The Curse: The Butterfly Effect, Book 2.

by Margaret McHeyzer

  “You think you can survive out there on your own? You think me being here isn’t stopping every person with ulterior motives from taking you? It’s because of me you’re safe, it’s because of me you have somewhere to live.”

  “I can handle myself!” I shout.

  “You think you can, but you can’t. You’re naïve if you think you could.”

  “Naïve? Are you kidding me, Jude? I survived Enzo. I survived him.”

  “And I came in and saved the day.”

  The anger inside me is bubbling so hard it’s on the verge of spilling over. “No, you came in and got me out of there, but I saved myself.”

  He steps closer to me, he’s so close, I can almost feel his breath on me. “I saved you,” he says, cockily.

  Bam, and just with his ego, and his stupid admission of being my savior, my anger breaks the surface. I slap his face, hard. His head swings to the side, but he straightens and glares at me. A red hand print is rising on his cheek. “Oh, my God,” I whisper, completely stunned at myself for hitting him.

  “Without me, you’d still be at Enzo’s.”

  Why is he continuing to taunt me? I smack him again. “I’m not even sorry,” I say, standing taller.

  “You belong here.”

  Just shut up! Why is he still talking? And why is my body reacting the way it is? My heated blood boils, while my heart leaps to the back of my throat. Why am I feeling all these crazy emotions? In a split second, I lift my hand to hit him again, but he grabs onto my wrist, tugs me so forecefully I smash into his body, and crashes his lips to mine.

  I’m being dragged into a vision, but I’m enjoying—no, I’m hating—no wait, I’m enjoying—ugh.

  “Stop it.” I pull away and step back from Jude. “What the hell did you just do?”

  “I kissed you,” he suavely adds.

  “Why?”

  “Because you needed to be kissed.”

  I step backward, he steps forward. I step back again, he steps closer. “Stop coming closer.”

  “But I want to kiss you again.”

  I comb my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends. “I don’t care what you want.” I liked him kissing me. No, wait! What am I thinking? No, I didn’t.

  Yes, you did.

  He steps closer, I step back, my back finds the wall and I’m cornered, having nowhere to go. “Don’t,” I whisper looking him straight in the eyes.

  He rests his hand on the wall beside my head, he leans in and softly smells my hair. “Are you sure you don’t want me to kiss you again?”

  Oh, my God, what the hell is happening to me? No . . . I mean yes, I mean . . . damn it I don’t know what I mean. My chest feels like it’s heaving, as my breath rapidly escapes past my lips.

  His scent is right here, invading me. His body is hard, leaning into me. Everything about him is drawing me into his dangerous web. My mind screams at me to run, but my heart already knows what it wants. I’ve been entangled in his life since the moment I saw him.

  Slowly I lift my hand and grasp his tie. Without breaking eye contact, I pull him into me. His mouth hovers over mine, our eyes are glued to each other. He looks between both of mine, the hunger in his own growing with every passing second.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, a mere hairs breadth away from me.

  “No,” I whisper. “I’m not anywhere near sure.”

  He leans in further. His taut chest pressing into my breasts. Our exposed skin isn’t touching, but I want it to. “Then I won’t kiss you.” He lowers his nose to skim my jaw then down the column of my neck. He’s touching me, and I’m desperately fighting the vision that’s trying to pull me in.

  Instead, I focus on the now, and how my heart is frantically leaping. How my palms are sweaty and all I’m yearning for is his mouth on mine. “Don’t kiss me,” I say, absolutely lapping up the attention he’s giving me.

  “I won’t.” I feel his smirk against my skin. It feels to me like he’s familiarizing himself with me. He’s taking his time, smelling my neck, licking my hyper-sensitive skin. Finally, after what seems like hours he pulls away, leaning his forehead on mine. “I want to kiss you,” he whispers before kissing my nose.

  Yes! “No,” I whisper. Stupid body, why does it have to react this way? Why does it have to want him?

  “Not until you tell me you want it too.”

  “A mobster with morals.” The moment the words are out, I instantly regret them. He’s always kept that side of him away from me . . . except the time with the driver. . . . and what I see in the visions.

