“Why do you keep asking me that?”
“Tell me, kitten. Who do you see?” He grabs my chin with his fingers.
I open my eyes. “I see Ryder and Jayson.”
He nods once and steps away. “Then there’s your answer.”
Damn him, he’s right. Again. I can’t go back until I know who I am, who I want to be, and who I want to be with.
“What if it’s too much for them? What if by finding who I am, I lose both of them?”
“What if Starbucks gets rid of my favorite chocolate caramel latte? Who the fuck cares, Elizabeth? Grow a goddamn spine and woman the fuck up. Make a choice. Make a decision. Let me help you. Otherwise, pack your shit up and leave. I’m not your damn babysitter.”
Fallon’s words are like a sledgehammer hitting a thumb tack. The elevator doors open to our suite and he stalks off leaving me standing there. Alone. The doors begin to close. I throw my hand out to stop them.
“Fallon, wait!” I run after him. He slows and turns around, his facial expression unreadable. I’m used to cocky Fallon, asshole Fallon, crazy Fallon, and weird Fallon. I’m not used to this Fallon.
“I’m womaning the fuck up,” I say breathlessly.
He cocks his head, and it reminds me of those times before when he would look at me and do just that. Those times when Old Elizabeth was wary and unsure of him. But I’m not.
“No more bullshit?” he says.
“No more bullshit,” I agree.
“You’ll follow my rules and stop being a sneaky bitch?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“Good girl. Let’s order some breakfast.”
“I hope they have your favorite chocolate caramel latte,” I tease.
“Shut the fuck up,” he replies with a crooked grin, and I laugh.
I officially both love and hate New York City. I love that there are endless things to do. I love the hustle and bustle of the culture. I love how when you turn a corner, there’s something interesting to see. What I do not love is all of the people. I’m a small-town girl and this huge city is just crazy-packed full of people. You walk down the street and you’re surrounded by people. You go into a restaurant—same thing. Go into a store—more people. I wanted to see the infamous New York City subway system, but as soon as we got underground, I turned Fallon around and walked us right back the way we came. Crowds of bodies packed like sardines in small, confined spaces is a huge no for me. I decided New York City is like an ant colony. Thousands upon thousands of little ants all bumping into each other but still getting their jobs done.
This morning, Fallon took me sightseeing. In Times Square, I got to jam with a street band and learned how to play the steel drum. He kept his promise about our second deal and found a local women’s shelter that we visited for a few hours. They allowed me to sit and talk with some of the women who were staying there, many of them with small children. The women told me their stories. Stories filled with abuse and pain. I felt every word they spoke to me. They humbled me and strengthened my resolve to do more for women like them. Women like me. Women like my sister, Hailey. Women who lived through incredible trauma but fought back and survived, not just for themselves but for their children. I wish I could have fought harder for Elizabeth Ann. I wish I could have fought harder for Hailey.
Once I’m finished talking with the women in the center, I go in search of Fallon. I find him out in the center’s courtyard shooting hoops with a few of the younger boys. I stay hidden in the shadows along the wall and watch. Fallon doesn’t smile much, but when he does, it’s breathtaking. I watch him joke and smile with the younger boys, and every single one of them absorbs his attention like sunshine. Fallon will make a great father one day. If I told him so, he’d more than likely vehemently disagree with me and tell me to fuck off with that typical Fallon smirk, but I see him. I know there is more to the man than the façade he carries. Deep down he feels more than most people. He cares.
The day is overcast and cold enough that you can see the cloud of your breath when you exhale. I love the feel of the cold, crisp air as it tingles a slight burn when it fills my lungs. It’s not uncommon to get snow in New York in November. I wonder if we’ll see it snow before we leave for Iceland tomorrow. I know we’ll definitely see snow in Reykjavik.
“You’ve got a very nice young man there,” the director of the women’s center, Janice Berkeley, says beside me.
“Oh, we’re just friends,” I reply. “But yes, he is. He doesn’t allow many people to see it though.”
“His generous donation to the center will help fund so many programs.”
