The Gift: The Butterfly Effect, Book 1.

by Margaret McHeyzer

  “You’re my girlfriend. Now go and get the gloves.”

  “Your what? Are you serious?”

  “Yes, get the gloves. I don’t want anyone even getting a slight indication of what you’re capable of.” He stands firm inside the door.

  “You really want me to wear those stupid gloves that won’t go with this outfit?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you go and get them. I’ll be waiting for you in the car.” The guy standing at the front door smirks at me as I walk toward him. He stands there, like a brick wall and doesn’t move. “Get out of my way.” He looks to Jude, who I hear chuckle from behind me. “Don’t look at him. I told you to move.” He looks again to Jude, and this pisses me off even more.

  “Move,” Jude instructs the guy at the door.

  He steps aside and opens the front door for me. I narrow my eyes at him as I walk past him. The moment I’m outside, I’m hit with the distinctive aroma of jasmine flowers. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply and take in the sweet aroma. “Jasmine this time of the year?” I ask myself as I look around the front of the ridiculously huge mansion. The walls aren’t stucco or brick, they’re huge sandstone boulders. As I step further out, I take in the magnificence and opulence of this place. “Wow,” I whisper as I look up to see the house towering proudly on the picturesque acreage.

  The sun is setting in the far distance, but it looks close enough that if I reach out I can touch it. It’ll be dark within moments, but the colors in the sky are majestic.

  The breathtaking sky doesn’t stop my heart hurting, and my curiosity piquing. My heart is aching because I’ll never see my parents again, and my curiosity is piqued because I have no idea where the hell Jude is taking me tonight. One thing I do know, I’m here to work for Jude and that’s all.

  A long black limousine pulls up in front of the house, and the driver, dressed identically to all the other men who work for Jude, gets out and comes to open the back door. “Miss Murphy,” he states as he looks ahead and not at me.

  I slide into the back, and within a couple of minutes Jude joins me. “Here,” he says and hands me the ugliest looking lacey gloves I’ve ever seen.

  “Oh, no way am I wearing those! No way.” I turn my head to look out the window.

  “Wear the damn gloves, Lexi.”

  “No. You somehow managed to pick a gorgeous dress, and pretty shoes, and the ugliest gloves I’ve ever laid eyes on. Don’t even think I’m putting those on my hands. They don’t even go with the dress.”

  The car rolls out of the long driveway and both of us are completely silent in the car. I look forward, staring at the back of the driver’s head. The partition slowly rises and I grumble internally.

  “Wear the damn gloves.” Jude thrusts them toward me.

  “No.” I turn my head and look out at the scenery.

  “Wear the damn gloves, Lexi!” he booms.

  His loud, rumbly voice instantly makes me flinch in my seat. I move further away from him and grasp at the door handle, ready for what’s to come.

  Closing my eyes I wait for the strike. I’ve made him angry, and this frightens me.

  Shut up, Lexi and do what he wants you to do. Your parents’ lives are on the line.

  “You’re shivering,” he says from beside me. “Here.” I turn to look at him, frightened. He leans forward, takes off his tuxedo jacket and holds it out to me. I eye the jacket, then my gaze travels back to him in question. “You’re cold.” He angles sideways and tries to throw his jacket over my shoulders.

  “I’m okay,” I reply in a small, meek voice.

  “For someone who has a smart mouth, you obviously can’t take what you dish out.”

  Swallowing the dread constricting my throat, I scrunch my brows together. “I can take it, I just can’t handle the fear.”

  “What are you scared of?” Again, he tries to drape his jacket around my shoulders.

  “Jude, do we have to go over this again? You’re keeping me here against my will.” He goes to open his mouth but I hold my hand up at him, halting him from speaking further. “I know what you’re going to say, but really, no matter how you word it, I’m here against my will. That frightens me. You frighten me. You yelling at me scares me.”

  “I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”

  This guy really doesn’t get it. “You may not hurt me, but I know what you’re capable of. One day, you may not like what I say or see . . .” I point to my eyes and refer to the visions I get, “ . . . and you may retaliate against me. I don’t want to be here. But I am, because my family means more to me than I mean to me.”

