Page 10 of Butterfly

Darkness catches me by the neck. A suffocating sensation coils around me as I fall on all fours on the hard wooden floor. Blood is trickling down my arms, flowing in rivulets that make my hands sticky and the floorboards slippery. There’s so much blood. All mine. All from the slashes on my back. My skin burns. My body shivers. Pain is the only thing I feel.

His footsteps hound me. The blade glints in the light from the fireplace, thirsty for my pain.

“You little whore.” His voice drips with hatred for me, but it’s not as scary as the sounds of his footsteps getting closer. The closer he gets, the closer the pain is.

Before the blade can cut me again, I spring to my feet. I don’t know where the strength comes from, but it flows through my veins. It’s a heated wave of energy and desperation that tastes like copper and acid. But all it takes is a shove. I push him away from me. “Don’t touch me!”

The floor is slippery. The hearth is hard. The sickening thud of his head hitting the stone cuts through my sobs. Then more blood floods the floor.

But it’s not mine.

Three

Alex

A MUFFLED CRY of sheer agony pulls me out of my sleep. I fling my eyes open. It’s Sienna. She’s thrashing on the seat. Her chest is lifting and falling, and her mouth is pulled tight in a grimace. Choking noises come out of her tense lips. The muscles in her neck are taut ropes that stand out in sharp relief under her skin.

I touch her arm. “Sienna?”

Her head shakes in a silent ‘no.’

“Sienna.” I sit bolt upright and take her shoulder. The blanket slips down her body and bunches at her waist. “Wake up. It’s a nightmare.”

With a gasp, she flares her eyes wide, her glassy gaze lost in a vision of agony. Perspiration glistens on her upper lip.

“Sienna,” I whisper, stroking her shoulder. “It’s all right.”

She grabs my arm, her slender fingers digging into my muscles. “There was so much blood.” The words slur out of her mouth in broken pants. “So much blood.”

Hell. It must be a nightmare about the storm. “You’re safe now. It’s over.”

Judging by how her bottom lip quivers, she doesn’t believe me. “I didn’t mean it,” she whispers so softly I have to lean closer to understand her words. “He slipped.”

She must be talking about that poor kid.

“It’s all right.” Her gaze is so lost, I can’t stand the distance between us. She’s quivering and clinging to me, her breasts rising and falling. I gather her in my arms, and she buries her face in my chest.

I lift the armrests between us and shift closer to her seat. She cleaves to me like a vine, grabbing my shoulders and shivering so hard, I’m worried she might bite her tongue. I caress her silky hair, inhaling the scent of green apples.

“You’re safe,” I murmur, knowing how inadequate my reassurance must sound. I hold her close and keep caressing her head. Her body slowly relaxes, and the shivers die down. Her breathing turns normal and rhythmic.

With a light shove, she pulls away from me, her face flaming. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.” She scurries away from my arms. Cold air hits me from the fan the moment she scoots away.

I have to close my fists so as not to drag her back into my embrace. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You had a nightmare.”

With a quick gesture, she tucks a long tendril of hair behind her ear. “I sobbed all over your T-shirt. That was embarrassing.”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about seeking comfort.”

Her eyebrow quirks up. “I bet I looked like a rabid animal.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.” She pulls the blanket up.

If she thinks I’ve never had embarrassing moments, she’s sorely mistaken. “What if we exchange an embarrassing moment for another?” I ask with a sudden inspiration.

That gets her attention. She peers up at me. “What do you mean?”

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