The Serpentine Butterfly

by Addison Moore

  It’s clear that Skyla would rather live under Tad’s roof than shack up next to my mother in this hard-to-love money pit that just screamed get out with all the drama of a fire-breathing dragon.

  Fire-breathing dragon…I tilt my head into the house as if it just gave me an idea.

  And it did.

  Gene Pool is the Devil’s Tool

  LOGAN

  A wild wind blows through Paragon on this three-dog night, and knowing that I’ll be sprawled out alone in bed later makes me think it’s time to go out and get a few good dogs. I could use the company. No offense to Lex, but, not only is she not my type—I’m taken. My type happens to be Skyla—simply Skyla. And when I thought I was making love to her last spring, it was the highlight of this Treble thus far. And, now, knowing it was Bishop makes it the lowlight of both this life and the last.

  Speak of the devil. Chloe struts over in her sky-high heels, her belly distended, although not quite as far as Skyla’s these days.

  “Why isn’t Skyla here helping with streamers until her fingers bleed?” She examines the pale underbelly of her unblemished hands and scoffs.

  “I don’t know. Ask Brielle or Lizbeth. I’m not hosting this party.”

  The bowling alley is in the midst of being festooned with a flurry of pink and blue streamers, balloons, you name it, as Brielle and her army of ex-West Paragon High cheerleaders decorate the night away. Brielle rented out the entire facility to throw Skyla a baby shower.

  “Why is it just a surprise for her? I don’t get it,” Chloe continues to whine. “Shouldn’t I have been shuttled here under the premise of bad pizza and rounds of free foot fungus?” This visibly agitates Chloe. Her hair is slightly frazzled, her skin moist with perspiration from listening to Bree bark out orders for the past hour.

  The shower is actually for Chloe, too—which assures me of the fact that Brielle has officially lost her mind. If she still worked for me, I’d fire her on the spot. I need to have a talk with Bree and gently remind her that the girl she still calls a friend removed my cranium from the rest of my body, and although my head was meagerly sewn back on for the sake of posterity, I’m still fucking dead so perhaps we shouldn’t entertain Chloe in mixed company anymore—and perhaps never again at the bowling alley.

  “Take a seat,” I offer. Chloe is with child, and I’m not the monster around here. I nod to the stool at the end of the counter where I’m putting away freshly disinfected shoes. They’re all showing wear, and I know I should order new stock, but I want all the extra cash I have chipmunked away to help Skyla and Gage on their desperately needed remodel. It doesn’t much matter that they won’t take my money. I’ll figure out a way to get around that. “Have some water.” I pull a cold bottle out of the mini fridge.

  Chloe scowls as she snatches it from me. “As soon as that little bitch gets here, I’m going to vomit on her lap and chalk it up to this leech sucking me dry from the inside.”

  Chloe has nicknamed her future child a leech. Charming. But, right now, I’m more concerned with the expletive she’s chosen for the love of my life.

  “Don’t call her a bitch. You’re in my house, Chloe. You’re lucky you’re here at all.”

  “She is a bitch. Skyla Oliver nee Messenger is a bitch. She’s a bitch, bitch, bitch. A bitch face. A fat ass bitch. Soon to be the mother of many, many bitches.” She takes a long swig and downs half the bottle, gasping for breath when she’s through.

  “How does it feel to know she’s better than you?” I ask. I’m over Chloe’s incessant need for attention. If she wants another reprimanding, she’s not getting it. The only reason I haven’t tossed her out on her rear is the fact she’s Bree’s guest, and Bree has anted up to the moon to call this place her own from seven till midnight. “Skyla gets Gage,” I continue. “You get the knockoff. She lives freely on Paragon. You dwell in the sewer with the faction rats. She has two babies. You have one. She has you beat on every count.”

  Chloe gives a facial hiccup of a smirk. “I can ask you the same question. How does it feel knowing he’s better than you? Gage gets Skyla. You get to jack off. He lives freely on Paragon. You dwell in a Treble with the faction rats. He has two babies. You have none. Gage has you beat on every count.”

  I shake my head, holding back a laugh. “Damn it all to hell if you didn’t get me there.”