I turn my head to gawk at her. “He made a donation?”
Janice smiles and nods, not saying anything more. She pats my hand and thanks me for talking with the residents. She tells me they enjoyed spending time with me, then walks back inside leaving me alone to watch Fallon and the younger boys.
“There she is,” Fallon calls out. “Get over here, kitten.”
I hear one of the boys ask, “Her name is kitten? What a stupid name.”
“Hey, little dude. No disrespecting my woman. Got it?” My approaching steps falter when I hear him say that.
The young boy looks down at the ground. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I swear.”
“I know you didn’t. Always remember though, words can hurt as much as punches.” Fallon claps the boy on the shoulder with gentle encouragement.
I make my way over to their group. There are five of them including Fallon, and the boys look to be around the ages of ten to fifteen.
“Hey guys,” I cheerfully say.
“Kitten here can be our sixth man. What do you say? A little three on three?”
“But she’s a girl,” the boy with the gap teeth and curly black hair says. “They don’t know how to play basketball.”
“Oh, we don’t, do we?” I grin and take the ball from Fallon. Old Elizabeth was never athletic, but New Elizabeth sure as hell is. I shot a lot of hoops at the rehab facility I was at in Seattle, mostly when I was bored, but it helped with my strength training and flexibility.
I take off my winter coat and gloves and lay them on the ground. I dribble the ball a few times, then pivot and shoot it in a high arc. It swishes through the net with ease. The boys start whooping and cheering. Fallon just does his little head cock at me.
“Nice,” he says.
“She’s on my team,” the gap-toothed boy tells everyone. I learn his name is Devon. He adds Trevaughn to round out our team of three. Fallon’s team includes a cute blond boy named Butch with thick, round black glasses, and Seamus, an older, taller mocha-skinned boy with green eyes like mine. We decide the first team that gets to ten points wins.
My team wins the coin toss and has possession of the ball. Fallon towers over all of us at slightly over six feet tall. He steals the ball from Devon and passes it to Seamus who does a lay-up for an easy two points.
My team scores the next four points thanks to some awesome footwork and ball passing between Devon and Trevaughn. Fallon then shoots a three-pointer. His team is up five-to-four. Devon fouls Butch allowing him two free throws. He misses one but gets the other. My team is now down six-to-four.
Devon runs in front of Seamus to steal the pass from Fallon. Devon passes it to me, but Fallon blocks my way. I fake and pivot and land a three-pointer off the backboard. That gets me high fives from my teammates because we’re up seven-to-six. I wipe my brow with the sleeve of my sweater because I’m sweaty and hot, despite the cold outdoor temperature. I glance over to Fallon who’s huddled with his team. He looks up, sees me looking at him, and gives me a wink.
“Okay, boys. It’s time to show them who’s the best,” he says.
“I’m sorry. Are you talking about us? Thanks for the compliment!” I yell back.
Fallon bounce-passes the ball to Butch who performs a perfect jump shot for two more points.
“Dammit,” Trevaughn says.
“Hey, teamie, we’ve g
ot this,” I reply, and we fist bump.
I hand the ball to Trevaughn. He does a between-the-legs dribble then passes it backward to me. I’m at the three-point line. If I make this shot, my team wins. I grip the ball and plant my feet ready to let the ball fly when I feel hands come down on my hips, pulling me backward. I stumble and begin to fall over to the side, but Fallon moves one of his hands from my hips to my back, so we end up in a dancer’s closed position.
“I call foul.” I laugh up at him.
“I call fair play,” he says, hovering above me. I grip his shoulders. He pulls me in.
“Fallon.”
“Yes, kitten.”
“Kiss her already so we can finish the game,” Devon shouts. My cheeks blush scarlet.
I swear, if Fallon wasn’t holding me, I would have melted straight into the tarmac when his lips get mere inches from mine. I’m looking up at him with big, wide eyes and he’s looking down at me with a shit-eating grin. Coming to my senses, I smack his shoulder and he pulls me back up to stand, leaving me more breathless than I already was from running up and down the basketball court. Fallon hands me the basketball, pushing me toward the free throw line.
