Chase The Butterflies
Page 16
Where the hell am I?
“Morning.”
I shoot up in bed, pressing the sheet to my thumping chest. Jude stands in the doorway, sheepishly holding a cup of coffee. He’s dressed in the same T-shirt I remember seeing him in, but now he’s wearing black sweats instead of jeans. The sun filtering in from the open window reveals it’s morning. The last thing I remember was…shit.
“How’d you sleep?”
“F-fine,” I stutter, sitting up higher. Memories of what we did, what he did to my body assault my brain, and I almost gag on air.
His bare feet sound against the floorboards as he pads across the room. “I’m glad you’re awake. You were dead to the world when I got up. I had to check your pulse a couple of times to make sure you were still alive,” he jokes. The coffee smells delicious as he passes me the steaming cup.
I smile, but it’s small, afraid. Now that I’m no longer shrouded in darkness, I wonder what happens next.
Cradling the cup, I lean back against the headboard, waiting for Jude to speak. He’s standing awkwardly by the edge of the bed with his lips dipped into half a frown. “Once you’re done, I can take you home.”
It’s my turn to frown. Is he blowing me off? “Oh. Right. You probably have a million things to do.” I throw back my coffee, a pained scowl touching my cheeks as the scalding liquid burns my throat.
“No, I didn’t mean it that way,” he amends, stepping forward.
“Oh?” I say with a lisp as my tongue has third degree burns.
“I meant, you probably want to think about last night or something?” He rubs the back of his neck, expressing his discomfort.
His uncertainty makes me smirk. “No, actually, I was going to suggest I take you and Angus out for breakfast. I still owe you.” I refer to our pact of me making him dinner. Well, in this case, breakfast for all the groceries he bought.
His smile fills the room. “Okay. Sounds good. Angus is still asleep.” He pauses. “Would it be okay if I dropped you home, got Angus ready, and then came to pick you up? I don’t want to…”
“Of course,” I interject, understanding he doesn’t want to confuse him with my impromptu sleepover. “Can I use the bathroom first?”
“Of course. It’s just down the hall, last door on the left. There’s a T-shirt in the bedside dresser.”
His comment reminds me that I’m very naked.
“Thanks.” I open the drawer and reach for a faded Metallica T-shirt. I slip it over my head quickly and stand, gulping when Jude doesn’t move. He’s so much taller than me. My mouth waters, and it’s sensory overload when his lips curve into a sexy promise. I can’t believe I’m reacting to him this way. It appears with honesty comes an even stronger attraction.
He moves aside, a dimple kissing his whiskered cheek. I stand frozen, my breath choppy as he reaches down with an unhurried speed to slip the cup from my fingers. He draws it to his lips and takes a sip. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, eyes pinned to mine as he watches me over the rim.
I run for the door, charging out it and sprinting down the hallway. I’m not looking where I’m going as obsession clouds my vision, and I almost bump straight into someone I was not expecting to see.
Grace.
Her long hair is a dirty blonde when it’s wet. Droplets run down her long neck, highlighting she’s just stepped out of the shower. A Yankees T-shirt stops mid-thigh, and I’m guessing that’s all she’s wearing.
Just like when we first met, she ignores me. Thankfully, Angus comes out from his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When he sees me, he smiles.
“Good morning, little monkey,” Grace says sweetly.
Angus signs good morning.
“What do you want for breakfast?”
Just as I’m about to interject and inform her of our plans, Jude’s voice booms from behind me. “Tell your aunt we’re going out for breakfast.”
The word doesn’t register for a nanosecond, but when it does, I almost topple on my ass as I spin around. “She’s your sister?”
Running a hand through his tousled hair, he replies, “Unfortunately, yes.”
Holy shit. Don’t I feel ridiculous?
No wonder Jude played off her relationship to him. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I implied she was a…floozy,” I whisper, not wanting her to overhear me, as I’m quite certain she hates me already.
“Don’t sweat it.” Jude shrugs it off. He steps closer while my heart skips a beat. “It was nice seeing you all green-eyed.” I don’t even bother defending myself because I’m too preoccupied trying to breathe.
