Broken Butterfly

by Cindy Patterson

  Please let him be there. God, please, I’m begging you. Thank you, Jesus, that I can trust in you to protect him.

  Eric would be all right. Nothing could happen to him. Not after everything they’d been through. She meditated over her claim, staring through the window on the long drive to Rachel’s house.

  Mr. Chamberlain’s car was parked in the driveway and Sebastian met them at the door. “Eric called.”

  Mallory pushed past her friends and stared into Sebastian’s face. Seeing him here and now wasn’t how she’d imagine it would be after so many months. His dark, smoky eyes brightened for one brief second.

  Everything’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about.

  “He told you he’s on his way. Right, Sebastian?” Mallory pleaded as she fell into the arms waiting to hold her. Tell me I’m right.

  “Mallory.” He pulled back, his eyes intent, his face contorted in a pained grimace. “The police have been called.”

  She jerked backward and Nancy embraced her.

  For several long minutes, Nancy held her. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  An image of Eric dressed in the black trench coat, the white collar standing tall against his neck lingered. “This is my fault. I should’ve never come here.”

  Nancy pulled Mallory back. “Don’t ever say that. Look at everyone here. There’s so much love in this room for you. Keep praying. God is with Eric right now. You have to trust in him.”

  “What will I do if something happens to him? I won’t be able to stand it.”

  The unfamiliar warmth of Nancy rubbing her back created an ache of all she’d missed these last few months. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

  Nancy led her to the couch and Andrew sat next to her, but said nothing. Mallory clenched her hands against the tight knots in her stomach. She didn’t know how much time passed, but it seemed an eternity. She gave into the mourning settled just below the surface and heaved. Where is he?

  Rachel’s phone shattered the silence. Mallory rushed to her side.

  “Hello.” Rachel held it to her ear with a vacant stare.

  Mallory bent to her quavering knees. “Is it Eric?”

  “Thank you, Mary.”

  Why would Mary be calling at this hour? It didn’t make sense.

  Rachel’s eyebrows squeezed together as she placed her hands on Mallory’s shoulders and opened her mouth in slow motion. “There’s been an accident.” The words cut through the thick air like a blade slicing through her gut.

  “What do you mean?” She searched Rachel’s moist eyes. “What kind of accident?”

  Paul rushed to Rachel’s side as Mallory pressed her hands against the cool, wood floor, unable to take a full breath. “What did my cousin have to say?”

  “They left the drama early, because of the freezing rain. There was a crash behind them. Thomas turned his buggy around to see what was happening.” Rachel squeezed Mallory’s shoulder. “There were two men in the truck. Both were taken to the hospital.” Rachel’s stricken eyes met Mallory’s. “Eric was one of the men. He was thrown from the vehicle.”

  “What? No.” Mallory stumbled backward.

  “He’s unconscious.” Rachel tightened her grip. “The next few hours are critical.”

  “We need to call his mother,” someone called out.

  “She already knows.”

  The words being spoken only feet away from her registered and Mallory scrambled to her feet and rushed toward the door. “We have to go.” She moved toward Paul’s truck, ice beating against her cheeks. She breathed deep and squared her shoulders. “We have to hurry?”

  Rachel and Paul followed as they ran out into the frigid, starless night. Sebastian opened the back door of Paul’s truck and moved in the space next to her.

  Faint images of Eric’s face filled her mind as memories of him as a boy blended together, creating a perfect vision of Dragonfly. There has to be a mistake. The sounds hovering around her drowned out as if in a deep underwater tunnel. She lowered her face into her hands. “This is all my fault. I should have left with Jake when he came for me.”

  Sebastian wrapped an arm around her. “Please don’t say that, my darling girl. He will never take you from us.”

  Mallory checked the clock on the dash, perched on the edge of the seat, her palms sweaty. Paul drove through the dark abandoned streets—toward what could change the rest of her life.

  A few minutes later, Andrew parked in the emergency room lot, and Mallory rushed toward the front. Sebastian asked the receptionist a question, but his words were mangled in her wave of confusion. She wanted to run down the stark, white corridor.

  Rachel slipped her arm through hers, their footsteps squeaking against the dark tile in an uneven rhythm. They reached the end of the hall, and her breathing quickened, the sanitized hospital scent lodged in her throat. What if Eric was lying there lifeless?

  She followed the others toward the elevator, her chest pounding as the door slid open and she walked inside. She reminded herself to breathe.

  The elevator stopped, and she hurried toward a cubicle.

  “May I help you?”

  “Eric Matthews.” Mallory’s lungs tightened as she waited for a response.

  The nurse punched a few keys on her keyboard. “He’s in surgery.” The waiting room is on the left.”

  She exhaled and fresh tears clouded her vision. Margie sat slouched in a corner chair, the pastor in the seat next to her. Mallory hurried across the room. Motionless, she grasped her purse and waited for the words that would remove her fear. But deep down she already knew that wouldn’t happen and she hated herself for it. As if by thinking the worst, she would somehow be responsible if Eric didn’t pull through this. The update about Eric wouldn’t bring comfort. Not tonight.