“You called foul, right?”
Fallon is messing with you like he always does.
I dribble the ball to the end of the court. “Hey, Fallon. If I make the shot from here, we win.”
“What do you say, boys? Think she can do it?”
“No way!” Seamus, Devon, and Butch call out. Trevaughn only gives me a nod of encouragement.
“Watch and learn, Nutter Butter.” I bounce the ball twice, side grip it, and throw it as hard as I can. We watch in trepidation as it hits the top of the backboard and drops in.
Devon exclaims, “Holy shit!” while Seamus says, “She actually did it!”
My teammates run over to me and we hop around and chant in celebration.
“That’s my girl,” I hear Fallon tell the others. Ryder and Jayson used to call me their girl. Fallon must notice the sadness that suddenly appears on my face because he walks over, putting one arm around my shoulders.
“Thanks, guys, for the game.” Fallon fist bumps all four boys and picks up our coats and gloves from the ground.
“Will you come back again and play hoops with us?” Butch asks, childlike hopefulness sparkling in his eyes.
“I’m taking Elizabeth on a long vacation, but you know what? I promise we’ll stop back by on our way home. How does that sound?” That seems to appease the boys. They wave bye then go back to playing. Fallon helps me with my coat, and I put my gloves back on.
“You are such a big softy, Mr. Montgomery.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“I heard you donated money to the center. You work fast.”
“They need new equipment, beds, and books for the library. A few million should cover it.”
I pull Fallon to a stop. “You gave them three million dollars?”
He shrugs and shoves his hands in his coat pockets.
“Holy shit!”
“It’s nothing, Elizabeth.”
It is something. It’s a big something.
“Thank you for agreeing to come here today,” I go on when he remains quiet. “It opened my eyes to so many things. Being able to talk to women like Hailey and myself, women who have been hurt and scared but found a way to fight and survive. It means a lot that you came with me.”
Fallon still doesn’t respond. Instead, he offers me his arm and I loop mine through his as we stroll down the sidewalk.
“Can we go ice skating at Bryant Park later?” I ask.
“You’re shitting me, right? Me on ice skates?”
“Have you ever done it before?”
“No. Can’t say I ever wanted to try.”
“I remember going a few times with Hailey when we were younger. I still can’t believe she’s gone; that they’re all gone. I can’t believe that I forgot them. She was like them—the women at the center,” I tell him. “They reminded me of Hailey. The guy that killed my family, he abused her for a long time before that night. There were signs. I was so stupid because I saw the warning signs. I saw the bruises. I allowed her to convince me they were nothing important. Casual bumps into doors or falls during PE class. What kind of sister was I to not see what was right in front of my face?”
“You were a great sister, Elizabeth. You and Hailey were close and you both loved each other. I wish I could say the same about me and my siblings. Things are good between me and Tatiána, but Trevor? I wish I had with him what you had with Hailey. Remember the good times with her.”
“Trevor is a good guy, Fallon. You should sit down and talk to him. Get to know him better. Do you mind if I talk to you about Hailey?”
“Whenever you want to talk about her or your family, I will always listen.”
“Other than Tatiána, you haven’t said anything about yours. Are they going to be mad at you for skipping out of town with me and missing class? Or giving away millions of dollars to a women’s shelter?”
The sharp curse that erupts from Fallon causes several nearby pigeons to scatter and take flight. “My parents could give a flying fuck what happens to me. Right before he passed away, my grandfather set up a trust fund for me that my parents cannot touch. I have my own money and they can’t do shit about it. Pisses the old man off that he can’t control me anymore.”
Fallon’s mood grows ominous, and I regret bringing up the subject.
“I’m sorry, Fallon.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, kitten. As long as I carry on the family name and take over the business when I graduate, that’s all my grandfather asked of me. I’m left to my own devices the rest of the time, just the way I like it.”
“That sounds very lonely.”
