Page 58 of Butterfly

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Hard lines appear at the sides of his mouth.

“I trust you.” The words slog out of me.

“Then why—” He huffs and shakes his head. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

During the drive, we don’t talk. I’m too busy pulling myself together, and he’s too shocked, I think, to talk. Or caught between frustration and wanting to help. Did I ruin everything between us? When he pulls over in front of my house, he doesn’t turn off the engine.

I clench my coat around my shoulders. “I’m sorry the evening didn’t turn out as you wanted.”

“Sod what I wanted.” His tone sounds hard. “I’m sorry I scared you to death.” He goes to touch my cheek but stops.

“You didn’t.” I’m aware my words are inadequate.

His lips form a grim line.

I open the car door. “Do you still want me to come with you for Christmas?”

“Do you still want to come?” There’s a challenge in his question.

To be honest, no, but after tonight, I don’t want to hurt him, and it’s my turn to do something for us. “Yes, if you’ll have me.”

“I meant it when I asked you to come. The offer still stands.” But his eyes shout not to come.

“Then I’ll see you soon.”

“Good night, Sienna.”

I close the door and walk towards the front gate, wondering why his ‘good night’ sounded like he was telling me goodbye.

When I’m in my bedroom, I pause in the middle of the room, breathing hard. My phone rings, scaring the daylights out of me. Tyler’s name blinks on the screen.

Answering is a reflex action I regret immediately. “Tyler.” Lord, my voice sounds all wrong.

“Sienna.” His hard voice somehow offers a small sense of comfort and security. “I know it’s late, but the surgery that’s scheduled— What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bollocks. What the hell happened?” he asks.

I take a deep breath. “Really, I… Listen, can I call you later?” I need some time alone.

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“I’m on my way.”

“I…you don’t need to come.” A sob shudders through me.

“Yes, I do. Don’t give me any shit, Sienna.” There are the sounds of muffled voices, fabric swishing, and footsteps in the background.

I wipe my tears with the sleeve of my shirt. “Tyler. I’m f—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, or I’ll give you the sack.” The thud of a car door shutting comes. “I want to be there for you. Tell me what happened, and don’t make me ask again. Something happened. Don’t insult me by bullshitting me.”

I shuffle my feet, the pressure in my chest crushing my heart. “Alex.”

“I bloody knew it.” A few more curses rush out of him. “What did he do to you?”

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