  Sometimes, with Chloe, you just have to call it a draw.

  “You ever think how things would have been different? You know, if you ended up with Skyla and I ended up with Gage?” She gives a wistful shake of the head. “I just don’t get why the powers that be-little us didn’t pan things out that way.” Chloe is lost in thought over this, and, for a moment, so am I.

  “Wish I had an answer.” Honest to God.

  “I have an answer,” Chloe grouses. “That heavenly mother of hers is a rotten old twat. She has twat breath and a twat face, and the next time I see her I’m going to punch her in her twat throat.”

  The entire bowling alley shakes like a snow globe, and the decorating committee lets out a few shrill screams.

  “Just a tiny trembler!” Lizbeth does her best to calm the masses while corralling her little ones.

  I lean into Chloe. “I’d be careful if I were you. Although, I’m not entirely sure why I’m so concerned for your safety. You weren’t exactly for mine.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she gruffs. “You know I love you. If I ever thought for a minute you wouldn’t be back on this God forsaken planet, I would have turned around and stabbed Ellis in the eye to alleviate my pent-up rage. I knew that celestial battle-ax in the sky couldn’t stand to shut down the Logan and Skyla Show.”

  An aftershock rolls through the bowling alley as she says the word battle-ax. Chloe’s mouth is solely going to be responsible for the big one. As always, destruction first—remorse is optional.

  “If you didn’t kill me, that wedding Skyla and I had would have taken place with the correct version of myself, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Brielle wouldn’t be lightheaded from blowing up little blue penis balloons—or maybe she would.” Now it’s me with that faraway look. “Those would be my babies in her belly.” I swallow hard, envying this revisionist history and where it could have led. I’m not sure it’s true, but for whatever reason, I’ve boarded Chloe’s crazy train.

  “So, you think I’m the one who fucked things up, huh?” Chloe is slow to assume responsibility.

  “As usual.” I pitch the last of the shoes into their cubbyhole—size seven women’s, the most popular, and, coincidently, the most dilapidated of the bunch.

  “You’re mistaken, buddy, because it’s my supervising spirit who pissed all over your parade to begin with, not me.”

  “Ex-supervising spirit.”

  Speaking of supervising spirits, Dudley stalks into the place, looking as if he’s just pissed on his own parade. It’s no secret that he’s been as much as a hormonal bitch these days as Chloe, minus the biological excuse.

  She follows my gaze and gives a dissatisfied grunt at the sight of him.

  “What is it?” he gruffs, taking a seat next to Chloe. “Make quick work of it. I’ve a meeting in a few celestial minutes with the warden.”

  The room rattles once again.

  “Could the two of you hold off your acrid comments about Skyla’s mother until you’re say—at you own damn place?”

  “Language.” Dudley scowls. “Ms. Messenger said there was something pressing you wanted to discuss.”

  Chloe chuckles. “I think it’s adorable the way you still call her Ms. Messenger.”

  “No, you don’t.” Dudley doesn’t miss a beat. “You find it titillating to know that someone is as vehemently opposed to her marriage to Jock Strap as you are.” His cheek glides back on one side as if he were considering this. “I’m not entirely opposed. It’s her heart’s desire to flog him with her body until he’s evicted from Paragon proper. Rumor has it there’s a place warming in the Transport with his name on it.
”

  The Transport? As in the place where fresh dead souls get their final elevator ride up or down? Crap. As much as Gage and I haven’t seen eye-to-eye, there’s no way I want to lose him.

  “Do you know something? Is this a sure thing?” I want to reach across and shake him until he spills every last detail regarding my nephew’s impending demise.

  “Rumors will swirl.” He gives a casual glance at the door. “Skyla is about to walk in. Summons the circus to scream and shout. I do have a tender spot for Lizbeth and would be remiss if I had to listen to her moan about not being able to pull anything off on one of the most important events for her eldest child.”

  “What the hell did you just say?” Chloe leers at him as if she’s drunk.

  I motion to Bree, and, before long, the girls all duck and cover.

  Skyla walks in, and the room breaks out into a spontaneous roar of Surprise!

