Broken Butterfly: Fallen Brook Series: Book 3

by Jennilynn Wyer

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to do this,” she says from the other room. I told her to put on a bathing suit so we could take a dip in the lagoon before dinner.

  “Get your ass out here or I’m coming in to get you.”

  “Not fair! There are no doors in this place,” she grumbles, and I chuckle.

  Elizabeth tentatively walks out of the bedroom, and my mind goes blank for a second. She’s wearing a two-piece bikini set we found in New York City. My gaze lingers on the swell of her breasts then travels down. Fuck me. She has her hair piled up on top of her head. Her skin is pale and luminous. Her long legs are lean and toned. I follow the path of her butterfly tattoos before my eyes land on the vertical scar that starts at her navel.

  “Stop it, Fallon.” She covers her abdomen using her arms and hands. “The way you’re looking at me is exactly why I’m not ready to expose myself like this.”

  “How am I looking at you?” I cock my head at her.

  “You’re scowling like my scars either disgust you or you pity me.” I didn’t realize I was scowling.

  “Disgust was the furthest thing from my mind,” I assure her.

  “You pity me, then.”

  I walk up to her, moving her hands to dangle by her sides and trail my fingers up the soft skin of her arms. She shivers. The devil in me comes out to play. My fingers glide down the sides of her torso and she pulls in a shaky breath. I tempt fate by splaying my hands across her abdomen, gliding them up, so they stop just below the curve of her breasts. Elizabeth closes her eyes and her lips part slightly, little puffs of air escaping like the fluttering of tiny wings.

  “Does this feel like pity to you?” I exhale against the shell of her ear. “Now, let’s go and enjoy ourselves, shall we? Don’t forget to put on your robe and slippers.”

  I walk out of the suite, leaving a dazed and glassy-eyed Elizabeth standing in the middle of the room. I adjust the painful hard-on I’m sporting as I hit the elevator button.

  Elizabeth is floating on a thin mat beside me, and every so often she’ll wiggle her fingers and toes in the warm water and sigh. “This feels so fucking unbelievably good.”

  “Told you.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Depends on the question,” I tell her, and she starts to giggle. “Did I say something funny?”

  “Don’t you remember?” she asks me. I turn my head on my mat to look at her. “You said basically the same thing to me at Curtis’s party.”

  “Did I?” I don’t remember much from those days. I made sure to live every hour wasted, high, or with my dick shoved up some random girl’s pussy.

  She stops giggling. “Yeah, you did. Why did you stop?”

  I know exactly what she’s talking about. My propensity for using drugs, mostly weed, to numb my pain was strong back then. “Something happened that made me open my eyes for the first time and see how I had wasted most of my life.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  Why does hearing her say that inject me with an enormous surge of joy that shoots straight to my blackened heart?

  “You shouldn’t be. I’m still damaged. I’m still dangerous.”

  “Not to me.”

  She couldn’t be more wrong.

  Elizabeth floats closer to me. “Have you ever been in love, Fallon?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Julien always tells me that my capacity for love is infinite. I guess, maybe, that’s how I can love him, Jayson, and Ryder at the same time. But I think there’s a difference between loving someone and falling in love with someone. Love changes and evolves over time, don’t you think?”

  I remain silent and watch the misty vapor rise from the water while listening to her melodic voice.

  “Love is constant like the sunrise and sunset. You know they will always happen, just like your love for someone will always be in your heart, even if you aren’t in love with them. I’m not making much sense, am I?”

  “You’re naïve, kitten. Love is just an illusion. It’s a word used to justify possession and jealousy. If love was real, it would last. Couples say they love one another then break up a year later. A husband will tell his wife he loves her every day, then fucks anything in a skirt behind her back. Parents say they love their children then ignore them or abuse them. Love is complete bullshit.”

  “You’re wrong, Fallon.”

  “Am I? You can’t even decide who you love, Elizabeth. Your entire life, you’ve been manipulating three men who say they love you and who you say you love in return. You’re a coward. That’s not love. That’s you being scared and selfish.”

