The Butterfly Collector

by Beth Yarnall

  “You’re always having all kinds of ideas,” I said, laying a hand over my belly. “Which is why I make you eat Thai food almost every night now.”

  His smiled dimmed a bit. “We haven’t talked a lot about the future. About the baby, I mean. Do you… that is, um, will you move in with me?”

  I immediately shook my head and his lips evened out, his expression closing. I had a brief moment of panic. Keep him interested. Stay with him. Find out everything he knows, what he’s working on. And don’t fuck it up.

  Right. Okay.

  I kept my gaze on his, knowing what I had to do. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said no right away.” His eyes remained steady on mine, but I could see that I’d hurt him. “I’ve never lived with anyone before. I’m not sure I’d be good at it, but if you’re willing to take me on then… okay.” The lies came so easily to me, he bought them right away, his happiness returning tenfold.

  “When? My place or yours?” He grew more animated, his excitement growing. “I was thinking my place because it’s bigger. But if you want to stay in your apartment, we could make it work. I was just thinking, with the baby coming, we could turn my guest room into a nursery…”

  He jabbered on, but I couldn’t match his enthusiasm. He wasn’t going to get all of the things he wanted with me. The orders I’d received today would put an end to everything. Soon. Too soon.

  I put up a good front for him, nodding and agreeing to every suggestion he made. All the while I knew I was drawing him in, closer and closer. An uneasy feeling settled over me.

  I was going to hurt him. And knowing that hurt me.

  Looking at him across the table, planning for our future, for our baby, I longed for everything he offered me. I watched him and ached with the knowledge that I’d done the one thing I never should have done.

  I’d fallen in love with Truett Nash.

  3

  A week later, I moved in with Tru.

  Carlos hadn’t visited again. I’d done what I could to stop him, but I knew it would only be temporary. Carlos was not one to let go. It had taken him the better part of a year to find me this time. I’d covered my tracks well, using my own contact to acquire a new identity, new paperwork. But he dogged me, lurking in the shadows as I walked down the street. The feeling of being watched never left me, not even while I slept.

  Gasping for breath, I sat up abruptly in bed.

  Tru was by my side in a flash, comforting me. “Gia, baby. It’s all right. I’m here. You’re fine.”

  I put a hand on his chest, pushing him back to protect him, searching for Carlos in the shadows of our bedroom.

  “Gia.”

  I turned to him in the darkness, needing the comfort he offered. My body slick with the sweat of fear, I came up hard against him, knocking him back in the bed.

  He accepted me willingly, gladly. I liked that about him. I liked that he could make me forget. Under his hands, his mouth, his thrusting body, I forgot Glory and the things she’d done. I forgot Gina and the things she’d never have. And I became Gia, who had everything and nothing. Nothing but Truett Nash and this night.

  He found my mouth through the dark night, through my deceit. I gripped him hard and he tumbled me over, taking me someplace where I was everything he wanted and needed. I was his Gia, free and willing. I could give him this if nothing else. This was real and raw. This was everything and nothing. This was all I had.

  He took his time touching me as if we had an infinite supply. I used my hands, my mouth to memorize him. The hard planes of his chest and back, the tight, sinewy strength of his arms, the fleshy feel of his backside as he nudged at my opening and the coarseness of the hair on his legs, pushing mine farther apart. I tried to burn it all into my memory.

  He whispered to me in the dark, of my beauty, and of how much he wanted me. I’d never before felt so cherished. And when I spread my legs wide for him, offering him the only thing I had to give, he gave me more. More than I could ever give him. Each thrust, each kiss and tender murmur tore at me until I was screaming in pain or pleasure, I wasn’t sure. All I was sure of was Truett Nash. Inside and out, he surrounded me. In that moment where we came together, I wanted to confess it all, tell him what I’d done, who I was, and what I’d been ordered to do. But I knew in doing so I’d lose him forever.

