Page 5 of Sincerely, Butterfly

“We will watch her and make sure she’s safe, but she will no longer be part of our lives.”

“This fucking sucks,” Sylas complains.

“Who's gonna tell her?” Wesley asks, looking between Sylas and me.

“I will,” I answer, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.

Sylas is too nice, he will beat around the bush.

Wesley wouldn’t sayanything; he would wait for one of us to do it.

I need her to understand that things are changing. If it means I have to make her hate me, then so be it.

We’re doing this for her. “Hey.” A bright voice makes my heart leap out of my chest. “There you guys are.” She laughs, out of breath. “I thought we always met outside?”

Wesley and Sylas look at me like deer in the headlights.

“Go,” I tell them.

They flick their gaze to Nola, something like hurt flashing in their eyes before turning around and heading to their fathers.

“Where are they going?” Lola asks, confused. She looks so prettytonight in a pink sundress, and her platinum blonde hair pulled into a ponytail.

“We’re not kids anymore.” I turn around to face her. “The three of us are men now. Our days of running around in the garden and chasing you through the maze are over. It’s time to grow up, Nola.”

Her lips part in shock, and it kills me as I push past her, going to join my father at his side.

I try not to seek her out, but I look to the side when she finds her father. He leans down to listen to what she has to say.

He nods his head, and the pair turn around and walk out of my house.

That would be the last time I saw her up close for a long, long time.

I just hope that by the time I claim her as mine, I haven’t become just like the monsters of my world.

If I am, I will continue to stay away.

If I can’t give her the same kind of love and devotion that my father gives my mother, I’ll let her go.

Even if it kills me.

CHAPTER

ONE

NOLA

Every timethey open their mouths, spilling those not-so-hushed whispers and nerve-grating snickers, it takes every ounce of my willpower to refrain from taking the pencil I’m twirling around my fingers and stabbing it into their necks.

I bet they wouldn’t be amused if they were gasping for air and gargling on their own blood as they slowly drowned, bleeding out right here in the middle of English class.

I mean,Iwould. I’d enjoy every second of it with a smile firmly planted on my lips. I wouldn’t think twice about ending their lives. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it either.

Unfortunately, I can’t give in to my intrusive thoughts. You know, with murder being illegal and all that.

Shame, I know.

Plus, if Ididfollow through with every little thought that popped into my head, then I’d be leaving a long trail of bodies behind me.