  His hard eyes soften, and this is the first time since he’s had me, that I think I’m getting through to him. He looks away from me, unable to meet my eyes. I can tell he’s thinking about this and how wrong it is, although, he also doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who cares about wrong or right. No quicker does he turn back, he puffs his chest out and lifts his chin. “You may not want to be here, but you are. So, wear the goddamn gloves.” He lifts them from the space between us on the bench and thrusts them toward me again. “Now,” he adds in the most eerie and deadpan voice.

  I reach over and take them, sliding them on my hands. I turn back to watch the outside, wishing for the day to come where I’ll be free from Jude and his reign of fear.

  “Thank you,” I hear him say in the smallest and quietest of voices. Swinging my head back, I try and get a look at his face, but he’s turned. The only thing I can see is his reflection in the window, and his ordinarily hard features appear troubled.

  “What do I have to do tonight?” I ask trying to change my own mood.

  “Alfred is a business associate, I need you to shake his hand and tell me what you see.”

  “You know I’m not sure how this thing works, right?”

  “Just tell me what you see.”

  “And if I see nothing?”

  “Then tell me.” He smiles at me, obviously aware of the crazy feelings running through me. I don’t want him to think I’m lying to him if I don’t see anything, because I don’t want my parents to die. “Whatever you see.” He reaches out and gently places his hand on my leg. When I look down, he quickly pulls back and shakes his head. “I apologize.”

  Letting out a deep sigh, I turn to study him. “You don’t act like a . . . you know, to me.”

  Amused, his lips perk up into a smile. “A ‘you know’?” he questions. “What’s a ‘you know’?” He air quotes.

  Grumbling, I tilt my head to the side. “You know?” I say again. “One of you people.”

  “Now I’m a ‘you people,’ please clarify. Oh, and I’m completely amused by this exchange.” He gestures between us.

  “Don’t be a jerk. You know what I mean.”

  “Please, don’t let me stop you. I really want to know what it is I am. Continue.” He leans forward, takes a glass, and pours some amber liquid from a decanter into it. The mini bar is stocked well, with a ton of medium sized alcoholic beverages in decanters. “I’d offer you a drink, however it’s illegal for a seventeen-year-old to consume alcohol.”

  “Seriously?” I spit toward him. “You’re worried it’s illegal for me to drink?”

  He swings his head around with a cheeky grin, “I was being sarcastic.”

  “More like idiotic,” I mumble and quickly bring my hand up to my mouth realizing I said it aloud. “Shit.”

  He rumbles with laughter before throwing the amber liquid down his throat in one smooth movement. “Please, you were saying what people like me do.”

  “You know what it is. We all know what it is.” I point to the driver who’s unable to hear us due to the privacy screen.

  “Come on, Lexi. I want to hear you say it.”

  “No.”

  “I think there’d be something quite sexy in saying the word.”

  My skin pebbles with excitement, and my stomach does this crazy flip when the word sexy rolls off his tongue. His dark eyes look strai
ght through me as if he can read my mind. One minute he has me shivering with fear, the next I’m trembling with excitement. Damn it, Lexi, get it together.

  “I’m not saying it. And we both know exactly who you are and what you do,” I defiantly add. He smiles at me again, and the stupid effect his contagious smile has on me, makes me scold myself. Again.

  “Okay, you don’t have to say it.” He chuckles. Damn him.

  “Considering I’m stuck here with you, and considering the chances of me ever leaving are incredibly low, you may as well tell me about yourself.”

  Jude lets out a laugh, throwing his head back as the sound of amusement erupts in the car. “You want me to tell you about myself?”

  “Did I just open Pandora’s box? Should I ask Scotty to beam me up?”

  “You know Star Trek?”

  “Oh please. Dad is a Trekkie, and I was always forced to watch it. Live long and prosper.” Bringing my hand up, I group my first two fingers, and last two fingers together.

  “You constantly surprise me, Lexi. Constantly.” His chuckle quickly dies down and he focuses on a spot on the bench seat. “I’m who I am because of my upbringing.”

