The Gift: The Butterfly Effect, Book 1.

by Margaret McHeyzer

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I take it out to see it’s Mom calling me. “Hang on,” I say to Dallas before answering Mom’s call. “Hey.”

  “Lexi, are you okay?” she asks. Although she’s trying to conceal it, I can tell there’s panic in her voice.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Ice rips through my spine, and I know Mom doesn’t call to ask if I’m okay. Something’s off. I can feel it.

  “I’ve called the school and told them you need to come home.”

  “What? I only just got here.”

  “Your father is coming for you now, you have to go and wait for him.”

  My heart is thumping in my chest and the hairs on my arms stand to attention. It’s like every one of my senses are on high alert. Someone down the hall drops something heavy on the stark concrete floor. Instantly my head turns to see what’s going on, and I know I’m hyper-aware of everyone and everything happening right now. “Mom, you’re scaring me.” My palms coat in a fine sheen of sweat.

  “What’s wrong?” Dallas asks. Her brows are drawn together, she’s worried.

  “The school knows you’re going, so get your bag and go wait for your father. No matter who else comes, only get in the car with Dad.”

  “I have to go, I’ll call you later,” I say to Dallas as I turn and head toward my locker not waiting to hear Dallas’s response. “Okay, I’m going to my locker to get my bag. Mom, please tell me you’re alright.”

  “We’re fine, but I need to get you home. I can’t leave yet, but I’ll be home within the next hour and I’ll explain it all then.”

  “Are you safe?” I ask, really hoping the answer isn’t going to freak me out more than I already am.

  “For now, I am.”

  Bile quickly rises to the back of my throat, and now my body has gone into full on panic mode. “For now?”

  “I’ll stay on the line until Dad gets there. But you have to hurry up.”

  “Mom, this is really scaring me.” I get to my locker, grab my bag, and walk outside. “He’s not here yet,” I say as I get to the front of the school and look up and down the street for Dad.

  “He shouldn’t be too long.”

  “Okay.” My breathing changes and in this moment, I feel like I’m lost. Isolated from my family, and hoping everything is okay. I keep looking, and see our car approach from down the street. “He’s here.” I run down the steps and wait for Dad to pull up at the curb. “Bye, Mom, I’ll see you when you get home.”

  “It’s your father?” Her voice is now dripping with concern.

  Jesus, what is going on? I see Dad through the front windscreen and wave to him. “Yeah, it’s Dad.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you when I get home.”

  I hang up from Mom and step closer to the curb. Dad pulls up in front of me, and waits ’til I’m inside. He flicks the switch on the driver’s door, locking the car. “Dad,” I say. I’m desperate to find out what’s happening.

  He puffs his chest out while releasing a slow, strained breath. “Your mother will be home soon and we’ll explain everything.”

  Ugh, I hate not knowing. “Dad, this whole secrecy thing is scaring me. Put my mind at ease and tell me you and Mom are both okay.”

  “We’re both okay.” The crack in his voice sings a different story, and the tension in his shoulders confirms it. He looks over at my hands, and notices the gloves. “You cold?” he asks, concerned.

  “I . . . um, wanted to wear them. You know?”

  Dad nods his head and presses his mouth into a thin line.

  As we drive in silence toward home, Dad keeps looking in the rearview mirror, constantly on high alert. Taking my glove off, I grip his hand hoping to see something, but I get nothing from him. I haven’t been able to get anything from either of my parents.

  Dad gets home quite quickly and pulls into the driveway, presses the remote for the garage, and rolls his car into it. I get out and head inside just as the garage door is lowering. When I get into the family room, I toss my bag on one of the chairs and sink into our oversized, cream colored sofa. I’m so damn nervous about what’s happening, that I try to ease myself by tapping my hand on my leg.

  What if they’ve learnt about these crazy visions I’ve been having? What if they’re going to question me about them? Oh crap, what if they want to send me to a psychiatrist because they think there’s something wrong with me?

  Is there something wrong with me?

  Am I imagining everything I’ve seen? Am I losing my mind?

