Broken Butterfly: Fallen Brook Series: Book 3

by Jennilynn Wyer

  “You ready?” he asks me as we step off the elevators.

  The helicopter’s rotor blade is already spinning creating swirls of whipping wind that blow my hair all around my head in a blond whirl. I grab hold of Fallon’s hand and we duck and run under the rotating blade. A man helps me up into the cabin, and Fallon gets in after me and buckles me in. He hands me a set of sound-dampening headphones with a microphone and I put them on as he does the same.

  “We talk to each other through these,” he tells me, and I give him a thumb’s up. I listen to Fallon and the pilot chat for a minute, and then the helicopter lifts off its pad and we’re off. My stomach tightens at the brief feeling of heaviness as we ascend, and I grab Fallon’s hand, squeezing it tight.

  “We’re good, kitten. Just enjoy.”

  It was cloudy all day today, but it doesn’t hamper our views of the city tonight. As we fly over a dazzling Paris, Fallon points out various landmarks and monuments. I get to see the Eiffel Tower lit up like a Christmas tree and it reminds me of the Valentine’s Day when Jayson did the same thing to the old oak tree between our two houses.

  “I’m going to have a lot of bridges to repair when I get home,” I say into my microphone. Fallon switched our sets over to another channel so that the pilot can’t hear our conversation.

  “Why the fuck are you thinking about that now?”

  “I don’t know. Just something that popped in my head, I guess.”

  “Well, stop. That time will come soon enough, kitten.”

  “Fallon, I have to start planning for what comes next. I can’t travel the world with you forever.”

  “We can do whatever the hell we want.”

  “I have school to finish. I want to become a doctor. Regardless of the screwed-up states of my relationships with everyone, if nothing else, Ryder, Jayson, and Julien are my best friends. Meredith and Trevor are my friends, too. And I just up and disappeared on everyone…again. I’ve put all the people I say I care about through hell and they deserve much better than they’ve gotten from me.”

  “Screw them. You don’t owe anyone a damn thing,” Fallon argues.

  “Yes, I do. I also need to talk to Daniel and Drew. I haven’t spoken to either of them for a while. And I need to see my daughter.”

  I hear Fallon’s exasperated sigh.

  “I’m looking forward to meeting Tatiána tomorrow,” I say, hoping to ease the tension I now feel rising up in him. Fallon had mentioned that Tatiána would meet up with us while we’re in Barcelona. I’m actually quite excited to meet her.

  Fallon leans over to my side and points to the Arc de Triomphe below us. “The feeling is mutual. I’m going to have to keep a close eye on the two of you. I have a feeling that you and her together will spell nothing but trouble for me.”

  He rests his chin on my shoulder as we both look out the window. We circle the city before heading back. Once we land, I step down from the cabin and my legs feel like jelly. Being up there, hovering over Paris, was like the tower drop at an amusement park—fortunately without the sudden drop back to the ground.

  “That was awesome!” I shout at Fallon so he can hear me over the noise generated by the helicopter’s motors and blades.

  Fallon doesn’t say anything until we get into the elevator and the doors close. He presses the button for the ground floor where a car is waiting to drive us to dinner and then a club after.

  “Things will change once you go back, and I’m not ready to let you go yet,” he solemnly states.

  I lean back against the elevator wall and look at him. “Of course things are going to be different, because I’m different. But I’ve gotten to know the elusive, secretive Fallon Montgomery and I like him, a lot. You’re a good man, Fallon. You’re my hero.”

  Fallon stands up straighter and tilts his head at me. I love it when he does that. “I’m not the hero, Elizabeth. I’ll never be your hero. I’m your worst fucking nightmare.”

  The elevator doors open and Fallon escorts me to our town car. We eat our dinner in silence because he’s in a mood, and instead of going dancing like we planned, Fallon takes me back to our hotel suite. I leave him alone and go out onto the terrace to enjoy my last night sky in Paris.

  I’ve learned to allow Fallon his mood swings and know he’ll soon seek me out when he’s ready. Sure enough, I hear his footsteps walking over to where I’m standing and the hairs on my arms raise when he gets nearer.

