I would. Besides, Uncle Silas doesn’t like surprises.”

  “Uncle Silas might have to find an excuse to miss his own retirement party,” my uncle mumbles.

  “I don’t believe a word of it. You’ll be there because she gets you all hot and bothered. I need a cousin to keep our baby company.”

  “Holy fuck, Wren!” Uncle Silas splutters and shoves himself up from the chair. Shaking his head, he says, “I think I’ll stick close to Marcel.” He chuckles as he moves away.

  “Do you think his hip gives him a lot of pain still?” Rafael asks.

  My eyes focus on Uncle Silas as he moves toward Marcel, a limp in his step. He’d taken two bullets for me—one in his hip, and one in his right shoulder. I think it’s always bothered me more than it has him about the way things worked out. Like he said, Ezequiel Gutiérrez is dead and can no longer harm me or anyone else. That had been his objective from the very beginning.

  Uncle Silas hadn’t only been working for the DEA, he knew all along that Ezequiel Gutiérrez had been responsible for Mom’s and Roman’s deaths. When he’d come into my hospital room and quickly explained his plan of drawing the man out, I had trusted him to keep me safe. I just hadn’t expected it to be by taking bullets meant for me. I’d have been dead if he hadn’t, though.

  “I think the fact that he took his vengeance helps with the physical pain he must feel. He did what he did for us all.”

  Rafael gently grabs hold of my chin and brings my face around to his.

  “You want my attention?” I whisper smoothly.

  “I’ll always want your attention, but I have news for you, and I want to see your face when I tell you.”

  I search his gaze.

  “The girls will be here for the baby shower.”

  Throwing my arms around my husband’s neck, I squeal in his ear. “Really? You managed to get them all here? For me?”

  “Well, you’re the only one pregnant that I know of.”

  “Funny.”

  “No, what would be funny is if you weren’t the only one pregnant.”

  “Now you’re being silly, considering I’m the only female here.”

  “We need a nap,” Rafael comments, sweeping me up into his arms. “Your sweet mouth saying pussy always makes me hard.”

  While he carries me through the garden, I think about the girls I met briefly but who understand the nightmares I still have. Both Pen and Jessica have both applied to the DEA while finishing up their criminal psychology degrees. Maria has been in Mexico, under the close eye of her father, but he has finally relented and agreed she can attend school in America next year.

  I’m really excited they will be here for mine and Rafael’s baby shower. They really are the only friends I have, and trust, other than my close family.

  FOUR MONTHS later I give birth to a beautiful baby girl. Sarah Louisa DeLacroix. My new butterflies hover at the window. We named her Sarah for my mom, when she’d been at her happiest, and Louisa for Rafael’s birth mother.

  My life is filled with more love than I ever knew existed, the kind my mother had found with Marcel.

  After the Reverend, I never thought I would want to be caught by anyone. Rafael has changed me. He belongs to me now, just like I belong to him.

  THE END

  TEARS IN THE RAIN

  WRITTEN AS RONA JAMESON

  Tears.

  That’s all I had now, tears in the rain, all because I fell in love with a boy.

  Growing up, he was always by my side—unmovable—even when his friends teased him. He always knew when I needed him closer. I’d wake from nightmares to find myself wrapped safely in his strong arms. I even asked him to teach me how to kiss a boy, and our love grew into something it never should have—something forbidden.

  My name is Fallon Scott and this is my story.

  Turn the page for the first few chapters.

  TEARS IN THE RAIN TEASER

  WRITTEN AS RONA JAMESON

  Rogan - Nine Years Old

  A TWIG SNAPPED behind us and I slowly dropped back, allowing Leon and Chase to continue ahead to the river. I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact Fallon had followed us. They’d just call my sister names—and me—even though they knew she liked hanging around with us. I always acted as though I didn’t care one way or the other, but in truth, I did care. Fallon was my sister and my best friend. Not that I’d admit that little fact to the guys any time soon. They would never understand why I wanted to spend time with her—sometimes I didn’t either.

  Fallon was thirteen months younger than me, but she was also a lot smaller. She reminded me of a fairy with the freckles across her cheeks and nose. She used to hate them until I told her they weren’t freckles but cinnamon sugar, her favorite pancake topping next to sprinkles.

  Tall grass rustled as she got closer, but I knew Fallon, and she wouldn’t be watching where she was going. She’d be watching us. My heart thumped hard in my chest while I quickly wondered what I could do to make sure Fallon wouldn’t get hurt without alerting the guys she was behind us.