Angus signs that we’re all going out for breakfast. When he adds Daddy is bringing a friend, she scoffs, rolling her sapphire eyes. “Typical. He was always bringing home strays.”
All bets are now off. “Excuse me?” I reply, ready to claw out her eyes. I don’t appreciate that she’s ignoring me, but I suppose us talking could be explosive.
Angus looks at my unruly appearance, and I forget my need to give her a piece of my mind.
“Okay, I’m going to get dressed. You need a hand getting ready, you shout out.” He nods with a smile. There is no doubt he loves her, which makes me think she can’t be all bad.
When I think I can speak without cursing, I state, “So, sister?”
“Yeah. She takes care of Angus. It’s always been the two of us. Dad split when we were young, and my mom remarried. She has a new family now. Grace is all the family I know.” His words aren’t laced with spite, just fact.
“Is she mad at you?” I ask as she didn’t acknowledge either of us.
He sighs. “She’s always mad at me. Actually, I think she’s mad at the world.”
Although I’m not angry, I want him to know I don’t want any more secrets between us. “You should have told me. You should have told me a lot of things,” I add, realizing there’s so much more I still need to know.
He nods, chewing his bottom lip. “I should have, but I never thought we’d get to―”
“To what?” I ask when he pauses.
Stepping forward, he intertwines our fingers. “This.” He stares at me with a look I haven’t seen in quite some time. Well, last night, in fact.
Heat licks at my neck, and I smile because this feels pretty incredible.
By the time Jude drops me off, I’m surprisingly exhausted. It could be because I had a side order of awkward with breakfast as Grace continued to ignore me. I don’t know what her problem is. I understand she may be protective when it comes to her brother, especially after Rose, but she’s sentenced me before I’ve even gone to trial.
“Jäg!” I call out, looking over the railing and searching my yard. Poor little man is probably starved.
I see a figure from the corner of my eye. It’s Mrs. Anderson. In one hand, she holds a small pair of garden shears and in the other, a rake. I haven’t had time to tend to my yard, so I appreciate the fact she’s tending to my roses late in the afternoon. Although this is extremely odd, I’m grateful, nonetheless. “Thank you, Mrs. Anderson,” I call out, but she doesn’t hear me with her earbuds in.
“Lost Jäg?”
I yelp, placing a hand over my racing heart. “Holy shit, Charley, you damn near gave me a heart attack.”
Leaning against the banister, she smirks. “Sorry, your door was unlocked.”
She looks stunning in the same flowing red gown she wore at the housewarming. It’s a little dressy for a Sunday afternoon, but it’s Charley, so nothing surprises me.
“Why are you all dressed up?”
Her mood turns poignant as she shrugs, picking at invisible fluff. “No reason. How was your night?”
When my cheeks rival the color of her dress, Charley latches onto my forearm. “What happened?”
“Well, where do I start?” I can’t keep the excitement from my voice.
“From the very beginning. I want details.”
I can’t help but smile. I decide to leave out the part involving my midnight swim because I know
Charley will worry and I think I’m okay. “Jude and I kissed.”
“A-ha,” she says dreamily, cupping her chin in her palms.
“He took me into his room. We kissed some more.” She nods quickly. “Then he went down…on me.”
Charley’s eyes pop from her head. “Oh my god. And it felt okay?”
My cheeks burst into flames. “It felt more than okay.”
“Wow.” Her mouth is hanging open. “This is unbelievable.”
“I know.”
“Did you…?” She doesn’t need to elaborate as I know her train of thought.
“No. I wanted to, but well, he said let’s not push our luck.”
“Good thinking.”
I pull back, a touch offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She quickly backtracks. “I meant, take things slow. What’s the rush?”
Examining her closely, I see that she’s lying. “That’s not what you meant. What’s wrong? Between your and Jude’s odd behavior, you’d think me sleeping with him was the be-all and end-all.”
She lowers her eyes.