  “Fuck you, Fallon. How dare you presume to know anything about me or how I feel? I have loved more deeply than your cold heart could ever comprehend. I ran because I’m broken and no good to anyone right now, including myself. I had a life that was taken from me. I survived what He did to me and was building a new life, one that I cherished and wanted more than anything. Then that was taken from me too, just like my daughter. So fuck you!”

  Elizabeth jumps off her floating mat and swims away from me, heading back in the direction of the hotel. Daughter? What the hell is she talking about?

  “Elizabeth!” I yell at her. She doesn’t stop but does toss back her middle finger at me as she gets out of the water and puts on a robe. Shit! I go after her.

  I catch up to her in our room. “You said daughter. What the hell did you mean by that?”

  “And I said fuck off.” She glares at me. If I were a smart man, I would back off and leave her alone.

  “What did you mean, Elizabeth?”

  She grabs her suitcase from the closet and begins throwing items haphazardly into it. If she thinks I’ll let her walk out of this room or allow her to leave me, she is out of her goddamn mind. I yank the case from the bed and throw it across the floor.

  “You are such an immature asshat.”

  “Tell me something I don’t already know. What daughter?” I’m like a pit bull unwilling to let go. She tries to move past me, but I push her back. I’ll get physical with her if I need to.

  “What daughter?” I ask again. She rips her robe off exposing her bikini-clad body to me and points to the scar that slices right down the middle of her abdomen.

  “The daughter that was taken from me. The daughter I lost because of Him. The daughter I never knew existed because I was in a coma when I lost her.”

  What the fuck? She was pregnant when she was attacked?

  “Now you know all my dirty little secrets, Fallon.”

  “Elizabeth,” I solemnly say because there is nothing else that I can say at this moment.

  Tears leak down her cheeks and I about fall to my knees wanting to beg forgiveness for being the cause of her current pain. She clenches her hands into tight fists as if she is preparing to punch her way out of the room to get away from me.

  “You’re so wrong, Fallon. Love is real. It’s not selfish or possessive. I love my daughter more than anything in this world. Jayson and I created her from our love. If I could have given my life in exchange for hers, I would have done so without a second thought.”

  “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth.”

  Her face heats and her eyes blaze like an emerald inferno. “You can take your apology and shove it straight up your ass. I don’t want it.”

  “You want to fight, kitten? I’m more than ready to take your punches and verbal blows. If that’s what you need right now, then bring it on.”

  “I hate you,” she seethes.

  “No, you don’t.”

  She stomps over to me and pushes at my chest with all her might. I have to admit, it hurts. She may look delicate, but she is strong. She’s a fighter.

  “Get out of my way, Fallon.”

  “Make me,” I taunt her, and she growls in frustration.

  She gets up in my face, pure fury overtaking her common sense. Most men know not to challenge me, but this slip of a girl shows her true grit by standing up to me. I have
never wanted anyone else like I do her right in this moment. I want her anger and hate. I crave her passion and fire. And even though I told her that love was not real, I would sell my soul to Lucifer himself for her to share her love with me. Even knowing it would be taken away the moment she learned of my secret, it would be worth it.

  “I want to fuck you so bad right now,” I spit the words at her.

  Elizabeth doesn’t even blink. “Then do it.” She may not have blinked at my threat, but I do at her challenge. “Do it, Fallon. I dare you.”

  I stand there like an idiot, not able to make a sound or a move.

  “I didn’t think so,” she says and pushes past me. “You’re also a coward, Fallon, and a liar.”

  The beast within me snaps and snarls, wanting to be set free. Wanting her to see how lethal I can be. I wrench her arms up over her head and shove her face-first against the wall, causing her to yelp in surprise. I pin her with my body and reach around to slide my hand up to her neck, pulling her head back to me. Squeezing my fingers around her throat, I apply just enough pressure to make it difficult for her to take a deep breath.