  The decision was taken away from me when she let out a piercing scream. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as though I’d been electrocuted. Leon and Chase turned toward the sound, seconds before I turned and raced toward my sister, their footsteps pounded behind me.

  I almost stumbled into Fallon when I found her dancing around in the tall grass. Her face was stained
red and her eyes were puffy from the falling tears. She released her breath in big gulps and hiccups.

  “Her legs.” Chase gasped, pointing at the angry red blotches on her white legs.

  “Poison Ivy,” I mumbled, cursing. “Help her onto my back.” I turned and waited for Chase to lift her up. “I’ll get you home, Fallon.”

  I fastened my hands under her, taking her weight. “I’ll catch up to you both,” I told my friends.

  They looked between themselves, and then Chase offered a wry smile. “Of course you will.” He shook his head.

  “It hurts so bad, Rogan,” Fallon cried out. She tightened her arms around my neck, nearly cutting off my air supply.

  I ignored my two friends as I gave my sister a ride back to the house. For an eight-year-old, she was strong, as were her lungs, the sound ringing in my ears. I glanced down and winced at the red marks and white dots all over her legs. The sight spurred me on and I sprinted through the back gate and up the garden path, running straight into the house.

  Both Mom and Dad appeared from different directions when they heard the ruckus.

  “Poison Ivy!” I gasped, my breathing heavy. It had been far too long since I’d run so fast, and add Fallon’s weight and my panic, and I was sweating like a pig.

  Dad lifted Fallon from me and sat her on the kitchen table trying to calm her down. Mom grabbed the medical box for the magic cream she had in there. It worked on burns and stings.

  Eventually, Fallon calmed down, and holding a hand out toward me, asked, “Watch a movie with me?”

  I offered her a half smile and turned my back. “Climb on.”

  Dad chuckled and helped her up.

  I carried her to her bedroom and placed her gently on the bed, then I spent five minutes fiddling to get the Goonies to play. It was about one of the only movies we watched together—we’d seen it too many times to count. I didn’t care because she was my sister.

  Mine to protect.

  My best friend Chase knew how close I was to Fallon, even if he couldn’t understand why I would want to spend time with her. The thing was, Fallon and me, we’d always been close, especially with Mom and Dad working full-time, all the time. It had been the two of us since our parents had met and fell in love. I’d been three and Fallon two. Dad always said he’d promised to love Fallon as his own daughter the day he married her mom. He even gave Fallon our last name—Scott. We were growing up the best of friends, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  Leon, my other best friend, teased me often about Fallon, which got my temper going. Chase had to get between us recently so I wouldn’t punch Leon in the nose. It would have made me feel better for a short time, then, of course, I’d have felt bad.

  At the end of the day, family was family, and I’d always have Fallon beside me. I hoped to always have Chase and Leon as friends, but that could change. My sister was different and always would be.

  Turning, I found Fallon cuddled into the pillow with a picture of a beagle puppy on it. I chuckled and joined her on the opposite side of the bed. We stayed that way until the credits for the movie started to roll, and then I felt her hand slip into mine.

  “Rogan,” Fallon whispered, drawing my gaze to hers, “will you always be mine?”

  Our foreheads touched together. “You’ll always be mine, Fallon,” I replied, hoping nothing would ever change between us.

  Fallon - Thirteen Years Old

  As my social studies teacher droned on about English colonization, I got lost in my thoughts wondering whether or not I could get away with following my brother, Leon, and Chase to the diner after school.

  The center of Augusta, Maine wasn’t far from school, but Mom and Dad told us we had to go straight home today. Together. I was slightly confused by that because Rogan always made sure I never walked home alone. He felt strongly about it. So it made me wonder what he was up to.

  Ever since he and his friends turned fourteen they’d been into girls. Leon started to have problems with me hanging with them, but I didn’t get why. They hung out with other girls, so why not me as well? I think it was Leon who put Rogan up to leaving me out. Rogan felt bad, I could tell by the way he looked at me with an apology in his gaze. It wouldn’t have been Chase because he never really bothered one way or another.

  Woolgathering, as my mom would say, took up most of my class time, but that left me with no clue of what I was supposed to do for homework.

  And then I was saved.

  “Here.” Julia Quinn passed me a slip of paper. “I noticed you weren’t really in class.” She smirked.

  Surprised, I took the paper and looked down to see the homework assignment written on it.

  “Do you want to grab a coke after school?”

  Her eyes shot up at my spur-of-the-moment question. “Really?”

  I smiled. “Yes, really.” I’d known Julia since first grade, and we sat together during second, but hadn’t really become friends.

  Rogan said I needed to make some friends with girls. He’d stressed the word girls, which I found amusing.

