Black Butterfly

by Tiffany Patterson

  Stacey listened with rapt attention, her hand tightening around his as she heard the deep emotion in his voice. She felt her heartstrings pull imagining the vivacious Iris Collins so torn down. She shed a tear when Andre told her that was what had made him swear off love and marriage. He didn’t want the possibility of being that distraught over someone. Seeing his mother endure what she had the months and years after his father’s death had caused him to close off a piece of his heart to the idea of love. Even though Iris eventually sought out grief counseling and slowly came back to the mother he always knew and loved, he had been scarred.

  “But I don’t want to be that way with you. I wasn’t looking for it, but I slipped and fell in love with you and now I want it all,” he confessed, his intense cerulean gaze pinned on her brown eyes.

  Stacey felt like a weight she’d been carrying had finally lifted. She removed her hand from his and cupped his face, pulling him close to hers. Through watery eyes, her lips spread into the most infectious smile.

  “I love you, Andre Collins,” she said moments before bringing his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

  Epilogue

  3 Months Later

  “What brought you to burlesque?” Stacey heard the masculine voice ask as she watched herself sitting in almost the exact same spot at the Black Kitty as she was now. Tonight was the premiere of Sean’s burlesque documentary, and Mistress Coco hosted the event. All the dancers from the club and their invited guests were present.

  “I’d just come out of treatment for a major eating disorder…” Stacey flinched hearing herself confess the words on screen. She went to grab her hand to rub the tiny scar to comfort herself as she often did, but Andre grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to the scar before she could.

  “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered low in her ear.

  In spite of herself, Stacey blushed. She silently watched the rest of her interview that included a few clips of her actual performances. She unconsciously sat up a little higher in her chair as she marveled at seeing herself on screen performing, interspersed with her own words of survival and overcoming a failed dream and an eating disorder. Burlesque had helped in her healing, and now she sat proudly next to the man she loved, who she’d been officially living with for the past three months ever since she was kidnapped.

  “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” he leaned over and told her before pressing a kiss to her temple and rising.

  She watched him walk away and unconsciously licked her lips.

  “Damn, quit drooling.”

  Stacey giggled at her sister’s words. “Shut up, Coral.” She playfully jabbed her sister with an elbow.

  Coral had returned early the day after Stacey’s kidnapping and was pissed to find out what happened, and that she hadn’t been there to help. It had taken Andre and Stacey’s cousins to assure Coral that Stacey was okay, and the men responsible had been found and made to pay….all except one. They were still looking for the private investigator Jennings hired. He’d abandoned his house and virtually disappeared.

  “I’m just messing with you. You two look good together. Happy.”

  Stacey noticed the satisfied look on Coral’s face.

  “I am happy,” she admitted.

  “Good. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

  “And what about you?” Stacey asked.

  Coral snorted. “Don’t start that shit, baby sis.”

  Stacey frowned, but before she could say anything, Mistress Coco emerged from behind the curtain on stage.

  “Ladies and gentlefolk, I know you all came to watch this wonderful documentary and bask in our shared love for the art of burlesque. I appreciate you all for showing up and showing out tonight!” She chuckled and the audience clapped. “Now, we have one more event. Jazmine would you come up here please?”

  Stacey’s eyebrows raised. She had no idea why she was being asked to approach the stage.

  “Come on girlie! You’re not going to find out what it is stuck in your chair like that.” Coco laughed, and the audience joined in.

  Stacey felt herself being pushed out of her chair and turned to see Coral encouraging her to the stage. Slowly, Stacey stood and made her way to the stage. She briefly looked towards the hallway that lead to the bathrooms to see if she could spot Andre, but didn’t see any signs of him.

  “Now,” Mistress Coco took Stacey’s hand and faced her, “you’re used to performing on stage and in the documentary you said this stage is one of the places you feel most comfortable. So, it’s appropriate that you’re on this stage when you take the next phase of your life.”