  “You say I don’t know you, kitten, but you don’t know me.” My fingers grip her flesh tighter.

  “You won’t hurt me, Fallon,” she rasps out. I release my hold around her neck, and she slumps forward on the wall.

  “Yes, I will.”

  She turns around and cups my face in her hands. The contact makes me jerk. No one has ever touched me like this.

  “No, you won’t. Ask me to close my eyes and tell you who I see.”

  I narrow my frigid blue gaze at her, searching her face. For what? I have no idea. “No,” I grit out and push her back against the wall once again, causing a picture frame to fall off and smash to the floor. I can’t hear her say Ryder’s or Jayson’s name right now.

  “I see you, Fallon,” she continues.

  “Stop it, Elizabeth.”

  “Fallon—” she says, and I steal from her what I’ve been coveting since the day I first saw her at the Fields.

  “Goddamn you,” I say right before I kiss her.

  It’s not a pretty kiss or a nice kiss. It’s not a playful kiss. It’s a kiss filled with anger and hurt. I stop myself from touching her the way my hands are craving for me to, because I know if I do, I’ll fuck her against this wall and there will be nothing she can do to stop me. I may have allowed the beast to come out, but I strap a short leash on him.

  I plunder her sweet mouth, taking what I want and not giving a damn. I can regret it later. Each swipe of my tongue against hers tames the beast inside me until he rolls over and supplicates. She continues to cup my face, applying enough pressure to push me away from her. I don’t comply and instead press fully into her body, feeling every part of her fitting with me like we’re two puzzle pieces locking into place. I force her lips to part wider and kiss her deeper. I’m instantly addicted to the way her soft lips feel against mine, to her taste. Elizabeth is finally able to break the kiss. I can feel the pounding of her heartbeat as it matches the beat of mine.

  She looks up at me, lips swollen and red. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “You make me so goddamn crazy, Elizabeth.”

  “You still shouldn’t have done that.”

  “You wouldn’t shut up.”

  We both start laughing.

  “We’re so messed up,” she half-heartedly says, shaking her head.

  My arms go around her waist and I hold on to her for dear life. I take full responsibility for what just happened. I’d hate to think what would happen to me if Ryder ever finds out I kissed her.

  “Completely damaged and unrepairable,” I agree.

  “But perfect in a non-perfect way.”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” I reply. “I’m sorry about your daughter.”

  “Her name is Elizabeth Ann Jameson. The men who cared for me while I was in Seattle—Daniel and Drew—named her. She’s buried there.”

  Elizabeth pulls back and lifts the heart pendant up for me to see. I finger it and turn it over to see an inscription. “I noticed that you wore this every day but didn’t think anything of it.”

  “Jayson gave it to me. We’re supposed to go visit her grave next month during Christmas break.”

  “I can take you there now if you want to go,” I offer.

  “I appreciate that, but it’s something I need to do with Jayson.”

  A flash of light catches my eye outside.

  “Look, kitten.” I point at the glow coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She turns her face, following where I’m pointing and gasps.

  “Oh, my God!” she gushes, seeing the auroras for the first time. “Oh, Fallon. It looks like the sky is painted like a Claude Monet watercolor. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I want to tell her she’s wrong. She’s the most beautiful thing.

  “Go put on some dry clothes and we can sit out on the terrace and watch.”

  I need to change as well, but instead go out on the terrace and move the two seats next to one another to form a makeshift love seat. I recall something Elizabeth said today. She told me she had a feeling this journey with me was going to irrevocably change her life in more ways than just deciding which Elizabeth she was going to be. “Perhaps another Elizabeth will emerge along the way,” she said. Would that Elizabeth belong to me? I think about our kiss. I won’t kiss her again. I won’t allow my darkness to consume her light.

  When I hear her step out onto the terrace, I motion for her to come over and sit down. “I’ll be right back,” I tell her and go inside to put on some warm clothes and make us a drink. Whiskey would be good right about now.