  “Okay, let’s go.” Julia shouldered her backpack.

  Rogan wasn’t going to like me showing up.

  “Let me just tell my brother.”

  Julia stayed silent as she followed me outside and into the bright day. I started to sweat before we reached where Rogan, Leon, and Chase waited.

  “I’ll walk you home first,” Rogan said.

  “I’m getting a coke with Julia.”

  Rogan eyed my new friend and shook his head, a half smile on his lips. “Clever. Very clever.”

  “I thought so too.”

  “Let’s go.” Rogan turned and expected us to follow.

  Julia moved in beside me. “Are we really getting a coke with them?” she whispered, and I didn’t miss the excitement in her voice.

  “Probably not,” I admitted. “They’ll go off and do whatever they had planned. They don’t want Rogan’s little sister tagging along.”

  I was right too, except I didn’t understand why I was upset with Rogan for hanging out with a bunch of girls without me—but I now had a girlfriend.

  Rogan aged 17 / Fallon aged 16

  Rogan

  “Why does she have to come?” Leon grumbled and pointed at Fallon, his face going an ugly shade of red. “For once I’d like to do guy stuff and not have your sister tag along.”

  I got in Leon’s face. “Why can’t she hang around with us? She’s been with us for years.”

  “I don’t like it now that we’re older. What if we want to talk about girls or something? She’s going to run off and tell them what we said.”

  I blinked a few times before I let out a long-suffering sigh. I got what Leon was saying, but I considered Fallon part of the group, or at least I thought she was part of the group. Maybe to me she was but to them she wasn’t.

  I turned to Chase. “Do you feel the same way about Fallon?” I tried to calm down and didn’t, the flex of my hands as they tightened into fists was a giveaway.

  “It’s okay,” Fallon whispered as she moved to my side and put her hand on my wrist. “I’ll go.”

  I moved to hold Fallon with me, but she backed up, her eyes swimming with hurt.

  “It really is okay. I’ll go and hang out with Julia.” Fallon insisted, before turning and walking away. Her shoulders drooped, which worked me up even more.

  “I’m sorry,” Leon said, and he loudly exhaled. “You have to admit we can’t talk like we would if she wasn’t with us. And I really need to talk about something.”

  Chase laughed. “What is wrong with you? We’ve talked about all kinds of stuff in front of Fallon before. Why is now any different?”

  “Because,” Leon drawled, “I want to talk about her”—he pointed lower on his body and his cheeks went a bright shade of red—“um, you know?”

  My heart stopped and I stared at Leon wondering if I’d actually heard him correctly. The silence was loud but that was probably the blood pound
ing through my head. Chase shoved Leon. Leon blinked and cursed under his breath.

  “I didn’t mean hers.” Leon’s eyes popped wide. “I don’t know why I said it like that.” He quickly amended. “I want to talk about a particular girl’s…um—” He held his hands out and backed away from me. “I promise I don’t mean Fallon’s…um… Don’t punch me in the face. I have a date.”

  “Date?” I frowned, his last words stopping me from moving closer.

  “Yes…I have a date, which is what I want to talk about without Fallon listening.” Leon walked away and I glanced at Chase, who shrugged.

  “I don’t know anything more than you do.” Chase smirked. “I thought you were going to kill him for a minute there.” He grinned and wandered off.

  Chase wasn’t wrong. When Leon had mentioned Fallon and her…um…I wanted to knock Leon’s head off. No one thought about my sister in that way, let alone talked about her in that way.

  Ignoring my friends—if one of them was still my friend—I headed home. Fallon wouldn’t have gone to Julia’s house, not when she was upset. She’d have gone home and locked herself in her bedroom. I knew her well, and it hurt that one of my friends had hurt her. Leon had needed to talk, maybe ask questions knowing Leon, but he could have said something on the side without Fallon having heard.

  Pushing through the gate at the back of the garden, I spotted Uncle Frank helping Dad weed the garden. More accurately, Dad was weeding while Uncle Frank held a beer in one hand and the garden rake in the other. Sometimes I got the feeling Uncle Frank only came around for the free food and beer. My parents weren’t what you’d call well-off, but they worked hard, even though it still meant living paycheck to paycheck. Uncle Frank was jealous of what Dad had with Mom. I didn’t know why.

  Uncle Frank’s wife always seemed to do what he asked. And they had two kids who were five and seven years older than me. Fallon didn’t really get on with either of them.

  Shaking my head, I ignored Dad and Uncle Frank and rushed into the house. Mom was in the kitchen and gave me a look before nodding her head toward the stairs.

 

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