  “I’m sorry about tonight. I wasn’t very good company.”

  Now it’s my turn to be silent. I can hear the lilting notes of a violin coming from the street level down below. I recognize the tune and hum along with it. Fallon moves behind me and extends his arms on either side of me against the terrace railing. I start to sway to the music of the violin. Fallon’s arms move from the banister to wrap around my front. I lean my head back against his chest, and we rock lightly from side to side.

  I don’t know when it happened, but I’ve come to care about Fallon. I enjoy his company and his friendship. Most importantly for me is that I trust him. He’s broken and scarred and gets under my skin like no one else can, but he’s caring and dependable and bluntly honest in an ‘I-don’t-give-a-shit’ kind of way. He’s doesn’t treat me as fragile. I’ve become stronger being with him on this trip.

  “Did you know Paris is called the city of love?” he says next to my ear, his tone somber and a bit sad.

  “La ville de l’amour et la ville de la romance,” I reply and feel him smile against my cheek.

  “Tu parles français?”

  “Un peu.”

  “What if I told you that I was in love with you and I wanted you to choose me? That I wanted you to stay here with me?”

  I stop swaying and turn in his arms so I can see him. “First, I would remind you that you told me recently that love was a selfish lie used to manipulate people.”

  “What if I’ve changed my mind?” he says curtly.

  “Then I would tell you that my heart belongs to someone else.”

  “You’ve decided?” A look of panic crosses his face.

  I have. It’s taken two weeks, but I’ve made my decision. However, right now, I want to be with Fallon. I want a few more days, a few more adventures, before I go back.

  “You said you’re not ready to let me go, and I’m telling you that I’m not ready to leave yet. I want to finish our journey. We can wait a few more days to decide what happens next.”

  Fallon grips my waist and pulls me with him to the terrace doors. “If I only have a few days left with you, I want you next to me. I want to fall asleep holding you. Even if it is just an illusion, I want to pretend that you’re mine.”

  “It’s not an illusion, Fallon.”

  A part of me will be forever his now, just like a part of me belongs to Jayson, Ryder, and Julien. Life is not about giving your love to only one person. It’s about giving your whole self in every way possible to those who deserve it. It’s like I told Fallon—it’s possible to love more than one person. You can love your friends and your family and still have love to share with someone new who you’re lucky enough to have stumble into your life along the way.

  “I swear I won’t do anything more than hold you. Can you give me that for tonight?” His vibrant blue eyes sparkle as they look at me. He really is a gorgeous man. He’s just not the man I’m in love with.

  “Yes, I can do that,” I reply, and he exhales the breath he had been holding.

  “Thank you.”

  When we get inside, I go to my room and grab a large shirt and sleep shorts, then walk into the bathroom to change. When I come out, Fallon is waiting for me. We climb under the covers and he pulls me to him, his arms banding around my middle. And that’s how we stay for the rest of the night.

  Fallon needs me just as much I’ve come to depend on him. There’s a darkness inside of him that needs me to help bring it toward the light. I may be crossing some lines with what I’m doing. I’m pretty sure that Ryder or Jay
son wouldn’t be happy to see me and Fallon in bed together even though nothing will happen between the two of us. For me, it’s platonic; just two friends giving each other comfort. I can’t even count how many times me and the guys slept at each other’s houses, most often all piled together on the same bed.

  “Why do you think I’m going to hate you?” I ask him because I’m curious to hear what he says, but also because I want him to tell me his fears so I can help fight them with him. One day he’ll tell me about his scars, both the physical and the mental ones.

  “Because you will hate me once you find out the truth.”

  I rest my palm on top of his heart and I can feel how heavy it’s pounding. Whatever his secret is, it terrifies him.

  “I want to be there for you, if you’ll let me.”

  “The devil took my soul a long time ago, kitten. I’m beyond saving.” He readjusts our positions so that his head is resting on my shoulder. “You always smell so goddamn good.”

