The Curse: The Butterfly Effect, Book 2.

by Margaret McHeyzer

  Closing my eyes in the vision, I relax and take myself back to the field. “It worked,” I tell myself as I take a step in the field.

  I’m drawn back into the present. Dallas smiles at me. “How did it go? Did it work?”

  “Kind of, but not exactly. I have to practice more.”

  She leans forward and peers into my eyes. “You’re still pretty bruised up, but I think your eye is bluer, if that’s even possible.”

  I jump up off the bed, and go into the bathroom, where there’s a tiny mirror above the old pedestal sink. Leaning in, I look at my eye. She’s right. The blue hasn’t covered more area, but it’s become brighter than it’s ever been before.

  Heading back out to the bedroom, I try and wrap my head around everything that’s happened.

  “You okay?” Dallas asks.

  I nod. “I need to try again. Just once more for today, because I’m feeling really tired.”

  “Are you sure? We can wait until later.”

  “We need to keep going.” I sit opposite her, close my eyes, and begin to center myself again. Lifting my hand, I wait for her touch.

  I’m in my field. My field of peace. I’m walking along skimming the grass with my hands, soaking up the rays of the sun. Suddenly, I’m standing in our room. Dallas and I are on the bed, practicing. This time, I’m not frustrated or angry. I’m in a vision of me being in a vision. “Fascinating,” I say as I walk around the bed looking at myself.

  “Lexi, are you here?” Dallas is holding my hand on the bed, but she looks up to where I’m standing.

  “Dallas, can you hear me?” I ask and move closer to her.

  “Lexi?”

  Damn it. Obviously, she can hear something, but it’s not clear enough for her to make out what I’m saying. I take several deep breaths, and really focus on communicating with Dallas. “Dallas,” I say again.

  She startles and swings her head around, it’s almost as if she’s staring straight at me. “Lexi, I can only just make you out.”

  Focusing with everything I have in this strange moment, I say, “I’m here, next to you.”

  Her eyes stare straight through me, like she can see me. “I heard you.” She looks at me sitting on the bed opposite her, then back to where I’m standing. “This is so weird. Can you see yourself?”

  “Yes,” I respond.

  Weird doesn’t even cut it. Surreal and unnatural. It’s kind of freaky and magical all in one. My wildest imagination couldn’t make this stuff up.

  “I don’t know what to say or do. Should I break the connection?” Dallas asks.

  “No! Let me try to get out of it on my own. Whatever you do, don’t let go of my hand.”

  “Okay.” She looks around the room, her shoulders visibly shuddering. This must be even weirder for her than it is for me.

  Standing back, I watch us in the room. I have no idea how to get out of the vision without her breaking it off first, but I need to learn so I can gain further control of this ability.

  I don’t know where to start, but I have to do something.

  Watching Dallas and myself, I first try to control my breathing. I count the Mississippi’s for every breath I take. Concentrating on where our hands are touching. With every breath I take, I fall further and further into a relaxed state. My mind clears, my heartbeat evens out and my eyes become heavier.

  I will myself to break the connection.

  Opening my eyes, I’m back in the room staring at a shocked and surprised Dallas. “You’re here,” she says and looks to our joined hands.

  “I’m here,” I squeal with excitement.

  Which is short lived because I’m back in the vision.

  “Damn it,” I nearly shout.

  “You had it for a few seconds, Lexi. We need more practice and you’ll be able to control it.”

  And just like that, I’m sitting on the bed. Dallas’s hands are in her lap. I’m so mad at myself, I nearly had it. “Ugh,” I grumble. I stand and angrily pace back and forth on the rug. “I almost had it.”

  “You did have it. You just need more practice. This whole thing is weird. Did I look okay? Did I say or do anything?” She too jumps off the bed and leans against the wall. “This is like beyond Disney weird, man.”

  I turn and look at her. “Disney weird? How is Disney weird?”