  “I know nothing about you, Jude. Except for what I’ve seen on the television.”

  He steeples his fingers together and taps on his chin. “My father was in the business,” he starts but doesn’t clarify what ‘the business’ is. No need to, I’m no idiot. “He was killed in front of my eyes. My mother was then raped and tortured by the people who killed my father.”

  “Oh shit,” I say, bringing my hand up to rest on my heart. “Why?”

  Jude is lost in his own head, he has no idea I’m even here. The anger on his face tells a story, something quite sinister. “He refused to trade in children,” he says in an almost casual voice. “He didn’t want to be part of it. So, they killed him. They wanted more and more from him. He was a bad man, a cold-hearted killer. Anyone who’d cross him, he’d put down without asking questions. But when the people he was working for wanted him to trade in kids, he wouldn’t do it. He refused it. He’d argue with them at meetings, and they didn’t like it.”

  I want to reach out and touch him, give him a small amount of comfort, but I can’t. I can’t bring myself to give comfort to the man who’ll kill the ones I love if I leave. “And what happened?”

  Jude is still consumed by his own thoughts. His eyes are focused on a spot. “I watched them kill my parents. I watched what they did to them, and I vowed to hurt them more than they’d hurt me. Much more.” He blinks and slowly turns his head to seek my eyes. My body shudders with fear. Jude easily invokes panic from deep within. The look in his eyes tell me that he’s capable of inflicting horror. Horror I don’t ever want to experience.

  “You don’t have to tell me any more.”

  I don’t want to know anything else.

  “Over time I integrated easily, and I took them out. Slowly and painfully. I made them bleed. I made them hurt.” He chuckles at the obviously gruesome memory he has.

  My chest constricts as a terrifying chill rips through my body. Jude’s not telling me this to scare me, although he is. He’s telling me what he’s capable of. “There’s not a doubt in my mind, you made them hurt.” Not one iota of doubt.

  He takes a deep breath making his chest puff out, then contract. He lets out a humorless laugh. His face is hard, his jaw rigid with anger, though it’s not directed at me. His eyes though, they don’t hold anger, they’re full of hurt. “I showed them what torture really felt like, Lexi.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat, and hold my breath. How the hell do I respond? What do I say? I say nothing.

  Turning my head away from him, I look out the window and remain quiet. The circumstances were horrible, but I can’t agree with his actions. However, this does now make me see his situation differently. Clearly, he was born into a family where his father was involved with crime. It’s the age old saying: monkey see, monkey do. Would Jude be different if he was born into a family of law-abiding citizens as opposed to a family of criminals?

  I push the thoughts to the tiny compartment at the back of my mind. One where I really shouldn’t think like this, because, Jude has kidnapped me and told me he’ll kill everyone if I leave. I can’t allow myself to feel sorry for him; he’s not a good guy.

  We pull up to a beautiful, opulent house. The style is more modern then Jude’s but it’s just as ostentatious. I already know the wealth amassed here has been acquired through illegal activity.

  “You’re my girlfriend,” Jude announces as he opens the door to the limousine. “And therefore, I’ll be treating you like I would my girlfriend.”

  Huh? “What does that even mean?” I ask before he exists the car.

  “It means I’ll be touching you and kissing you.” I scowl while lifting my brows at him. “And it means you’re going to put on a show and pretend to be in love with me.” I scrunch my nose. He catches my reaction and laughs. “I don’t want them to know who you are. To be precise, I don’t want them to know what you’re capable of, so you’ll keep your gloves on until I introduce you to Alfred, then you’ll remove your gloves and shake his hand.”

  “Ugh, fine.” I’m a damn show pony, and I hate it.

  “And one more thing, you’re not to go anywhere, including the bathroom without one of my men with you. Do you understand?”

  Seriously? I nod my head. “Yeah.”

  “It’s for your safety. You’re gorgeous, young, look incredible in that dress, and I can guarantee there’ll be men here who’d love to push you up against a wall and have their way with you.”

  Bile quickly ascends to the back of my throat. “Lovely people you associate with.”