  He slumped against me, breathing hard and heavy. And I couldn’t stand it. Suddenly everything was too close, too overwhelming. I pushed at him, panicked in a way I hadn’t felt before. I kicked and shoved until he rolled off me in stunned silence.

  I ran for the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Collapsing down to the floor, I broke into hot tears full of shame and longing.

  “Gia? Gia, open the door.” He tried the knob then banged on the door. “Are you all right? I’m sorry. I thought… Gia. Open the door.” I could almost feel the panic in his voice. “Gia, did I hurt you? Please, baby, open the door. Let me see.” He hit the door hard, knocking my head against it on the other side. “Gia.” He strung out my name like a plea.

  I grabbed a towel and pressed my face into it, smothering my sobs. What was I doing? To him, to myself? I hadn’t gained the information I was supposed to have. I needed more time, I’d told them. He’s just beginning to trust me, I insisted. They’d looked at me and my gently rounded belly and they’d given me three weeks.

  If you don’t have what we need by then, you’re out.

  Then the one who’d raised me and trained me, looked at me like I had wasted all his effort. “What will you do about your condition? You’re of no use to us the way you are.”

  “I…” Glancing down at the soft swell of my belly, I had a moment of clarity. “You could leave me in longer. Like you said, I’m of no use to you on another case. I need more time. My condition can give me that. We’re moving in together. I’ll have more access to him, to his work.” I stood calmly and waited while they debated my future, but inside I was a jumbled mess.

  “Gia, please.” Tru’s voice broke through to me.

  I eased away from the door and unlocked it. Tru was through it in a flash, rushing to comfort me. “Are you hurt? Did I hurt you or the baby?”

  I swiped at my tears. “I’m fine. Hormones I guess. I’m not hurt.”

  His hands swept over me, my face and hair, shoulders and back. “Jesus.” He leaned back against the doorframe and flipped on the light.

  I blinked hard against the glare, holding my hands in front of my eyes.

  He trailed a finger along the slope of my neck. “I bit you.” He sounded as surprised as I felt.

  I tried to see the mark, but couldn’t. He helped me to rise and face the mirror. We were a battered pair. I’d scratched his chest, four perfect lines. His razor burn marred my breasts and neck along with the bite. I studied him, standing just over my left shoulder, his face flushed with concern and the lingering intensity of our passion. And I almost did it. I almost told him everything.

  He brushed the hair back from my face with his hands, smoothing it down my back. Then he reached around, holding me against him, his palm flat against the swell of my stomach.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” He pressed a kiss to the side of my neck, just below my ear.

  “I’m fine. I promise.” I placed my hand over his on my belly. “Hormones, I’m sure.” I silently berated myself for my stupidity. Confessing everything would only endanger us both.

  “Come back to bed.” He led me back to his bed, tucking me tight against him. “Gianfranco.”

  “What?”

  “For the baby, if it’s a boy we could name him after your father.”

  “No.” My “father” was a man who didn’t exist.

  Tru shifted so we were side by side. “Tell me what you want.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He smoothed the hair away from my face. “What do you want… with me? Because Gia, I want to marry you and I need to know if that’s what you want to.”

  My chest tightened, denial f
ixed in the back of my throat. I swallowed hard, forcing it down. “You’re asking me to marry you?” I wanted this. I wanted him.

  He reached for my hand, bringing it to his chest. “I am.”

  I looked down to where our hands were clasped over his heart. Emotions crowded my chest, elbowing each other for equal space—hope, dread, desire, foreboding, love, fear, and a yearning so strong it made my breath hitch.

  “I can do the bended-knee thing.” He squeezed my hand and rolled away. I heard the bedside drawer open, then he was back, pressing a small box into my hand. Kneeling on the bed beside me, he held my hand in both of his. “Gia, will you marry me?”

  I couldn’t find my voice.