  The tension inside my body is sending me over the edge with angst and worry. Standing I head down the hall toward my bathroom. “Where are you going?” Dad calls sharply as he appears at the mouth of the hall.

  “To the bathroom.” Yeah, like his tone isn’t scaring the crap out of me, or the fact he’s even asked. Now I know, for sure, something is going on.

  “Don’t go outside the house.”

  My palpitating heart increases in its constant thumping against my chest cavity. “I won’t.” What is going on?

  I lock myself in my bathroom, and go over to the vanity. I let the faucet run, ensuring the water is as icy cold as it can be before splashing it onto my face. Taking a deep breath, I look up to the mirror and stare at my reflection.

  My dark brown hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and my normally clear complexion is splotched with redness. My green eyes are marked with visible red veins. Anyone looking at me can see the tension, the stress, and the worry.

  I stay in here for a while, examining my face. All I know is my pulse is rapidly vibrating through my body and my heart won’t calm. What if they know?

  As I’m splashing water on my face, there’s a sharp rapping at the door. It makes me jump in fright, while my blood chills in anticipation.

  “Lexi,” Mom’s normally smooth voice sounds panicked. “I’m home.”

  I don’t even bother drying my face, instead I throw the door open and launch myself into her arms. She easily accepts my body being flung into her petite frame. “What’s going on? I’m so scared,” I whisper.

  “Everything will be okay, but there are some changes coming for the next few months.”

  She leads me out to the family room, where Dad’s sitting and by the front door is a heavy-set guy in a suit that doesn’t fit him properly. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and he eyes me suspiciously as we walk out to join Dad.

  “What’s going on?”

  Please don’t tell me you know. Please.

  Dad pats the huge sofa cushion beside him, and I move to sit. Mom grabs one of the chairs from the dining room and brings it over to sit between Dad and me. “Okay.” She takes a deep breath, looks to Dad then starts, “I’ve been working on a case that is sensitive.”

  My brows furrow together and suddenly I’m relieved this has nothing to do with me, and what I’ve been experiencing. “Okay.” I drag the word out, still skeptical although somewhat comforted. Both emotions drag through me, I’m happy it’s not me, but worried as well.

  “The case has become quite volatile.”

  “Volatile? How?” I look to Dad and he gives me a weak smile.

  “I can’t discuss it, however, there will be a few changes happening.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, Marcus.” Dad points to the guy by the door, who’s been standing still as a statue.

  “What about Marcus?”

  “He’s going to be your bodyguard.”

  “My what?” I nearly yell. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  “Unfortunately, Lexi, yes you do. You really do,” Dad’s voice softens and I can hear the fear radiating from him.

  “What does this mean?” I look back over to Marcus. “For how long?”

  “Until the case is finished, and then maybe some time after that too,” Mom answers.

  “And I suppose you can’t tell me why I need him?” I point to Marcus; whose immobile expression tells me he’s heard my questions many times befo
re.

  “I can’t say anything right now, although you’ll probably hear all about it over the next couple of weeks.”

  “Mom,” I let out a long-drawn breath. “Are you going to be okay? Are you and Dad safe?”

  “We’ll be fine, because we have security assigned to us, too,” Dad says.

  Instantly my head whips around to look at Marcus again. “Where are they?” Marcus remains stoic. He says nothing. He’s a chatty guy.

  “They’re outside. Marcus will be your bodyguard and will accompany you everywhere you go. I don’t want you going anywhere without him.”

  “Madam, if I may?” He speaks, Marcus actually speaks.

  He’s an older guy, around the same age as my parents. The lines around his eyes tell a tale of the things he’s seen. And I figure they’re things no human would want to see. There’s something about him, a small, niggling feeling eating away at me.

  “Of course, please,” Mom answers Marcus’s question.

  He steps forward, and starts to speak in his deep, gruff voice. “Miss Murphy, I’ve done this many times, and I can guarantee you, I won’t be a nuisance to you at school. And I certainly won’t cause you any embarrassment.”

