Page 157 of Sincerely, Butterfly

“I love you. But I really don’t want to have this conversation again.” I lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Bye.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “You stubborn boy. I wish you’d just allow yourself to be happy!” she calls after me.

“I’m perfectly happy!” I shout back before opening the door to the garage.

I’m not fucking happy. I’m stressed the fuck out of my damn mind. I feel like I’m losing control of my life and everything in it. And now I’m failing my father.

I’m set to take over the company for him come this fall, but would he still want me to after seeing how badly I’m handling everything with the Brotherhood?

Grabbing my bike helmet, I shove it on, straddle my bike, and take off.

I love going for drives at night. The roads are dead, giving me free rein to ride however I want.

I’m heading down my street, ready to turn off to head towards the highway, when I see a girl walking on the side of the street.

At first, I question how smart this girl is. I mean, she’s out after dark, alone when there’s a killer on the loose. And, on top of that, she fits in with all his targets.

As I pass, I cast a quick glance out of curiosity. As soon as I see her face, I have to do a double-take.

Anger boils inside me, and my hands grip the handlebars roughly.What the fuck is Nola doing out here alone?! Is she fucking crazy?

I slow the bike down and do a sharp U-turn, making a loop around before catching up with her. I ride the bike up onto the sidewalk, cutting her off.

“What the hell?!” she shrieks, her blue eyes wide with shock and terror.

With the bike still idling, I turn to face her.

“Why are you out here alone?” I shout over the rumble of my bike’s engine.

“Jasper?” Her brows pull together.

I push up the visor of my helmet, glaring down at her.

“Answer the question, Nola,” I demand. I’m so pissed off that she would be so stupid as to risk her safety like this. “There’s a killer running around New Orleans, killing young girls who look just like you. You know this. So why the fuck are you out here alone at night?”

She blinks at me a few times before raising a brow. “I’m fine. Trust me.”

“Excuse me while I call bullshit,” I snap. “You’re not fine. And I’m not going to leave you here just to find out you’re this sick fuck’s next victim. Get on the bike, Nola.”

“You’re being ridiculous. But, if you must know, I’m armed.” She reaches into her large purse, and this girl pulls out a full fucking butcher’s knife.

“Why the hell do you have that in your purse?”

“Uh, protection? Callie said it was smart to bring a knife if I went anywhere on my own.”

“I think she meant like a fucking switchblade, not a kitchen knife.”

“What’s the difference?” she questions. “If I can stab them with it, that's all that matters, right?” she states matter-of-factly while waving the damn thing around like it doesn’t have the capability to cause some serious damage in the right hands.

I guess she does have a point. It could work. But she’s being so careless, she’s going to end up hurting herself.

“Would you put that away before you hurt yourself?” I snarl.

She just rolls her eyes and shoves the knife back into her purse.She rolls her fucking eyes! Who is this girl?

Because she sure as hell isn’t the Nola I thought I knew. Whatever influence Callie has over Nola, I’m not sure I like it.

“Get on the bike,” I command.