  I should tell him no. That would’ve been the kind thing to do. But I’d never been taught kindness. Only how to survive and how to do the job. In the meager light from the streetlight coming through the crack in the curtains I could just make out the hope in his expression. Not just hope…

  “I love you,” he said, bringing my hands to his lips for a kiss. “Please be my wife. Make us a family.”

  I knew we were being monitored. I’d set up the surveillance devices myself. They were listening, recording my progress. And my lack of progress. Knowing that, and how any promise I made today would be void tomorrow, I did something stupid and reckless.

  “Yes,” I whispered, foolishly trying to keep my response for his ears only.

  He slid a ring on my finger and kissed my hand again. Then his lips found mine and we tumbled back down on the bed.

  “Do you love me?” There was desperation in his voice.

  My answer wouldn’t change anything. He’d marry me whether I loved him or not. For responsibility. For the baby. For the love he had for me. Truett Nash was not one to shirk his obligations. His drive, his one-mindedness and relentlessness were what had catapulted him to the top of his field. They were also the reasons I was in his bed.

  When it was over, he’d look back and try to pinpoint the moments when he should’ve seen who and what I was. I wouldn’t let this be one of those moments.

  “Yes. Very much.”

  “Oh, baby. You don’t know…”

  “I do know.”

  When I would look back at our time together, I’d always remember this moment as the truest, most honest exchange we’d ever have. For now I was Gia, and Tru was my fiancé. As we made plans for the future, I threw myself into them as though they’d really come true. We made love a second time, slow and easy like two people who had the forever they dreamed about. I fell head first into the illusion and for the first time in my life, I hoped.

  4

  On the walls in Truett’s home office were large framed displays of butterflies. His favorite was the one that hung behind his desk. It was a collection of North African butterflies. He’d been stationed there somewhere. That’s all he’d ever told me and only because I’d asked about the butterflies. Of course, I already knew about his time there and what he’d done, what he continued to do. It was the reason I was here.

  I stood behind him while he sat at the desk and spoke on the phone with his mother, making wedding plans. I couldn’t bring myself to be a part of their conversation so I focused on the butterflies. Fine pins held them in place, where they’d stay mounted forever, never to flutter their wings or breathe free air. I was like the butterflies, pinned down and forced to be where I was. The colors in their wings fascinated me. Something so vibrant and ethereal shouldn’t be held under glass for so few to enjoy.

  The baby moved within me. Instinctively I placed a protective hand over my swollen abdomen. Behind me, Tru laughed at something his mother must have said. The sound made me turn away from the butterflies to watch the way his face changed when he smiled. He rarely laughed. Neither did I. We were such serious people, doing serious things. The fine lines around his eyes deepened. He looked up at me and placed his hand over mine on his shoulder. His smile was contagious and I found myself unable to keep the corners of my mouth from tipping up.

  I could hear his mother’s, then his father’s voice across the line. We stayed that way, staring at each other, goofy grins creasing our faces until he disconnected the call.

  “They want us to have the wedding in their backyard. Dad says he’ll build a gazebo.” He slid back from the desk and pulled me down into his lap. “They can’t wait to meet you.”

  “Why?”

  His smile faded away and his brows drew together. “Because you’re about to be my wife and the mother of my child, their first grandchild.”

  When he examined my face, as he was now, a knot of fear twisted in my belly. Had he caught me in a lie? Did I somehow slip up? Was he on to me?

  “Don’t look so terrified, Gia. They’ll love you.” He smoothed a hand over my stomach. “And our baby.”

  “I know. I guess… I guess I’m just nervous about meeting them.” Two more people to trick and lie to.

  “Don’t be. They’ll love you as much as I do.” He looked down to where his hand rested over our child. “Or is there something else you’re worried about?”

  “No.” I moved out of his embrace and toward the door. “I just want them to like me.”

  “They will.”