  “You’re early!” Lizbeth scuttles to her daughter with a toddler attached to each hip. “Where’s Gage? This is a couple’s party!”

  “Oh my goodness!” Skyla turns slowly, taking it all in. Her hair is gloriously long and shining like gold floss. Her face radiates a glow as bright as the sun, beautiful as moonlight. She’s wearing a dress with thick black lines running down the sides and a tiny curvaceous white cutout in the center, and oddly enough, the dress gives the illusion of a shapely silhouette. She looks amazing, and I can’t seem to break my gaze.

  “I can’t believe this!” She hugs her mother and Bree.

  Lizbeth pets her daughter’s hair as if she were a cat. “I think it’s serendipitous that the shower is right here at the same place we had your birthday party when we first moved to the island. And they were both a surprise! What a coincidence.”

  “And somehow Chloe managed to crash both parties,” Skyla is quick to point out before excusing herself and heading this way. “Here you are.” She swats Dudley over the shoulder playfully with the clutch in her hand. “You didn’t start without me, did you?”

  “Kinky,” Chloe quips. “You three do this often?” She winks my way. “I’m almost afraid to ask what ‘starting without Skyla’ might entail. I’m guessing there’s no tongue involved. It’s all fleshy spirit sword fights and wrestling. How about it, Oliver? You up for spearing me with your spirit sword again for old times’ sake?” She gives a heavy wink.

  “You’re disgusting.” Skyla fans Chloe away. “And you’re also dismissed. Go find a grenade to play with.”

  “Testy, are we?” Dudley pats the seat next to him, and Skyla plants herself on it. “Where’s the rest of the party? I’ve places to go—Ahava to be precise. There’s a team meeting regarding a newly acquired dimensional plane by yours truly.”

  Chloe arches a brow.

  Crap. I shake my head at Dudley, hoping he’ll take the hint.

  “Just waiting for”—Skyla glances to the door and flags Coop and Laken over—“never mind. Here they are.”

  “Whoa, back up.” Chloe slaps her hand onto the counter. “Demetri gave you a dimensional plane? That’s what you asked for that day, isn’t it?” Chloe’s eyes shine with fury. It’s her best look. Chloe has always been her worst enemy, only she’s not bright enough to figure that out.

  “None of your business. And why are you still here? Go toss baby bottles around with your bestie.” She shoots a look to Bree for inviting Chloe to begin with.

  “Not moving.”

  Dudley shakes his head. “It matters not. I see where this is going.” He gives a curt nod to Coop and Laken. “Please proceed, Ms. Messenger. I’ve no intention on keeping your mother waiting.”

  Her mouth opens as if curious as to what Marshall might be doing with her mother before she reverts to me. “Logan, Coop”—she smiles sweetly at Cooper and Laken—“I have big news for you that will forever change how you look at yourself in the mirror.”

  Chloe grunts, “Oh, honey, if you’re pitching some acne bullshit Ezrina helped you pound out, I’d work on clearing up your own face before you start hawking it. People won’t spend their hard earned money on something that clearly isn’t working.”

  Skyla gags a moment. “Why are you speaking?”

  Brielle bops up and slings an arm around Chloe’s shoulders. “What’s going on?”

  “Skyla is trying to be innovative like you.” Chloe pulls Brielle into a partial embrace.

  Dudley motions for the show to go on.

  “As I was saying—” Skyla glances over her shoulder at the door. It’s Gage she’s looking for. I know this because I half expect him to walk through there as well. I crave his presence almost as much as she does. “It turns out Marshall is a father.” She nods to both Coop and me as a few moments of stale silence go by. “Haven’t either of you wondered why you look so strikingly similar? Especially to the Sector in question?”

  Laken’s mouth falls open. “Oh my goodness, really?” she squeals as if this meant something.

  “Is that it?” Chloe crows. “Logan and Coop are related to that?” She gawks at Dudley as if it was an insult of the highest order, and for once, I happen to agree with Bishop.

  “Cool beans.” Bree traipses off as if it was no big deal, but Coop and I continue to stare blankly at Skyla.