  Stacey’s brows furrowed, her lips parted slightly at her look of utter confusion. Once again, she took a look around the room to see if she could spot Andre, but he was nowhere to be found. Tamia’s Black Butterfly began playing, a song Andre had come to call “her song” as he said it encapsulated all she had gone through and overcome. He’d taken to calling her his Black Butterfly as a pet name. Stacey swooned every time she heard that nickname from his lips. Suddenly, she heard a few gasps from the crowd at the same time she felt Andre’s warmth behind her. Turning, she looked up directly into the eyes that held so much love and adoration for her. Stacey felt her stomach quiver slightly at the intensity of his stare and the serious look on his face.

  He bent to one knee. “I don’t have a big speech prepared. That’s not my style, but I love you and promise to spend the rest of my life honoring and protecting you. Marry me.”

  It wasn’t a question. To Andre, it was a foregone conclusion that this woman would be his wife and the mother of his children.

  Stacey was stunned speechless. She didn’t hear the cheers from the crowd or the music in the background. She could barely see through the unshed tears.

  “Marry me,” Andre said again, this time slipping the two-karat, solitaire diamond on her left ring finger.

  “Y-yes.”

  The word was barely out of her mouth fully before Andre pulled her into his arms, his mouth covering hers. The audience, Mistress Coco, and everything else fell away as the two devoured in the kiss, silently vowing to love one another for all of eternity.

  “Congrats, sis.” Coral hugged Stacey a little while later as the newly engaged couple was surrounded by family and friends. Stacey had believed her entire family had come from Savannah to watch the documentary, which was only part of the truth. Andre had let them all in on his intentions to propose. Stacey, with Andre by her side, looked around the crowd and sighed with contentment at the love they were both surrounded by. Everyone was there including Iris, Nikola and Devyn, her aunt, uncle, Jabari, Quincy, and Raul and Mercedes. Everyone except Mercedes-—who’d recently revealed she was a little over three months pregnant—had a glass of champagne in their hands to toast the couple.

  They toasted and celebrated the night away. Stacey looked over at Andre who couldn’t take his eyes off his bride-to-be.

  “We’re not having a long engagement,” he told her, a serious look on his face.

  Stacey merely chuckled, shaking her head. That was her man. When he wanted something he went after it. If she were a betting woman, she’d put her money on being married within the next two months. Apparently, Collins men didn’t do long engagements, according to Devyn and Iris who’d both been engaged only six weeks before they’d said “I do.”

  “Hey, Stace we’re heading out,” Coral said from behind Stacey, flanked by Jabari.

  “Already?” she asked, a little sadness in her voice.

  “Yeah, we’ve got some business to handle. Got a flight to catch,” Jabari answered.

  Stacey looked skeptical as she saw the look that passed between Andre, her cousin and Coral. Opting to keep her questions to herself, she knew they wouldn’t tell her what was going on though she suspected it had something to do with the man who’d helped kidnap her.

  “You’ll be back to help me plan for my wedding?” she asked, looking at her sister.

 
; “Of course. You know me, I’m all for pink bows and taffeta dresses,” Coral snorted sarcastically. Everyone chuckled at that. Coral was the furthest thing from a hopeless romantic type.

  “I’ll be back.” Coral hugged her sister tightly.

  Stacey felt the same twinge of fear in her chest she always felt when Coral left. She always feared never seeing her sister again.

  “She’ll be back.” Andre pulled her to him, knowing how she felt about seeing her sister off. “Right now, we have a wedding to plan.” He pressed a kiss to her lips.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yup and I know the perfect wedding planner. She used to work for me and she just so happens to be married to someone close to me. And, she has experience planning quick weddings.”

  Stacey smiled.

  “Let’s go meet this woman. I have some ideas I’d like to run by her,” Stacey teased back.

  Together, they headed over to where Devyn and Nikola were standing to begin wedding planning and the rest of their lives together.

  ****

  The Following Day…

  Michael Hayes stirred awake from the breeze of the open sliding glass door in his bedroom. He’d come to Puerto Rico to hide out from the people looking for him in Atlanta. He figured he’d lay low in San Juan for a few months before heading out west to California to start a new life. As he rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, he didn’t remember leaving the screen door open that wide before falling asleep. Reaching up to turn on the lamp that sat next to his bed, he gasped at what he saw in front of him.