Fallon just shrugs and unhooks our arms, sliding his gloved hand down to my hand. His fingers tangle with mine and hold tight. He takes me for a carriage ride through Central Park and listens to me talk about my memories of my sister. Being able to talk about her, laugh about the times when we were silly, reminisce about her beautiful poetry, helps mend a part of my heart that was cracked and fractured. And I have Fallon to thank for that.
After our carriage ride, Fallon takes me ice skating at Bryant Park under the cloak of darkness. When we return to our hotel suite, we order room service for dinner and watch a movie. At midnight, we sit out on the balcony and enjoy a beer as we survey the city around us. We’re flying out to Reykjavik in the morning.
Fallon walks back inside the suite and returns a minute later holding a passport out to me. I choose not to ask how the heck he was able to get a passport for me in such a short amount of time. Mom had gotten passports for me and Hailey in preparation for our summer vacation trip to England after my high school graduation. The photo inside the passport Fallon just handed me is the same one I took senior year for that passport. Fallon must have some very good contacts if he was able to get a new one delivered in twenty-four hours. So instead of asking questions, I simply tell Fallon thank you.
“Secret for a secret?” he asks me before finishing his beer.
“Hmmm,” I hum, feeling pleasantly relaxed after a long but fulfilling day. “I had a great time with you today.”
Fallon rolls his head to the side to look at me. “I did, too.” He reaches out with his hand and I place mine in it. “Close your eyes, Elizabeth, and tell me who you see.”
I allow my eyelids to flutter close. “I see Ryder and Jayson.” I open my eyes. Fallon is still looking at me. “But when I open my eyes, I see you, Fallon.”
He breathes deeply and stands up, lifting my hand to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. “Good night, kitten. Be ready to go by six.” He turns my hand over and kisses the center of my palm, then walks inside.
“Good night, Fallon,” I whisper.
Me: Jay called me last night.
Ry: WTF!
Ry: That’s why he asked to borrow my phone.
&nbs
p; Me: I thought he used the PI. Change your damn passcode asshole. If he starts blowing up my phone again, I won’t give u my new number.
Ry:
Me: Same Jay bullshit he always says.
Me: We’re off to our next destination tomorrow.
Ry: Are u ever going to tell me where you guys are going? Are u even still in the country?
Me: Currently, yes. Tomorrow, no. And no, I’m not going to tell u. She picked out all the places we’re going though.
Ry: Is she doing any better?
Me: Actually, yeah.
Ry: That’s so good to hear. Her friend Meredith is frantic to speak with her. Think Elizabeth can call her or something sometime?
Me: No.
Ry: Trevor asked how she was. He and Elizabeth have gotten close.
Thinking about Trevor anywhere near Elizabeth just pisses me off. Goddamn Trevor.
Ry: Tell Elizabeth I love her. I didn’t tell her that today.
Chapter 7
Day 5: Finding Elizabeth
Nordurljosavegur
I have never seen anyone more excited to see snow and hot water than Elizabeth. I thought she would get a kick out of seeing the blue lagoon, so I arranged for us to stay at a retreat in Nordurljosavegur instead of Reykjavik. When she saw the blue waters of the hot thermal springs for the first time, she told me, “The blue is almost like the color of your eyes.” She took off her gloves and touched the heated water, surprised pleasure exploding across her face. I’m going to make it my priority to put that wonderous look on her face every damn day she’s with me. Because I know there’s an end date to our little adventure. I’m not the man who will get the girl at the end of the story. I’m actually the villain. I’m the man who is destined to destroy her. But not yet. Today, I get to enjoy her giddy smiles and I’m devouring every one of them like they are the last supper before my execution.
“Kitten, what’s taking you so long?” I call to her from the living area while looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. I watch the steam rise from the thermal river that runs right next to our room. The snow-covered rocky terrain adjacent to the blue waters creates a majestic contrast between ice and heat. It reminds me of the dichotomy between Elizabeth and me. Ice and heat. Light and dark. Good and evil. Virtue and impurity.
Broken Butterfly: Fallen Brook Series: Book 3 Page 6