  Standing I head over to him. I need to know for sure that he can be trusted. “It’s rude of me not to introduce myself.” I stick my hand out to him, and wait for him to accept it and for the vision to happen.

  He extends his hand, wraps his fingers around mine.

  And I’m in his vision. He’s alone in a car, there’s no noise, no music, no voices. He’s got a dark pair of glasses over his eyes and he sits rigidly, driving.

  I look around to see where we are, but it’s dark and there’s no light anywhere. This is so bizarre. There are no landmarks, no hints as to where he is. Desperately I search for something, anything. But I’m not getting any clues.

  I’m back in my family room, and Marcus looks at me with suspicious eyes. His gaze slowly goes down to my hands, as the corner of his mouth draws up in the smallest and creepiest tug. “I think we’re going to get on just fine, Judge Murphy.”

  Terror enshrouds me. He’s hiding something and I’m not sure what. How could he be driving and there was no noise, no sound, nothing in the background? How is that even possible? And why is he wearing dark glasses to drive at night? He’s definitely hiding something.

  “Yeah, Mom, I’m sure Marcus and I will be fine.” I’m not going to say anything to my parents. First, they’ll think something’s wrong with me, second, they wouldn’t understand and third, there’s a rock sitting in the pit of my stomach that tells me, this is about me. All about me.

  And all about my gift.

  A gift I now accept as part of me, and a gift I know no one can ever find out about.

  “Are you ready, Miss Murphy?” Marcus asks as he stands by the front door.

  My parents have left to go to work already, and are entrusting Marcus with my safety. I’m okay with this, because it means my parents are away from here and away from him.

  Mom told me last night, Marcus is my main bodyguard, and there’s another person, a woman by the name of Laura who’ll be on guard through the evening until Marcus returns in the morning.

  I didn’t meet Laura last night, apparently, she stays outside my bedroom window. Weird, I know.

  “Grabbing my bag.” I slip my gloves on, and slide a thin long-sleeved sweater over my shoulders.

  He waits by the front door, and when I approach him, he opens it for me. “It’s a beautiful day outside.” He looks me over, his glance taking in my gloves and long-sleeved sweater.

  “It is,” I reply with a saccharine smile.

  As I walk through the door, I feel his hand go to my lower back. Instantly, the hair on the base of my neck stands to attention. I whip my head around and glare at his offending hand. He snatches it away, but his eyes are looking straight at me.

  Something is so off about him. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m going to find out.

  We get to the car, and he opens the front door for me. I opt to get in the back, and away from him. I don’t like him. I’ve still got this niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “I hear it’s your birthday soon,” he says as we start toward school.

  “It is.”

  “Are you and Dallas doing anything special for it?”

  Icy cold shards rip up my spine when he mentions Dallas’s name. “Not sure.” It’s like he’s trying to tell me he knows a lot about me, maybe even warning me.

  “If you and Dallas do something, then I’ll have to accompany you.” Yep, a definite warning.

  A smile jerks on my lips, I feel like being a smart ass to him. “Anywhere we go?”

  “My orders are to ensure your safety.” He stops talking, but I can sense he wants to say more.

  “Dallas and I might hang out in the girls’ bathroom.”

  “Then I’ll wait for you outside the door.”

  “You’re not squeamish, are you? We’re girls; we talk about all kinds of things.”

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “There’s nothing you can say to make me squirm. I’ve heard it all. I’ve been trained . . .” He pulls away from the sentence before he continues.

  Interesting. “You’ve been trained to . . . ?” I question.

  “I’ve been trained to be discreet,” his voice changes into a flatter, more reserved tone.

  “Okay,” I reply, knowing that’s not what he wanted to say.

  We arrive at school and Marcus parks toward the front. I’m out and walking away without waiting for him. I’m sure he has my class schedule and he knows where I’m going. He seems to know a lot about me, without me telling him.

  I head into the science room to find Dallas; whose purple hair looks more vibrant today then yesterday.