  “Seriously? A chick eats an apple and falls asleep. Another chick goes to live with a bunch of short guys who don’t look like they shower. A chick has such long hair she can drop it from the top of the Trump Tower and people can use it as a ladder. A ladder, Lexi! And not to mention, a chick falls in love with an animal. And you’re telling me none of those are weird?”

  When you put it that way . . .

  “What did it feel like to you?” I ask.

  “What did what feel like? Because as I said, this whole thing is weird as anything. Spooky strange.” She wiggles her fingers beside her head and widens her eyes.

  “Ugh, I have to remember when I’m in a vision, it’s a future vision. Your present self has no idea your future self and I talked.”

  Dallas looks at me, and shakes her head. “You know what’s even stranger than you being able to have visions of the future?”

  “What?”

  “What you said actually makes sense to me.” She chuckles, even in this bizarre and stressful situation. “Lexi?” Her happiness is short lived. The sound of my name coming from her is stressed.

  “Yeah?” We both sit on the floor, our backs against the bed. Right now, in this moment in time, we’re two teenage girls who’ve been thrust into a horrible situation.

  “Are we going to live?”

  Man, what a loaded question. I want to say yes and give her a hug, but I have no idea at all. Enzo is a man who’ll use me until he no longer needs me, which means my days are numbered. And if my days are numbered here, Dallas’s are even fewer, because she has no ability and is of no use to him at all.

  “Lexi?” She shoulders me. There’s hope in her voice, but the undertone conveys that she already knows the answer.

  I give her all the optimism I can. “I hope so. I haven’t seen an end for either of us.”

  But in this situation, I highly doubt it.

  We’ve been practicing like crazy for the past week. I keep trying to break the connection so I can achieve control over what I have. I’m getting better, and I think in the next few days I’ll be able to control it when I go into a vision. The thing that spins us both out, is when I have a vision and I talk to Dallas, she can hear me talking to her hours later. We’re not sure how it works, but somehow, it does.

  The past two days have been intense, and by the time we’re finished practicing, I’m spent. It really takes it out of me, I end up so drained I collapse on the bed and sleep.

  “Hey, you awake?” Dallas asks as she nudges me over the blanket we share.

  “Yeah, kinda. You okay?” My voice is sleep-heavy, as is my body. I don’t want to wake, but I know I have to. We need to practice.

  “I’ve been thinking of something.”

  “Could be dangerous.”

  “Shut up, loser.” She playfully slaps me. We may not be in the healthiest or best environments, but at least we make the most of a shit situation.

  Chuckling, I turn over to look at her. “What are you thinking?”

  “I wonder, if I touch you while you’re sleeping, if you’d get a vision?”

  I blink a few times to wake up, then rub my hands over my eyes. My face is still a bit sore when I touch it, but nothing like it has been. “You woke me to ask me if I get visions if I’m touched while I’m sleeping. Seriously?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  I kick her under the blanket and then turn over. “I’m going back to sleep.”

  She pokes my lower back. “No sleep for you! We need to practice.”

  “I-”

  The door is unlocked and an armed guy walks in. He sees both Dallas and I in the bed and smiles sleazily at us. “Having a pa
rty and I didn’t get an invite?” he asks.

  What an ass. “What do you want?” Dallas bites toward him.

  His smile quickly disappears, and mine stretches across my face. Sassy Dallas.

  “Boss wants you ready. You have work.” He slams the door shut, giving us no more information.

  My heart jumps and I suddenly become nervous. “Great guy,” Dallas says after a few seconds. “Full of personality.”

  “Yeah,” I reply. The strain of the severity kicks in. “What if I screw up and do something wrong?”

  “Just do what he asks, and you’ll be okay.”

  “What if I can’t get a vision from whomever I’m supposed to read?” I turn to look at her. “It means they’ll kill you, Dallas.” Her mouth closes sharply, and tears spring to her eyes. “This is a huge responsibility and I don’t want to screw it up.”

  Dallas tries to hide her tension, but she can’t. She’s my best friend in the entire world, and I know her so well. I can see the obvious signs of her stress. She’s not yet on the hysterical side, but I imagine it’ll only be a matter of time before she gets there. And that’ll put more pressure on me.