  With one last glance at the butterflies forever frozen in death, I made up an excuse about needing something from the store and promised to be back soon. I hadn’t thought about this part of things when I’d agreed to marry him. I hadn’t thought about any of it. This wasn’t like me. It was my duty to consider every aspect of the job, leave nothing to chance.

  Chastising myself for my stupidity—or was it wishful thinking?—I almost missed him. He disappeared around the corner, leaving nothing but a fleeting glimpse. Ordinary people wouldn’t have noticed him, but he lived in my nightmares, making me hyper aware of his presence. For a split second, I froze like those butterflies under glass. He’d always been the pin that had held me in place no matter how hard I struggled.

  No more.

  I crossed the street, dodging cars, causing them to honk their horns and gesture rudely. New Yorkers weren’t the type to go with the flow. But I didn’t care. He wasn’t going to get away this time. I was pulling out the pin that held me in place.

  Breaking into a run, I rounded the corner in time to see him enter the back entrance of the building across from Tru’s apartment.

  Carlos had found me.

  Again.

  I skidded to a stop outside the door he’d disappeared through. The baby did a tumble in my belly, reminding me of what was at stake. Adrenaline coursed through me. I’d learned long ago how to override its effects and ignore the fight-or-flight instinct.

  Making quick work of the lock, I went down the hall, keeping my senses sharp. One floor up a door closed. I scanned the narrow corridor for cameras or other security measures. I wasn’t surprised to not find any. He wouldn’t expect me to go after him. That wasn’t the game. It was always him chasing after me, controlling me. Every time I escaped, he always came for me.

  His reliance on my fear of him was going to work against him. I’d been a fool for him once, letting him control every aspect of my life. When I’d become pregnant by him, he’d made me abort it. He didn’t want any brats interfering with his work or my time with him. He especially didn’t want any marks on my body or to be denied access to it whenever he wanted. He was selfish like that. My current pregnancy was a defiance I hadn’t known I was capable of. I wanted this baby.

  And he wasn’t going to take it from me.

  We worked for the same people. He knew what the job required. When we’d been together, he slept with women outside the job just because he could. Me using my body to complete a mission like I was doing with Tru was something he’d learned to accept, but as soon as the job was over, I was under his thumb again. Getting pregnant by Tru broke that cycle. Even though my pregnancy was the ultimate betrayal, Carlos still thought of me as his.

  Not anymore.

  I reached the top of the la
nding and paused. There were four apartments on this floor. He was behind one of those doors. I walked past the first door without stopping to listen. My intuition pulled me toward the third door. The windows would look out onto the street and give a clear view of the front of Tru’s apartment. It wasn’t this logical deduction that drew me to the yellow door with the chipped paint. I could feel him behind it. The air around the door seemed to pulse with the energy of the man who’d been my lover, my mentor, my tormentor.

  There was a flurry of movement in my belly, as if the baby was trying to warn me. I crept closer anyway, undeterred and more determined than ever. This was going to end here and now.

  5

  Carlos didn’t seem surprised to see me. He turned slowly toward the door, the backlight from the window casting his face in shadows. The twenty or so feet between us were filled with a lifetime of wrongs and rights, love and hate, resentment and necessity. When I looked at him, I saw myself at eighteen, young and fragile and so full of myself, I thought nothing bad could ever happen to me. A whole lot of not good had happened to me, and the majority of it was because of Carlos. I chose him. I chose to go with him. I chose to link my path to his. And every one of those choices had led me to Truett Nash and to this moment.

  “If you think I’ll take you back like that…” He gestured toward my pregnancy.

  “No. I know you won’t. I don’t want you to.”

  “Is that why you did it?”

  “Believe it or not, it was an accident.”

  “You’re not supposed to have ‘accidents’. I know the one you had with me wasn’t.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” I stepped into the room and let the door close behind me. I expected fear, but I was strangely hollow inside.

  “You wanted to tie me down.”

  “I wanted a life, a family. I still do.”

  “Is that why you didn’t get rid of this one?”