  “Girl,” she yelps the moment she sees me. “What the hell happened? I tried calling you but your phone was switched off.” I hear the footsteps and know, Marcus is standing behind me. Dallas’s brown eyes look at him, then me, then back to him. “Can I help you?” she asks as she steps forward and in front on me.

  “He’s with me,” I say before Marcus can respond.

  She turns and looks at me. Now we’ve swapped positions, and I’m looking at Marcus while Dallas’s back is to him. “What’s going on? What’s with the heavy?” She thumbs over her shoulder.

  “A few things are going on with Mom and her work, so he’s here for me.”

  She crinkles her nose and leans in to whisper, “He goes everywhere you do?”

  “Afraid so.” I nod my head and smirk at her.

  “Everywhere?”

  Marcus remains impassive and cold with his features. “Yep, everywhere.”

  “Ugh.” She sighs and slumps her shoulders. “Well that sucks, having a babysitter, but, anyway.” She shrugs and smiles at me. “I may as well introduce myself.” Her eyes widen and she plasters a fake smile on her face. Turning quickly on her heels, she walks over to Marcus and sticks her hand out waiting for him to take it.

  Marcus looks down at her hand, as if it’s contaminated. “He’s not very vocal or accommodating,” I announce from behind her.

  “Hi, I’m Dallas, and I’m Lexi’s best friend.” He continues to stare at her, cool and unresponsive. “I’m not going away until you shake my hand and introduce yourself.” She juts her hand out further to him. He continues to stare at her, blinking occasionally.

  Walking toward her, I can see her smile growing even further.

  She’s so infectious and has the biggest heart known to man.

  “He’s a robot,” I say to Dallas.

  Marcus’s brows draw together in the slightest of movements. His mouth only just pulls at the corners. “Marcus,” he announces in his deep ‘don’t mess with me’ voice. But he refuses to shake her hand.

  Which intrigues me even more, because I know with me, he was the complete opposite.

  “See, it wasn’t that bad, was it?” Dallas teas
es, but her hand drops beside her, unsuccessful at garnering any more than a one word answer.

  Marcus goes back to looking like a statue.

  The bell sounds. Dallas grabs her bag and we head to our first class, which happens to be English.

  As we get into class, Marcus also enters and stands at the back of the room. My face flames, and my eyes widen while I look around at the class and notice everyone’s staring at him.

  I stand and walk over to him, completely embarrassed. “You have to stay outside the door.”

  “No.” He straightens his back and looks ahead, past me.

  “Marcus, you’re going to embarrass me. Please, stand outside the door,” I say, more firmly.

  He continues to look past me. With his deadpan face, and deep, gruffly voice, he adds, “No.”

  “Ugh,” I grumble as I take my phone out of my pocket and head out into the hallway. My shadow is only feet away from me.

  Dialing Mom’s number, she picks up virtually straight away. “Is everything okay?” there’s panic creeping into her voice.

  “Mom, Marcus is standing in my classroom. In it! Not outside the door, he’s inside. Ugh, can you tell him to go out in the hallway? It’s embarrassing.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart, but your safety is my only concern. I really don’t care if it’s cool or not, the fact is, with him there, you’re safe.”

  Looking over to Marcus, who’s still standing like a statue, he grins—as if he knows what Mom’s said. “Mom,” I plead with her.

  “Sorry, but no,” her voice becomes hard. She’s using her ‘judge’ voice on me. I hate it when she does that, because it scares the crap out of me.

  Yes, I know. I’m nearly seventeen and scared of my mommy. I’ve heard how some hardened criminals are petrified of her, so what chance do I stand when she goes all authoritarian on me?

  “Mom,” I try my hardest again.

  “Is that all, Alexa?”

  Damn it, she’s using my full name. Now I know there’s no more discussing this matter. “Yes, Mom,” I mumble, defeated.

  “If you need anything, call me, okay?”

  Yeah right, I do need something, for G.I Joe to stand outside the classroom and not inside where everyone is going to question me about who he is and what he’s doing here. “Yes, Mom.”