  Perched in a chair was woman, dressed in all black and a pair of combat boots. What struck him most wasn’t the short, two-toned hair style, the fact that she was sitting in his rented condo at four a.m., or even the revolver she held in her lap, complete with a silencer. No, what pinned him to his bed, held him motionless, was the absolute look of death in her hazel eyes.

  “Did I wake you?” she asked in a low voice, glaring at him.

  “Wh-who are you? Wh-what do you want?” He was barely able to get the words out.

  “You don’t know?” she asked.

  “If you w-want money, I can get you m—”

  “Shhhh.” She brought one finger to her mouth. “I hate it when they beg.”

  She looked to her right, and that was when Michael noticed a tall, dark-skinned man enter the bedroom.

  “Me too,” he answered, a similar look of pure hatred on his face.

  “Mike. Can I call you Mike?” she asked. “Anyway, Mike look at me.” He turned his attention back to her. Strangely, he felt more fear looking at her than at the other man. He could feel the danger emanating off this woman. “You’ve run a long enough. Time to stop running.”

  A look of realization spread across Michael’s face. His mind began working. Maybe he could bargain his way out of this.

  “Hey, if this is about that last job I did in Atlanta, I’m sorry. I can turn myself into police. I know that Collins probably hired you to look for me, but I have money—”

  His rant was cut off by the humorless laugh that came from the woman. Even the man, who remained standing in the doorway, gave a short chuckle and shook his head.

  “They always think it’s about the money,” she said to no one in particular. “This is most definitely about what happened in Atlanta, but I wasn’t hired by anyone and there’s no dollar amount you can pay me to prevent what’s going to happen to you,” she sneered. “You see, when you took on the job to kidnap my sister, you didn’t do your research.”

  Sister? Michael wondered. He’d only done some preliminary research on her just to find out her daily habits.

  “A scorpion for a sister, as a matter of fact,” Coral said, rising and moving to stand over his bed.

  Scorpion. Michael’s eyes widened in horror as he remembered the name. In his PI business and shady dealings, even he’d heard of the Scorpion. He thought it was just a myth, but now she was standing over him claiming he’d fucked with her sister.

  “Hey, don’t look so scared now. You weren’t that scared when you took my sister.”

  “Look. You have to l-listen. I had no idea she was your f-family. I just did what I was hired to do. It was all Jennings,” he tried to explain.

  “Jennings has been taken care of. Now, it’s your turn. Lights out.”

  Michael’s entire world went black as Coral slammed the butt of her gun against his temple.

  “He’s a big one. Sure he’ll fit?” Jabari asked from the doorframe, looking at the passed out man on the bed.

  “He’ll fit. Let’s make this quick. Apparently, I have a wedding to help plan,” Coral snorted.

  “Yeah, maybe the next wedding we plan will be yours, cuz,” Jabari joked as they maneuvered Michael’s body into the trunk they’d brought.

  A disbelieving look mixed with nostalgia passed across Coral’s face. “Uh, don’t count on it.”

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR: I am a daughter. A sister. An aunt. A former teacher. Non-fiction writer. And, now, a fiction writer! I love to laugh and am a romantic at heart. I fell in love with African-American/Multicultural romance about eight years ago, upon reading my first Francis Ray novel. I've been hooked on the genre ever since. A few years ago, I got the idea to pen my own romance novel. It took me awhile to follow through, but I'm ecstatic that I finally did! My goal is to provide diverse and interesting stories that center around women falling in love and being loved. My stories will also feature diverse social and personal issues that plague us. I look forward to working and growing as a writer. And I especially look forward to your feedback.

  Text the keyword “femistry” to 25827 to receive text messages when new Interracial Romances are released by Tiffany Patterson and Jessica Watkins Presents!

  Jessica Watkins Presents is currently accepting submissions for the following genres: African American Romance, Urban Fiction, Women’s Fiction, and Interracial/Multicultural Romance. If you are interested in becoming an author and have a complete manuscript, send a synopsis and the first three chapters to jwp.submissions@gmail.com.