  “While I’m here, I’m just Jude,” he says not at all fazed by what I said. But I know I shouldn’t have said it.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper my apology. “I shouldn’t have said that about you.”

  He pulls away completely, and goes to sit on one of the seats. “You’re simply stating a fact.”

  Leaning against the wall, I push off and hesitantly make my way over to sit beside Jude. “You know . . .” I breathe in, my cheeks suddenly flushing at the memory of him kissing me, and me wanting to keep kissing him. “I was getting pulled into a vision, but I was enjoying . . .” I clear my throat and redden even more. “ . . . it so much I stopped the vision so I could keep . . .” Fidgeting I look away from him. “ . . . kissing you.”

  Why does my face feel like it’s on fire? Oh yeah, probably because it is.

  Jude chuckles loudly. “Was that uncomfortable for you?’

  You have no idea, buddy. “What? No, why?” Hell yes!

  “Your entire face is crimson. Candy apple red.”

  “Oh shit,” I mumble and cover my face with my hands. “No,” I finally say after a moment of having my head down. But, I can still feel the fire burning.

  “Then you do want to kiss me again?”

  Yes! “What?” He chuckles at me. “No, I don’t,” I say as my head nods ‘yes.’ Jude laughs again at me. “I’m hungry, dinner should be ready now.” Standing to my feet, I leave him in my suite and head out to the kitchen. I have to get out of here.

  I find the kitchen empty, two plates covered with silver domes placed on the long kitchen table. Crap, Frank’s already served everything, cleaned up, and left the kitchen. I feel so bad for letting him down. Even the chess set is packed up. Disappointment runs through me. I’ve let Frank down, and that in itself upsets me.

  Walking over to the table, I sit and lift the silver dome. Beneath is dinner, meatloaf with mac and cheese and greens. I sigh as I stare at the plate of love in front of me. He made this for me, and I can’t even play a game of chess with him or say thank you.

  “What’s wrong? Don’t you want it? Throw it out and I’ll take you to dinner,” Jude says as he sits in his seat and dismissively pushes his plate aside.

  “Don’t do that. Frank works really hard for you, he tries to make sure we’re fed properly. Don’t push it away like it means nothing.”

  “It’s just food. Frank doesn’t care if I eat here or out.”

  “Listen to yourself. Of course, he’d care. He wouldn’t want to waste his time making us something to eat if all we’re going to do is push it aside. So, no, I don’t want to go out to some super expensive restaurant when we have perfectly good food here.” I bring the plate closer to me and pick at my food. Truth be told, I’m not hungry now because I know I’ve let Frank down. I’ve treated him like just a member of the staff, and he’s so much more than that to me.

  “If it means so much to you, I’ll eat Frank’s dinner.” He picks his fork up, and begins eating, quickly shoveling it into his mouth.

  My eyes are glued to Jude. He’s eating super fast, and he has cheese sauce on the corner of his mouth. In a cliché moment, I lean over and wipe it off. Ugh, I feel like I’m in one of those romance movies where their eyes meet, the music becomes lush and soft, and he leans into her and kisses her. I burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of it all. “What?” he asks through a mouthful of food.

  I laugh some more and
the romantic movie has now become a Mr. Bean moment. Nothing romantic or tender about this at all. “Nothing,” I laugh again while still picking at my food.

  Once dinner is finished, I stand and take my plate over to the sink. Rinsing it off, I stack it in the dishwasher. Jude leaves his on the table. “What?” he asks when I shoot him a look of disbelief.

  “Seriously?” I ask, my eyes traveling between him and his plate. He shrugs indifferently and steps away from the table. I stop him before he leaves the kitchen by standing in front of him and placing my palm to his chest. The vibration of his heart beneath his shirt throbs strongly against my hand. This excites me, and makes me want to keep my hands on him. “Come on.” Titling my head to the side, I pleadingly gaze into his eyes.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he mumbles under his breath as he turns and grabs his plate. “This is what I pay Frank for.” He takes his plate over to the sink and half drops it, causing a loud clanging sound. “Don’t think I’m washing it up,” he sternly says to me.

  “Hey.” I hold my hands up yielding his macho stupidity.