  Even though it’s in the lower thirties, we stay outside for hours, unwilling to take our eyes off the night sky’s iridescent light show. She snuggles up to me and rests her head against my shoulder as we sip our whiskey in silence. When she finally drifts off to sleep, I pick her up and take her to her bed. I have my own room and my own bed, but I slip under the covers with her, needing to feel her warmth for just a little bit longer. I play with the ends of her long hair and bring a lock of it up to my nose and sniff. She smells like goodness. After an hour, I slip out from under the covers and tuck her in, an unfamiliar and unwelcome emotion flowing through me that I don’t recognize.

  “Sweet dreams, kitten,” I say and walk into my room. I never get around to texting Ryder.

  Chapter 8

  Day 14: Finding Elizabeth

  Paris

  We spent four days in London where we walked around the historic city looking at everything. I wanted to go there because it was where our families were planning to take us for summer vacation after we graduated high school. As Fallon and I strolled along looking at the Thames, I imagined all of them were there with me: Mom, Dad, and Hailey, Ryder, Brea, Jamie, Faith, and Randy, Jayson, Julien, Freda, and Mitch. I could perfectly picture Hailey and Brea walking arm in arm, their heads together while they whispered and giggled. I could feel my hand in Jayson’s as we casually walked along enjoying the sights of London like any other couple in love. I could hear Ryder and Julien cracking jokes and their deep booming laughter. I could see Dad with his arm around Mom and hear him hum one of his songs to her as they walked side by side. Being in London with Fallon was both bittersweet and heartbreaking. It was a promise fulfilled. It was also where Fallon gave me real memories to cherish alongside my imaginary ones.

  Wonderful memories like him taking me to watch a Shakespeare play at the Globe or us strolling across the Jubilee Bridge. We rode in a double-decker bus and on the London Underground, where I giggled every time I heard “mind the gap” before the doors closed. Fallon held my hand when we were high above the city riding in the London Eye. He took me to St. Paul’s Cathedral, Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Hyde Park, and Trafalgar Square.

  We stopped at pubs, drank some pints, and ate fish and chips—without the vinegar because that’s just abso
lutely disgusting. I learned how to play snooker. An Irish band was playing at a beer garden we found, and I joined them on stage. Fallon had never seen me play a guitar before. We danced and drank. A lot.

  Fallon took me to Goodwood where, somehow, he arranged for me to drive a McLaren Senna, a Porsche 911 Turbo S, and a Ferrari SF90 Stradale. We went for a picnic lunch at the Fishbourne Roman ruins and drove to Bath, stopping by Avebury along the way. We also helped out at a volunteer center passing out prepared meals to those in need. Our days were packed from morning until late at night. I’m surprised I’m still standing after the whirlwind trip through the southern parts of England.

  When our time in England was up, we rode the Chunnel to Paris, France. Fallon took me to the Eiffel Tower where we ate lunch. We visited a perfumery and a chocolatier where I got to sample the most delicious dark chocolate; it had no dairy in it. We visited the Louvre and the Palace of Versailles. We volunteered to help pick up trash along the banks of the Seine. Tonight, Fallon is taking me for a helicopter ride over the city.

  Each day, little by little, without me noticing, I’m changing. I’m becoming the woman I need to be. When I close my eyes now, I see me. I see the real Elizabeth Penelope Fairchild. Not the old version of me, and not the newer version either. I’m something different and unique.

  I’m hesitant to tell Fallon this because I don’t want our adventure to end just yet. I want to enjoy life by his side a little bit longer before I have to give it up, give him up, and return home to fix the damage I know is waiting for me there. The damage I created. Fallon hasn’t tried to kiss me again since that day in the hotel in Nordurljosavegur. He’s actually been quite mellow, which is not a normal state of being for him. It’s different, but nice in its own way. However, I’ll always prefer cocky asshole Fallon; the version of him that lights me up and challenges me.