  “I’m sure half the women would love to have a piece of you too.”

  “Really? Just . . . stop.” Not that I have a problem with homosexual or bisexual people, but I’m not interested. “I’m here to work,” I say.

  Jude smiles, and leaves the car. My door opens, and a guy dressed in black holds his hand out to me. Extending my hand, I reach out to grab it but he’s quickly shoved away and Jude’s in his place. “You don’t touch her, ever,” he growls toward his own guy.

  “I’m sorry, Boss, I meant nothing by it,” the guy quickly replies.

  Jude holds his gaze, the menacing stare he’s giving his guy sends shocks through me. “Step away,” Jude barks.

  The guy steps back holding his hands up. Jude turns to face me, his features now softer and calmer. “Thank you,” I say as I grab hold of his hand to help me out.

  “My pleasure.” Once I’m out, he links our arms together and walks toward the front door.

  Another guy in black is standing at the entrance, marking people off as they enter. “Mr. Caley, welcome.” He doesn’t even make eye contact with me, and Jude completely ignores him.

  If I didn’t know the type of person Jude is, I’d think this fancy black-tie affair is above board and legal. “What’s happening here?” I ask Jude as we walk into a beautiful, marble foyer.

  “It’s a charity event.”

  A laugh rips through me, and Jude sideways glares at me. “What’s funny?”

  “What’s the event for?”

  “To raise money for a half-way house for women who’re transitioning from drugs.”

  I laugh again which earns me an eyebrow lift and a scowl. “Oh, come on, you can’t see the irony in this?” I whisper to him as he leads me to the left into a massive ballroom filled with beautiful people.

  He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly at me. “I don’t force anyone to buy drugs.”

  “How idiotic.” Suddenly sadness overtakes me. This is the type of event my parents would have gone to. A small spark of hope filters through me, maybe I’ll see them here. I already know the earth-shattering answer to my hopeful question. No, Jude wouldn’t bring me somewhere I’d possibly see my parents.

  “Champagne?” Jude offers when a waiter walks past us. He grabs two
and holds it out to me.

  “You want me to work, Jude. So . . . no.”

  He lifts his shoulders, drinks one of the flutes in a fluid motion and leaves both glasses on the edge of a small table already filled with empty glasses. He looks around the room, nods his head curtly toward a group of men on the other side. “The fat guy,” he says to me as he leans in and whispers into my ear.

  I look over his shoulder and see a short man, staring at me. He’s very rotund, with beady eyes that are glued to me, and he’s wearing pants that are way too short, ending above his ankles. “For someone who has money, you’d think his trousers would fit better.”

  Jude leans in even further, his cheek brushing against mine. Closing my eyes, I’m dragged into a vision. He’s pacing in his office, running his left hand through his hair while his right hand is to his ear, listening to whoever he’s speaking with on the phone.

  He’s stressed and worried.

  I’m back in the ballroom, and Jude’s pulled away while his eyes are focused on me. “What did you see?”

  “You were in your office, and you looked concerned. It was just a glimpse, nothing in depth.”

  He turns his head and looks around us. His body becomes rigid and he lifts his chin with authority. “Alfred is on his way over.”

  Blinking quickly, I center my attention to the now. Taking my gloves off, I hold them in my left hand, ready to work.

  “Jude, it’s good to see you,” the short, fat guy with ill-fitting pants says. His eyes are trained on me; he’s not looking at Jude at all. “Who’s this ravishing young lady?”

  God, he’s so sleazy. I watch as his gaze travels the length of my body, making me feel disgusting and dirty. I think I threw up in my mouth.

  “Alfred, please meet my girl, Alexa.”

  “Alexa, such a beautiful name for a delicious-looking woman.” He holds his hand out.

  “Don’t go getting any ideas. I’m keeping this one.” Jude turns to me, and winks.

  “I won’t steal her, but if she wants a real man, she can always come to me.”

  His voice makes my skin crawl, and his words makes me want to projectile vomit all over him. “Obviously, you’re referring to Jude.” I can’t help but look him up and down.