  “Wanna watch a movie?” he asks. “I haven’t shown you the cinema room.”

  “You have a cinema room?” Why doesn’t this surprise me?

  “I have a lot of things here.” He smiles broadly at me.

  “Anything illegal I shouldn’t know about or any part I shouldn’t go to?” My heart pounds angrily. Please say no.

  “This is my home, Alexa, not my place of business. I don’t keep anything illegal here.”

  Phew. I exhale a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good.”

  “And especially not now that I have a permanent house guest, one I know is incredibly curious and would go on a mission to find anything illegal.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I look away before he figures out that’s exactly what I’d do.

  “So, how about a movie?”

  I’ve had way too much excitement tonight. Even though a part of me wants to be near Jude, another part of me is saying to take things slow and not rush into anything. “I’m going to go to bed.” I step away from him, and before I know it, he’s grabbed onto my upper arm and has me colliding into his chest.

  His lips are on mine and my mind is spinning. A whirlpool of emotions is being evoked. And a vision is desperately trying to make a connection with me, but I keep pushing it back, not wanting to see anything.

  Fever quickly rises between us. My heart beats strong as his mouth commands mine. He’s soft and gentle, though demanding and knowledgeable. I’m loving every moment of this kiss. I never want it to end.

  His hand snakes down to my lower back. He lifts my t-shirt, possessively splaying his hands on the small of my back. He pulls me in closer. My body is reacting to him, in a way that is starting to worry me.

  Pulling out of this scorching hot kiss, I lean my forehead on his chin. Closing my eyes, I bring myself back to the now, missing the intense and heated kiss immediately. His fingers are still caressing the skin of my lower back. I like it. The vision is still there, trying to grab me and drag me under. I concentrate hard on not allowing it to take me. I don’t want to leave this moment.

  I feel safe.

  “I need to go for a shower,” I whisper, but hope he doesn’t let me go.

  “Okay.” He kisses my forehead, his lips staying connected to my skin for long minutes.

  He doesn’t want to let me go; his hesitation is obvious. I don’t want him to release me either, but I’m nowhere near ready for this thing between us to progress. So much has happened to me, I need time to get my head on straight before I take this further with Jude.

  “Okay,” I respond.

  “Okay,” he says again, and this makes me smile.

  Pulling away from him, I don’t say anything. I turn and walk to my suite.

  Once I’m showered and changed into my pajamas, I slide into bed and turn a movie on. My eyes instantly drift closed, and the sound of the movie immediately becomes white noise.

  A persistent cough wakes me from the deep sleep I was in. Opening my eyes, they burn with pain. My coughing increases as I try and adjust my eyes to the darkness of my room. The television is off, the room is shrouded in heavy blankness.

  But a scent catches in my nose, and I sniff at the tell-tale sign of something burning. It’s a cross between electric and wooden. Slipping out of bed, I head out of the room and into the suite.

  I reach for the handle, and open the door to the suite. A thick cloud of smoke sits high near the ceiling. The thick, gray fog is growing quickly. “Shit!” I yell as I fall to the floor and crawl my way over to Jude’s room. We have a fire in the house. “Jude!” I yell as I bash on his door. I hear nothing. “Jude!” I beat on the door again, trying the handle only to find it’s locked.

  I get nothing.

  “Alexa,” both Frank and Ronan yell at me as they approach.

  “Jude, his door is locked and he’s not answering,” I cry, frightened at what’s going on in his room. “What’s happening?”

  “Get back.” Ronan moves me, steps back and lays a boot into Jude’s door. “Frank, get her out.” Frank tries to make me leave, but I shake my head all while Ronan kicks the door again, this time flinging it open.

  He runs in, and I follow straight behind him. “Miss, Alexa,” Frank says.

  “Go, I’ll be there in a moment,” I say to him. His face is stubborn, he’s not leaving me again. “Go!” But he doesn’t. He stays with me, ready to pounce and pull me out of this.

  The crackling of the fire in Jude’s room licks the walls. Thick orange and red flames engulf part of his space, and I look around to see where it’s coming from. It takes me all of a second to see the car hanging out of the wall. It looks like a ram raid. Someone’s managed to drive their car into the house. “What the . . . ?” Frank murmurs as we both stare at the car.