  “Thank you,” I chuckle and continue to rub his neck and up into the hair on the back of his head. Fallon soon falls asleep, and I hold him close to me throughout the night wondering what could be so bad that the thought of me finding out scares the shit out of him.

  I woke up a couple of hours ago with Elizabeth curled around me. She’s wrapped in my arms, her sweet scent infusing the air around us with the aroma of jasmine. I’ve been watching her sleep. I have a habit of doing that, and I really need to stop. I just can’t seem to help myself. She’s so beautiful. An ethereal goddess among monsters. She refuses to believe that I am one of those monsters.

  Elizabeth told me yesterday that she’s made a decision. I know I only have a few more days left before I lose her. I don’t want to hurt her, but I’ll be the one to destroy her eventually, nonetheless.

  I reach over to grab my phone with my free hand. Elizabeth stirs in the arm I keep wrapped around her. I shush her and kiss her temple until she sighs and settles back down.

  Me: Going off the grid for a few days.

  Ry: Why? What’s going on? Where’s Elizabeth?

  Me: Right next to me asleep.

  Let him assume what he wants from that. I know I’m being an asshole and that Ryder is the only true friend I have, but I’m so goddamn angry. I want the one thing I can’t have. I’m going to hurt her and when I do, I’ll burn to blackened cinders one of the only truly good things I’ve ever known.

  Me: Talk to you soon.

  I pull Elizabeth closer to me and she mumbles something in her sleep. The sound of it stabs a hot dagger into my icy heart.

  Chapter 9

  Day 15: Finding Fallon

  Barcelona

  Fallon had his jet meet us this morning at the Paris-Charles de Gaulle Airport where we boarded and flew to Barcelona. Once we landed, a limousine was waiting for us. After what seemed like a long drive from the airport through gorgeous, scenic countryside, we finally came to our final destination—a grand and majestic countryside estate. Fallon told me on the plane that we were staying at his sister and her husband’s home, just one of several homes they owned throughout Spain and Europe.

  “I have to warn you,” Fallon says as he gentlemanly helps me out of the limousine, “my sister married very young. She’s eighteen now and her husband is twenty years her senior. But he treats her like a queen, so I have no problem with him. Yet,” he adds.

  I pull my sunglasses down to shield my eyes from the bright sunlight and look around. The temperature is mild, around the mid-sixties, and feels wonderful. The beauty of my surroundings is breathtaking. You can clearly see the attention to detail in the design of the property’s landscaping and the colorful design of the home with its stained-glass windows and mosaic tiles. Ivy tendrils climb up along the sides of the house giving it an old-world feel. The roof is made of red and brown terracotta tiles and the outside stucco is a muted tan color.

  “What style of architecture is this? I don’t recognize it?”

  “Catalan Modernism,” a woman’s accented voice replies. This must be Tatiána. She is absolutely stunning. Her hair is jet black and straight, but I can see the purple and gold-foil strands interspersed throughout her shiny locks. I’ll have to ask her what she used in her hair because it looks cool. Her eyes are as crystal blue as Fallon’s, and the contrast between her dark hair and her light eyes is mesmerizing. She smiles sweetly at me and I instantly like her.

  Fallon breaks away from me and moves toward his sister; the grin that lights up her face is one of pure joy. Before he can get to her, she runs over to him and throws her arms around his neck, kissing him very enthusiastically on both cheeks. Fallon lifts her up, causing her yellow dress to blossom out and flow around them as he twirls her around in a circle. They speak to each other in what I think is Spanish, but many of the words I don’t recognize. Once he lets Tatiána go, she looks over at me and pokes Fallon in the ribs.

  “You are right, brother. She is very pretty.”

  I blush at her compliment. “It is so nice to meet you,” I greet her, walking over to hold out my hand. I know it’s an American custom, but it’s one I’m used to. “Thank you for allowing me to stay in your home.”

  Tatiána ignores my hand and embraces me in a hug instead. She leans back and kisses me on each cheek, then takes my arm and starts walking me toward the house. “Fallon, be a good boy and make sure her bags are taken to the Rosa room.”