  The pastor stood and cleared his throat. “They’re doing everything they can. It’ll be a while before we know anything.”

  Everything they can. All her pent-up emotions surfaced as the three words wrenched through her like a dead weight—there was a chance he would live, a chance he would die. Mallory took Margie’s hand and they cried with unembarrassed sadness.

  Her eyes grew heavy with each passing hour—the prickling of flesh a comfort since hope remained.

  More time slipped away and the moon hid as sunrise dawned before the doctor entered the waiting room. “Eric Matthews.”

  Everyone stood.

  Margie spoke. “I’m his mother.”

  The doctor faced Margie. “I’m Dr. Sellars. How are you doing, Mrs. Matthews?”

  “I’m fine.” Margie stood. “How’s my son?”

  The doctor’s weak smile clenched a knot in Mallory’s stomach.

  “His body forced itself into a comma as a result of the trauma. The next few hours will determine a lot.” Dr. Sellars drew a single breath. “Only one may go back at the time for now.”

  Margie followed and disappeared with him around the corner.

  God, please heal whatever’s hurting him. Please forgive me for dragging him into this. I love him so much. Please don’t take him from me now. Please.

  Time seemed to stand still as she searched the entryway over and over. Mallory grasped the seats edge when Margie finally returned.

  “Go to him, dear.”

  Mallory stood on shaky knees. The entrance to intensive care opened and she stepped through the double doors, the spaces separated with glaring, white sheets.

  A nurse met her at the entrance. “You’re here to see Eric Matthews?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Follow me.” She led her toward the last curtain on the left.

  Mallory moved toward the mobile bed, her core hollow. A white sheet covered everything but his face. Seeing his swollen face, she stumbled back.

  “I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes.”
The nurse pulled the curtain.

  Mallory brushed her fingers against his warm, bloated cheek. The strong scent of alcohol mixed with the stench of sickness tightened her throat.

  He made no movement—no nothing. Mallory stared into his precious face, his alive, breathing face and leaned against the bed. Her body convulsed in silent, agonizing grief. Her tears dripped against the white sheet tucked tightly around his body.

  “I’m so sorry, Eric.” She gasped between a sharp inhale of disinfected air. “Please. You have to be all right. You can’t leave me now.”

  Only five minutes had passed before the nurse poked her head around the curtain, interrupting her silent prayer.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll need you to step out for a minute. You can wait right here.”

  Mallory followed the nurse toward the station as the doctor and another nurse moved inside Eric’s makeshift room.

  “Do you know the other young man?”

  With a sudden shift, Mallory twisted around to face the nurse as a brush of dizziness seized her. “The other man?”

  “Jacob Davis, the other man in the accident.”

  “He’s here?” Mallory grabbed the counter.

  The nurse nodded. “Do you know him? We have no contact for family.”

  “I’m his …” She stopped. She was nothing to him. He’d told her that many times. “How is he?” Mallory edged backward. “Where is he?”

  The nurse motioned toward the curtain directly next to Eric’s.

  Mallory’s weakened knees wobbled, and she pressed against the cold, white counter.

  The nurse looked toward the station. “Dr. Stellars.” He joined them. “She is also here for Jake Davis.”

  The doctor moved in close and placed a hand on her shoulder. “There’s internal bleeding. He’s suffered severe trauma.” He looked at her with a peculiar expression. “I’m so sorry, young lady. We’ve done everything we can.”

  “Thank you.” Mallory’s body slumped, her thoughts racing against a mixture of fear and disbelief.

  The nurse walked toward the white curtain—the only thing separating them.

  Taking slow, terror filled steps, Mallory followed the nurse. What am I doing?

  Mallory stopped only feet from the possible danger waiting on the other side. “He won’t know I’m here?”

  She nodded, with a mirthless smile. “But this may be the only chance you’ll have to say goodbye.”

  Good-bye? I have no choice. I have to know.

  Mallory walked past the thin sheet the nurse held in her hand. Her pulse trampled with fierce speed as she took a step closer. The familiar face that had tortured her for years was revealed from behind the cover of blankets, and a sharp gasp slipped from her throat.

  For one brief moment she mourned for him. He’d never known anything but hate in his wicked, warped way of thinking. Would he go to the hell the pastor preached? He’d had many chances, and so had she. Never believing, he mocked anyone who’d tried to tell him about Jesus. Mallory stared at his hands, the same ones that had tried to kill her. She studied his battered face and grief suffocated her because of the relief seeping through her.

  Thank you, Jesus, for not giving up on me.

  “Good-bye, Jake.” With one last glance, she moved from the bed when his strong, calloused hand grabbed hers.

  Her shrill shriek screamed through the room when she turned and found his eyes wide open.

  Thirty-Eight

  Mallory snatched away from Jake’s grip and ran into the curtain. Its long, thin cover entangled her arms and molded against her face.

  When the nurse appeared, Mallory pushed through the material and raced past her toward the nurse’s station.

  “Code blue, code blue. A-101.”

  Doctors and nurses rushed past her as she stumbled out into the open and ran toward the double doors. Someone from behind touched her shoulder. Mallory jumped, her cry blending with the commotion just yards away.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’ll have to go to the waiting area.”