  There’s a man in the driver’s seat, slumped unmoving over the steering wheel. “What’s happening?” Looking around, I try and make sense of the scene. All I can see is fire, and the car and no Jude. “Help Ronan find Jude,” I yell to Frank.

  He looks just as lost as I am. He heads toward Ronan, and I’m left near the car. There’s a small fire coming from the engine, and I know it’s only a matter of time before it explodes. I need to see what’s happening. I go to the driver’s side. The window is shattered. I touch an exposed part of the driver’s body that isn’t covered in blood. I notice his chest heaving rapidly.

  I get nothing.

  Now’s not the time for my ability to leave me. I take my hand off him, and then lay it on him again. Closing my eyes, I get dragged under. I’m in his vision. I’m in blackness, complete and utter darkness.

  I pull out of the vision and look around me, trying to figure out why I’m getting nothing.

  It’s then I see it, sticking out from beneath his shirt ‒ a wire. A red and blue entwined wire.

  I move him, so I can see better, but I have a sick feeling in my stomach I already know what the wires mean. Strapped to his chest is a homemade device.

  A bomb.

  Turning, I run into Jude’s room. He’s lifeless on the bed. Ronan is trying to lift him, Frank’s helping too.

  “Get out now!” I yell. Running toward Jude, I have no time to notice his unconscious state. “The driver, he’s a suicide bomber,” I scream at Ronan and Frank.

  Both look at me quizzically for only a split second. Ronan kneels onto the bed, grabs Jude, and slings him over his shoulder. “Go, we’re right behind you,” he yells.

  Frank and I crouch down and try to get out of the house which is filling with smoke at an alarmingly fast rate.

  I try to look behind me, but the thickness of the smoke is preventing me from seeing anything. “Go, go, go!” I hear Frank’s voice.

  I make my way to the door, and out into the yard. The crackling of the fire behind me is becoming louder and louder. I try to turn to see where Ronan is, where Frank is, where Jude
is.

  The boom happens before I have a chance to see anything. It’s so loud, and so forceful it propels me forward. A sharp pain bites my shoulder, and something scrapes at my cheek, leaving an intense sting behind.

  The explosion was so powerful it threw me to the ground.

  Turning, I search for Frank, Ronan, and Jude.

  I see nothing but thick clouds of smoke bellowing from the house. The red flames are now caressing the exterior walls.

  They’re nowhere to be seen.

  My head is pounding as I try and stand. There’s another, smaller explosion, this one makes me squat down and protect my head, in case something comes flying over. It’s instinct, to avoid any debris that could potentially hit me.

  I stand again and look around. There’s so much mess, so much devastation. It feels like I’m sitting in a cinema and watching an action movie.

  Blanketed by blackness of the sky, the only illumination is the scorching fire encompassing the house. I see some of Jude’s men laying lifeless on the ground.

  Panic quickly closes in around me. My lungs burn as anxiety overtakes me.

  “Jude!” I yell as I stumble around and try to find my coordination. My ears are ringing, making it difficult to hear if anyone is calling for me. “Frank!” I shout louder. Still, I’m getting nothing. “Ronan.” Ringing. “Jude!”

  “Alexa,” I hear someone calling me. But I can’t work out who the someone is. “Alexa.”

  Turning in the direction of the voice, I see Ronan staggering toward me. “Where’s Jude?” I ask as I look around.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, not answering my question. He grabs hold of my upper arms and squeezes. The long-sleeved shirt I’m wearing prevents me from getting a vision. Thank God, because I doubt I’d be able to handle seeing something right now.

  “I’m fine. Where’s Jude?”

  “Are you okay?” he asks again with complete disregard of my question. I don’t think he can hear me.

  “I’m fine. Where the hell is Jude?” I peer past him, trying to locate Jude. My heart beats like crazy as I try to see him. But he’s nowhere to be seen. Shit, is he dead? “Where’s Jude!” I yell, but I don’t wait for a response. I take off to the other side of the house, trying to see through the smoke filling the air.