  For my sake, she manages to hide the fear that’s lurking deep in her eyes. “Do what you can do, Lexi, and don’t worry about me. Whatever happens, I’ll know you did the best you could.”

  “I can’t not worry about you.”

  “Listen . . .” She sits up in bed and crosses her legs, forcing me to do the same. “I’m here as leverage to force you to do what he wants. They’re not going to hurt me now, knowing you’ll stop working. Relax, take deep breaths, and let this gift of yours shine through. You’ve got this. I have faith in you.”

  How can she stay so calm when her life depends on my ability to perform on demand?

  But her confidence in me is strangely calming. There’s something about the way she’s looking at me, telling me I’m going to be okay, that I believe.

  “I can do this,” I say as I exhale deeply.

  “Yes, you can.” She looks around the room and turns back with a questioning expression. “Did Mr. Personality bring in clothes?”

  “Nope, he just said Enzo wants me.”

  A few moments pass, and the door unlocks again. The same guy enters holding a brown paper bag, and two bottles of water. He tosses the bag on the bed then drops the water by the door. “Breakfast. Boss said he’s getting you clothes, doesn’t want you looking like that.” He gestures toward me in disgust. His mouth turns into a snicker, while his eyes wander over my body. What is it with these men? Are they all sex-crazed? “But I wouldn’t mind taking a bite of you right now.”

  Shaking my head, I gag on my own saliva. This guy is disgusting. When neither Dallas nor I respond to his lewd remark, he leaves the room.

  “Why do they all have to be so revolting?” Dallas asks my unspoken question, almost as if she can read my mind.

  “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

  “Well, sex is the oldest form of currency in the world. Sex can be traded for favors.”

  I turn to Dallas and scrunch my nose at her. “How do you know these things?”

  “It makes sense. Sex was around before drugs were, and I’m sure drugs closely follow the sex trade.”

  “How did we get on this conversation?” I reach over and grab the brown paper bag, as Dallas stands and walks over to retrieve the two bottles of water.

  “It’s all about power, Lexi. Why do you think we’re in this position to start with? Power. You were taken because they want more power, and you can help them get it. I was taken because your love for me gives them power over you. It’s about what you can do for them and how far you can propel them.”

  “Yeah, I know. I also know once Enzo gets where he wants to be, he’ll kill us both.”

  Dallas’s entire body shudders, and her shoulders slump. We both know, with Enzo, our lives can end at any moment. Jude may have initially scared me, but toward the end of my time with him, I didn’t feel threatened. I felt . . . safe.

  “Crap, sorry,” I apologize. Regret stains my voice. I said aloud what we both are already well aware of.

  The new security guard is sleazy, but not as bad as the other one. He came into the room in the early afternoon, threw two bags on the floor and told Dallas and me to get dressed.

  Neither Dallas nor I knew why she had to come along, but I suppose it’s best she stays close to me wherever I am. That way, if they hurt her, I’ll stop working.

  Now, we’re both sweating bullets and waiting for the door to open. I’m wearing jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt with the ugliest gloves ever created. These are even worse than those awful ones Jude made me wear. Where do they buy these things? Is there an ‘Ugly Gloves ‘R’ Us’ store?

  Dallas wears an incredibly short jumpsuit, showing off her legs.

  It doesn’t take a genius to figure out I’m wearing what I’m wearing so no one can touch me, and she’s wearing what she’s wearing so Enzo can ogle her long, toned legs. Pervert scumbag.

  We’ve both been quiet, anticipating the activities we’re going to be lead into.

  As we sit on the bed, Dallas turns to me. “If we die tonight, just know, this isn’t your fault.” She gestures with a loop of her finger, around the room.

  “How can it not be?” The one thing to stay with me until my last breath will be guilt.

  Innocent people have been dragged into my nightmare, and innocent people have been hurt. Guilt is the only thing I can feel, aside from constant fear. I wish I was never given this stupid curse.