A relentless knocking scratches at my temple.
“Are you all right?” Charley’s voice is suddenly echoing as if she’s standing miles away.
My head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as I blink twice. On the second flutter, I see blood. “Charley! Oh my god! Your nose, it’s bleeding.” Her hand shoots up to her face, bright red blood smearing her fingers. The flow is heavy, and it doesn’t look like it’ll stop. “Come inside.”
I grab her arm, but she jars backward, shaking her head. “I’m okay, Tori. It’ll stop. It always does.”
“Stop? You’re gushing blood. It looks like you’re seconds away from bleeding out on my deck.”
“I said I’m fine.” Her voice turns desolate. “I’m used to it.”
Used to it? This is the first time I’ve seen her bleed out half her body weight, so I don’t know what to make of her comment.
“I better go.” Her hands are cupped over her nose. Bright red blood slips through her fingers, each droplet hitting the deck with a sharp splat.
“Go? Charley, don’t be silly. You’re bleeding. You can’t go. Let me take care of you.”
“You were always such a good friend. Thank you. Even though we drifted apart after high school, I always thought about you.” Tears prick her eyes before she runs down the stairs.
Is the world on crazy pills? What’s going on?
I chase after her, but she’s exceptionally fast and gone before I can catch up. I bend at the waist, suddenly breathless, which shouldn’t be happening seeing as I’ve built up my cardio with the daily swims. My chest aches right over my wound. I rub at it, standing upright slowly, afraid I’m going to faint.
From the corner of my eye, I see a flash of gray. Jäg. The air returns to my lungs, and I take off, pushing through the pain. He darts off to the left, headed for a wooded area lined with tall, bottle green trees. I continue chasing him, calling out, but my voice seems to ricochet through the stillness.
As I sprint into the forest, he’s nowhere to be found. I halt, looking from left to right. “Jäg?” My screams are drowned out by the foliage.
Where did he go? I saw him only seconds ago.
A menacing flash unexpectedly overtakes me, and I feel the need to flee. A branch snaps underneath my sneakers as I take a step forward. I yelp, and the sound bounces around me. Suddenly, the forest closes in on me, and the hair on my arms stands on end. Spinning around, my nightmares have come to life when I see my attacker standing feet away. He’s the person who’s been looking over my shoulder for months.
My throat goes dry. “W-what do you want from me?” I back away slowly in fear.
Light suddenly turns to dark, and the earth beneath me turns to mud. Peering up at the starless sky, I see two crows with feathered wings the color of a blackened night soar through the shadows, frantic to fly away. However, I watch in horror as they abruptly change direction and dive toward the ground. Their eyes are the color of blood, there is no heart behind them.
My screams are hollow as I attempt to run, but I’m ankle deep in sludge. My muscles burn as I push through the mud, desperate to flee from the feathered projectiles that seem intent on causing me harm. The woods turn evil when overgrown vines wrap around my ankles and wrists. A malevolent snicker fills the night, transporting fear into dread. Not again. No, not again.
Unable to move, I do the only thing I can. I drop to a squat and curl myself into a ball. Shielding my head with my arms, I tuck my chin to my chest, squeezing my eyes shut. “This is only a dream,” I repeat over and over while the cawing shoots terror straight to my core. I must have fallen asleep after Jude dropped me off at home. That’s the only explanation.
Mud sloshes as his footsteps get closer and closer. This nightmare feels a lot more lifelike than any others before it. I can smell his rancidity. Taste my fear. The cawing gets louder, in sync with his footsteps. I’m rooted to the spot. My chest aches, and I’m so frightened.
“That’s it, princess. This will hurt a lot less if you don’t fight me.”
“No!” I screech. “Leave me alone!” I cover my ears, desperate to mute my pain. I can’t stomach these words a second time around.
I’m convinced this is it. I’ve officially lost my mind. I’ve skated so close to the edge, and now I’ve finally fallen off—I’ve succumbed to PTSD.
His rancid breath fans down my neck, alerting me that he’s close. “Scream all you want. I like it when they scream.”