  We hear him respond with a few choice words, which makes us both laugh. I look back over my shoulder and wiggle my fingers at him, then I blow him a kiss.

  “He seems happy,” Tatiána comments as two grand twelve-foot doors gracefully swing open for us like magic. I get my first glimpse at the interior of her home and it’s as gorgeous on the inside as it is on the outside. A woman carrying a tray of drinks approaches us and gives a small curtsy. Tatiána takes two flutes of bubbling liquid off the tray and hands one to me.

  “Are these real flowers?” I ask when I notice the purple and white blossoms floating in my glass. I sniff the drink and it smells divine.

  “Yes. I use fresh, edible flowers in most things. The flowers come from a world-renowned grower in Barcelona.”

  I take a sip of the drink and the bubbles pop on my tongue. I was expecting champagne, but this is more like a floral-infused sparkling water. It’s light and delicious.

  “Your home is lovely.”

  “Once you settle in, I will give you a tour. My Eduardo is out of town on business until tomorrow so it will be just the three of us tonight.” Her accent is so charming and lyrical. I was raised in the South, so I have a slight Southern twang when I talk. Spending over a year in Seattle muted it down a lot and I barely hear it anymore except when I get angry or passionate about something.

  “I would very much like that. Thank you,” I tell her.

  “You are very pretty, Elizabeth. I can see why Fallon is so taken with you.”

  I blush again. “We’re just good friends. He’s helping me with something.”

  “Ahh,” she says, the look she’s giving me tells me she’s not convinced. “Regardless, I’m happy he has a friend. It’s not often I get to see him, so your visit is a nice surprise.”

  As she walks me through different rooms, a Steinway grand piano catches my eye. Tatiána notices me staring. “Do you play, Elizabeth?”

  “I do, yes.” My fingers start to twitch, and I think I drool a little over the Steinway.

  “Please, be my guest. I play a little, but I am not good.”

  I walk over to the grand piano and lovingly glide my fingers across the black and white keys. “Are you sure?” I ask her.

  Tatiána is already sitting down across from the piano waiting for me to start playing. “Music is the sound of the soul. It would be my honor to listen to your soul, Elizabeth.”

  “Would you like for me to play something classical, Baroque, romantic, contemporary?” I take my seat on the piano bench and place my feet on top of the pedals, my fingers hovering o
ver the keys.

  “I would like to hear you play something from the heart,” she replies.

  I warm up my fingers by playing a few scales.

  “There you both are. This house is a fucking maze to navigate,” Fallon complains as he walks into the room.

  “Come, brother. Elizabeth is about to play for us.” Fallon takes a seat beside his sister and she takes his hand in hers. It’s clear how much she loves him and how much he adores her. I wish he could have this type of sibling relationship with Trevor. When we go back home, I’m going to try my best to make that happen, or at least open Fallon up to the possibility of letting Trevor in.

  “Something from the heart?” I ask her and she nods.

  I look at Fallon who hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he entered the room. I decide on something modern. Something that reminds me of Fallon. I close my eyes and begin to play “Wonderlust” by Will Post. As my fingers move over the keys and the melody flows, I sing the lyrics. I love the words of the song. It’s a perfect theme for the journey I’m on with Fallon.

  When I finish, Tatiána leans over to Fallon and tells him, “She’s very good, brother,” then stands up. “You are welcome to play any time you wish, Elizabeth. You both must be tired from your journey today, so I will give you some time to rest before dinner.” She kisses Fallon on both cheeks again and walks over to do the same to me before taking her leave.

  “Why haven’t you done more with your music?” Fallon asks me, his tone almost sounding accusatory.

  “My dad taught me. It was always something we did together. Something that connected me to him. I had no desire to pursue a music career even though he was in a band. I play the drums, too.” I smile at him.

  “Of course you fucking do. I don’t think there’s anything you can’t do.”

  “Thank you, I think. Are you upset with me about something?”

  Fallon walks over to the piano and hugs me. I jolt a little at his unexpected show of affection. I hug him back.