  The door opens and two security guards walk in. Both are armed, and both intimidate me. Dallas inches closer when they enter the room. She must be feeling it too.

  “Get up,” one says in a deadpan voice.

  Dallas and I are on our feet within seconds. Neither of us want to test the hardware they’re holding.

  “Boss is waiting,” the other utters.

  I swallow hard, and reach for Dallas’s hand. Grabbing hold of it, the scratchy material of the ugly gloves stops me feeling her clammy hands. But the fact they’re shaking, tells me she’s nervous.

  The two of them wait until we’re near the door. One goes ahead, the other behind us. Herding us to our slaughter. Driving us to our slaying.

  The thickness of the air and the pounding of my heart inside my chest tells me tonight may be the end of us.

  The logical part of my brain tries to reason with the fear, but the fear is winning out.

  He won’t kill you or Dallas; he needs you.

  Yeah right, he’s a psychotic guy who had his own man killed.

  He needs you.

  The more my brain argues with itself, the more worked up I become.

  We both get to the gaudy foyer dripping in gold, and we’re hurried out the front door where there’s a limousine with black windows waiting for us. The back door opens, and Enzo steps out.

  “Ladies, you both look beautiful.” His words come across as wrong and super creepy. Like a pedophile trying to lure us into his car. The problem is, we have to go with him, because if we don’t, we die.

  I squeeze Dallas’s hand, and climb into the back of the limousine. Dallas follows quickly behind me. We sit on the bench seat, with me in the middle and Dallas closest to the opposite door. She quietly tries the handle, only to find it’s locked.

  Enzo is in the car within seconds, just in time to catch Dallas trying the lock. “Don’t bother trying, my dear. I’ll put a bullet in your brain after I torture you,” he says with his stupid accent. His one ugly eye glares at Dallas.

  “I . . .”

  “She didn’t mean to,” I interrupt whatever Dallas was going to say.

  The car begins down the long driveway and the air is thick with tension. Enzo stares at Dallas’s legs, then pulls himself together before he starts drooling like the dirty old man he is.

  “Where are we going?” I ask when I notice he’s composed himself.

  “A last-m
inute business meeting.”

  “What’s my role?” I ask.

  “I’ll introduce you to everyone. I want you to see if anyone is undercover police. DEA, FBI, any arm of the law.”

  Great. I imagine that if I rat someone out, they’re not going to go home to their family. And I’ll be responsible for their death.

  On the other hand, if I don’t tell Enzo what I see, and he figures out I’ve kept the information from him, then Dallas and I will die.

  My stomach knots as pain envelops my heart. Either way, someone will die.

  The choice is mine.

  And mine alone.

  “And if there are police?” I ask, afraid I already know what’ll happen.

  A sly smile tugs at his lips, sending a shiver up my spine as bile gathers at the base of my throat.

  “Then I’ll deal with them.” This remark makes me feel even sicker. How can someone be so callous when it comes to human life?

  Especially considering the person he’ll ‘deal with’ has probably woken up today like it’s any other day, kissed his family goodbye and left for work.

  Now I’m torn even more. Whose life do I sacrifice?

  Whose life means more?

  Who am I to decide?

  The rest of the car ride is spent in silence. In my head though, there’s so much turmoil happening. A cyclonic wave of devastation fills every inch of my mind. Either way, someone will die, and it all comes down to me who that someone will be.

  The best possible scenario is that no one is police, and I’ll be able to report my findings to Enzo. But considering his business, it’s likely someone is police. And I’ll have to make a decision based on what I know.

  My parents would be ashamed to know I gave up an officer of the law to Enzo. But then they’d be horrified to find me or Dallas dead, dumped in a ditch.

  So many thoughts are running through my mind. I’m trying to keep my body steady and not freak out, but I’m not doing a very good job of it. The sweat coating my palms is making the gloves I’m wearing sticky. And the sweat rolling down my back sends a cool shiver through my body.

  Who on earth would want to have what I have? No one. No one in their sane and logical mind would want this.