This is it―the point of no return. I accept my fate, and I know I’m going to lose. Unlike a lifetime ago, there is no one to protect me. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. And I’m going to die.
“Watch out!”
Those words are my salvation. Suddenly, the cawing stops, the air turns clean, and the mud turns to dust. Safety overrides the fear, and I know he’s here.
Unshielding my face, I blink twice, unbelieving that I’m free. Lightness has overthrown the dark because of him. He stands before me, his face cloaked, his eyes downturned. With a whisper, he offers me his hand. It’s the key to drag me from this delicate hell.
I know once I take hold, all my questions will be answered. But now that I’ve been offered this lifeline, do I want to take it?
I know there was never a choice.
With trembling fingers, I slip my hand into his. The feel of him is warming, non-threatening. The sun takes cover behind the slow-moving clouds, shrouding us in partial darkness. It appears he is also too frightened to behold the next step.
His height is towering, his shoulders broad, but although he’s twice my size, I know he won’t harm me. He’s protected me from the very first moment I met him.
The space between us is blistering; the intensity of this moment steals my breath away. I look up at my protector. I’m ready for this to end. The wind howls around us, fallen leaves scuttle along the ground. Our surroundings are beautifully haunted, just like me.
Swallowing down my fears, I reach up and clasp his hood’s edge. I still can’t see his eyes. With a movement no faster than a swallowtail butterfly’s wings, I slip back the veil protecting my rescuer’s identity. He doesn’t fight me. He submits to me completely.
Inch by inch, the curtain falls away, uncloaking my secrets. But just as the final piece is about to slip away, I stop, unsure if I want to know. What happens when I find out? What will change? The choice is taken away from me because long fingers overlap mine, staging the final act.
I gasp, tears stinging my eyes, as piece by piece, I can finally decipher what has plagued me for months. His dark brown hair slashes forward, and his chin is still downturned, but I would recognize this face from the other side of the world. He’s finally unmasked, and all has been revealed. But nothing prepares me for the reality.
When he lifts his chin painstakingly slow, there is nothing but regret, sorrow, but most of all, pain in his stormy eyes. My ha
nd unsteadily covers my mouth, unbelieving. A tear hacks at my flesh because the truth hasn’t set me free. It’s made everything so much worse.
I’m trapped, a prisoner to denial because I cannot believe that standing before me is my protector, my rescuer. I’ve finally seen his face. But unlike all the other times I’ve looked upon it and touched it, I just want to turn away this time.
The answers were there all along, I just didn’t know where to look. Jude Montgomery is my champion, my knight in shining armor, but now, the question is…why.
The pupa stage of the butterfly’s life cycle is a time for complete change.
The Third Stage: Pupa
I awake in my room, rousing from my vivid nightmare. My chest aches. I spring from my bed, the devil on my heels; there is only one place I need to go. Jude isn’t home, so I speed downtown. I need answers, and the only person who can give them to me is Jude.
I pull my car up by the curb, the quietness of the afternoon exactly what I need as I can’t deal with clatter today. Pop’s Hardware Store is small but stocked well. There is a single register up front which could have been updated about ten years ago. Looking around, I realize the same could be said for the entire store. A faded photograph hangs against the far wall, depicting a young man standing proudly in front of the same red sign which sits out front. I’m assuming this is Pop on the day he opened his store.
“Can I help you, Miss?” asks an elderly gentleman. This is, without a doubt, Pop.
“Hi. I’m Victoria Armstrong. I live on Maple. Jude Montgomery is my neighbor.” I reveal the reason I’m here. I’m surprised I can construct a sentence right now. I figured Jude might have ducked into work because I can’t find him anywhere else.
Pop smiles a toothless grin. “Oh, yes. Lovely neighborhood, that one.”
Too edgy to make small talk, I ask, “I was wondering if Jude was working today.”
The moment Pop frowns, I get a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Sorry, Miss, but Jude doesn’t work here anymore.”
“Oh?” I feel like I’ve swallowed lead. Has he lost his job?