Page 7 of Broken Butterfly
I truly have lost my ever-loving mind, I think as I follow Fallon down a short, narrow flight of stairs on a yacht we just boarded. I know I’ve already said it today, but what the hell am I thinking?
Fallon opens a door and leads me into an expansive, stately room that resembles a luxury hotel suite. A queen-sized bed filled with pillows of various sizes sits at one end of the room with a full entertainment center directly across from it. The TV is mounted on the wall. An elegant wood desk, a dresser, and a small love seat and coffee table finish the room’s furnishings. The room is decorated in muted shades of dusty blue and gray.
“There’s a selection of clothes and shoes in that closet that should fit you,” he tells me. “We’ll pick up whatever else you need along the way.”
I open the small closet and find a myriad of colorful blouses and skirts. There are also tailored slacks and dresses. I finger the fabric of one of the blouses. It feels like satin. I turn to Fallon. “Whose clothes are these?” If he says they belong to his mother, I’ll refuse to wear them. That’s just fucking creepy.
“They’re my sister’s. She’s shorter than you, but I think most of her stuff should fit.”
“Wait a minute. You have a sister too?” It wasn’t that long ago I found out that Trevor was his half-brother. How many secret siblings does this guy have?
“Another result of my father’s numerous affairs. It wouldn’t surprise me if I had dozens of half-siblings scattered around the globe I don’t know about.”
“Wow,” is all I can say.
Fallon leans a shoulder against the doorframe and crosses his arms. “You’d like her. She lives in Madrid. I go see her about once a year and we sail the Mediterranean together for a month during the summer.”
“What’s her name?”
“Tatiána.”
I catalog that bit of information for later. Fallon straightens and walks away from the door. After he leaves, I lock the door and remove a few garments from the closet and lay them on the bed. Next, I investigate the contents inside the dresser drawers. I find a selection of sleepwear, underwear, bras, garters, and socks. I grab the items I need and throw them on the bed next to the clothes. Slowly turning around in a circle, I take everything in, while continuing to question how I got here.
After we left Fallon’s frat, he drove us to a marina. Just like this morning, people stopped what they were doing and stared. Fallon was dressed in dark charcoal trousers and a nice sweater. I, however, was still wearing the sleep clothes he had given me and a pair of men’s slippers. We must have looked like the oddest couple. He walked me down a long dock then stopped in front of an enormous yacht.
“Holy shit, Fallon,” I said in disbelief. “Is this your parents’?”
“No, kitten. It’s mine. Come on.” Despite my newfound curiosity, Fallon practically had to drag my ass onto the boat.
“What am I doing here?” I had asked him while watching several crew members walk around doing whatever people do to get a yacht ready to set sail. One of the crewmen approached me carrying a tray with prepared drinks. He greeted me by name and asked if I needed anything. I declined. This was insane. I tugged on Fallon’s arm.
“Fallon.”
“Give me your phone, kitten.”
“What?”
He reached out, palm up, waiting. “Give me your fucking phone.”
“Not a chance in hell,” I told him.
“You want to find out which Elizabeth you’re going to be? I’m giving you that chance. Give me your phone.”
“Why do you need my phone, Fallon? I need to call Ryder, Jayson, and Julien and let them know I’m okay.”
“Already took care of that.”
“What? When?” He must have done it earlier when he left his room and I fell asleep.
“Kitten, you came to me for help. I’m helping. You might not understand how right now, but you will. The first thing you need is time and space away from Ry, Jay, and Jules. You can’t do that if you’re texting and calling them at all hours every day. Now, put your goddamn phone in my hand or I will take it from you.”
“Jesus! Fine! Here.” I slapped my phone into his hand.
“Good girl.”
Another worry popped into my head. “Fallon, I have classes I can’t miss. I’m already a year behind.”
“Also taken care of. Will you just shut up and fucking trust me?”