  Bile rose in the back of her throat. “What’s happening?”

  “We’ll let you know as soon as we know something.”

  The doors opened giving her the freedom she craved, but she turned hoping for an answer. Who were they working on? It was too late. The doors automatically closed behind her, blocking her vision. Was it Eric?

  Mallory flinched as someone moved next to her.

  “Oh, Ms. Margie!” Mallory fell into her arms and held her tight for several minutes before they ambled toward the waiting room.

  Rachel gently grasped her shoulder. “Mallory, what is it?”

  Shudders raced through Mallory’s body, trapping her with their icy limbs. Margie took her hand as Mallory dropped into a seat. “I … it was him. He grabbed me.” The steady motion of someone rubbing her back released the harsh cries threatening to suffocate her. Mallory stared toward the open doorway waiting for someone to step through and promise her Eric was all right. Standing, she moved closer and peeked around the corner. She had to know.

  “Who?”

  “Eric grabbed you?”

  “How is he?”

  Mallory shook her head, her throat closing as her friends’ questions ran into each other, each anxious for answers.

  “Let’s give her a minute to calm down.” Paul’s firm, yet gentle demand caused a hush to settle across the room.

  “They … the nurse … something happened.”

  “Ma’am?” The doctor’s familiar voice broke through the hazy darkness sweeping through her mind. “Can I speak to you in private?”

  Everyone in the room stilled.

  “Eric?”

  “No, it can’t be.”

  Strong arms wound tightly around her. “It’s going to be all right.”

  Margie stood. “It’s all right. We’re all family.”

  Mallory didn’t dare blink as she waited for the answer that could destroy her.

  Moving toward Mallory, the doctor kept his gaze locked with hers. “I’m sorry.” Pausing, his gaze fell to the floor. “Jacob Davis didn’t make it.”

  Loud, untamed gasps echoed through the waiting area.

  Rachel grabbed her hand with a strong squeeze. “Eric Matthews? How is he?”

  “There’s no change.”

  With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Mallory pushed her footsteps forward, still grasping Rachel and Ms. Margie’s hands.

  The lines between the doctor’s brows crinkled. “Is there someone we can call about Mr. Davis?”

  When Mallory hesitated, Rachel took a step forward. “She’s shaken, if you’ll give her just a minute. Thank you.”

  Jake had no one—no one but me.

  For days, Mallory slept in a recliner next to Eric’s bed, until first light when she would move closer, and for hours hold his hand.

  The doctor woke her from a restless sleep. “We see some improvement and plan to move him into another room sometime today. We’re keeping him sedated to help ease his pain. We’ll pull the meds away gradually.”

  Mallory stared at the gashes revealed from under the wrap on his head. “He woke up?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “How long?”

  “Only a few minutes. We’ll keep a close eye on him.” He gave a warm smile. “This is a good thing. You should go home and get some rest. He’s come through the worst part.”

  I should’ve been awake.

  Mallory clasped his hand. “Thank you, for everything.”

  Waiting in the lobby on the first floor, Mallory stared as people walked past, some with smiles. Her life had come to a dead stop only days ago. He’s getting better. The three words launched a trail of desperate joy through her soul.

  She stood as Rachel pulled her car to the curb. This would be the first time she’d l
eft. She sank into the passenger seat. “Thank you for picking me up.”

  The lines between Rachel’s brows creased. “I’m glad you’re taking a break.”

  This wasn’t a real break. She needed to hurry and get back. “I need to take a shower and grab a few things.”

  Rachel stared straight ahead. “All of your things are gone.” Heat rushed to Mallory’s cheeks. “You were going to leave.”

  Mallory nodded. “They’re in the trunk of my car.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Rachel’s pain-filled voice drove a wedge through Mallory’s middle.

  “I’m sorry. I knew you would tell Eric, and he would’ve gotten hurt.” Unleashed guilt crushed like a ton of dead weight. Jake had almost killed them both.

  “He’s going to be all right. The doctor told you.”

  Shaking her head, Mallory couldn’t speak. Her bitter agony pressed to the surface.

  Thirty-Nine

  Nightmares of Jake surviving and Eric dying filled her dreams. Lying awake for hours, she watched the motion of Eric’s chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. Not until a few nights later when she climbed into his bed was she able to rest. Holding his warm hand in hers, the humming of his steady breathing eased her mind. Sleep prevailed as she relaxed. He was safe—she was safe for the first time in a long time.

  Mallory woke and twisted to face him. His hand was wrapped loosely in hers, and his eyes were open watching her.

  Startled, she moved, and he grunted.

  “Eric? You’re awake.” She rubbed her eyes, breathless. “You’re awake.” She shifted, giving him more room. “I need to get the nurse.”

  He squeezed her hand, and the reality of what was happening assailed. She couldn’t move. The strength of his grip could only mean one thing. He was getting stronger.

  “Please, don’t leave.” His rough, weak voice that she’d missed hearing for days reverberated through her soul.

  “You’re awake.”

  “I have been for a while … watching you.”

  “What?”

  “The nurse came in while you were sleeping.”

  Mallory glanced at the clock. It was four hours later.