  “Isn’t this great?” She nods encouragingly, but we don’t take the bait.

  “Dudley doesn’t have kids.” I put it out there in the event no one has bothered to pay attention to the facts.

  “Not true.” He takes a remorseful breath. “I thought the same, but as it has been recently proven, there was a bastard that lived long ago, thus leaving me the purveyor of the Oliver branch that produced you as well as the Springers that your mother hails from Mr. Flanders.”

  Coop takes his time reacting, looking Dudley up and down as if trying to figure out how to navigate the rest of this conversation. “Okay.” He nods, not saying another single word.

  “Okay?” I’m stymied by his sudden acceptance. “This isn’t okay.” I hold my breath a moment, trying to figure out exactly why this isn’t acceptable. For one, I’m in love with Skyla, and so is he. Dudley and I don’t get along the way Gage and I do, nor will that ever happen. So the fact he carries a torch for my girl creeps me out. “What am I supposed to say? Glad the boys showed up that day? Thank you for the great genes?”

  “You’re welcome.” Dudley jumps to his feet and bows to Skyla. “I must run. The biggest gift of the evening is from me. It’s my undying affection to you and yours.” He offers a wink before kissing the back of her hand. “Any words for your mother?”

  She shakes her head. “Tell Sage I love her.”

  He offers a sad smile. “Will do.”

  Did she mean Gage? It sounded like Sage.

  “I’m sorry.” She pulls both Coop and me into a huddle. “As soon as I found out, I thought I should let you know.” She looks to Laken and shrugs. “Honestly, I was sort of hoping for a little more enthusiasm. Marshall does a lot to help us, and he doesn’t have a family—or at least he didn’t until now.” She gives an accusing glance my way. “I’m serious. You should consider being a little more respectful, and maybe even think about building a relationship with him. He’s a great person.”

  “Wow,” Laken muses to Coop. “He’s your great-grandfather on some scale. I think that’s pretty cool. Do you think there’s any Sector magic left in your blood?”

  “I don’t know about that.” Skyla shakes her head. “It’s pretty diluted—seventeenth century. But I guess there could be.”

  Gage walks in, and, before we know it, the baby shower is in full swing with enough people in the bowling alley to qualify as an angry mob. Emma and Barron show up, and I share the news with my brother.

  “Is this true?” He looks as stumped as I was.

  “It appears.” Gage smiles as if he’s relishing this on some level, most likely because he’s not a part of this family tree in that way.

  Emma clutches at her pearls before relaxing into the idea. “We shou
ld invite him to dinner as soon as we can. I think a proper welcome to the family is in order.”

  Lizbeth comes over clapping and squealing. “Did you see that? Nobody even got close to cutting the ribbon to the size of Skyla’s belly! She’s presenting very forward and bullet-like, which calls for one big baby!” she sings as if this were the best news possible. “I’m betting it’s a girl. I have an intuition about these things.”

  “Gage was of a normal height and weight,” Emma insists. “You could fit three of him in that belly of hers.” She and Lizbeth chortle at the idea of triplets—little do they know.

  After a long evening of blind taste testing mashed sweet potatoes and almost vomiting them from my nose, things wind down as bodies storm the exit. Skyla and Gage sit in a massive pile of prizes, as does Chloe who huddles with her old West groupies.

  I take a seat between Skyla and Gage. “Looks like you might have a storage issue on your hands.” I run my finger along a set of twin matching white-flocked caskets. Skyla played it off by saying one is for her bedroom, and the other casket is for downstairs. The lids have been removed to avoid the inevitable suffocation. The “casketnets” is something Brielle invented a while ago for Beau Geste, and now she’s raking in the green by selling them to every twisted mind that’s willing to shell out one hundred and ninety-nine dollars plus shipping on these casket-bassinet combos. Barron sells them to her wholesale.

  “I still think White Horse is the perfect home for the two of you. It’s yours whenever you wish to claim it. Or, in the least, until the renovations on your own home are done.” I throw it out there, hoping at least one of them will come to their senses. In truth, I don’t think renovations on their home will ever be complete. There simply isn’t that much time left in human history.