Page 6 of Z For Butterfly Man
“A date on the same day she broke up with Tristan… She doesn’t waste time.”
“That’s it! Listen to me, you piece of shit, if you mouth another bad word about her, I won’t give a fuck about my badge. I’ll beat the shit out of you, do you hear me?”
“Youwill beat the shit out ofme? Bring it, Detective. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
Part of me wants to take him up on it. Wants to feel something crack, wants to bleed out this helpless rage that’s eating me alive. But, for Birdie’s sake, I must stay focused, not reckless. “You’re gonna call Morra right now or I’ll bring you in too for being his accomplice.”
He doesn’t flinch, but he grabs his phone.
“Put it on speaker.”
His glare pierces me as he places his phone on the desk and taps the screen. “I’m only doing this so you’ll get the fuck out of here and never bother us again. Copy?”
Our stares clash as the dial tone echoes through my chest. One ring. Two. Three. Fou—
“Yes, Marcus?” Morra’s voice cuts through, sharp and alert. Too alert for someone who should still be jet-lagged and heartbroken over the woman he’s been obsessed with for eight years.
Marcus plays with his stupid moustache. “Good morning to you, too. How’s New York?”
“Dirty and fucked-up like the whole world, but I’m guessing that’s not why you’re calling first thing in the morning. Hit me. Who fucked up what now?”
“No one on our side, but Detective what’s-his-name is here. He wants to talk to you. You’re on speaker.”
“What? What are you doing there, Ashford? We have nothing to talk about, you and me. Get out of my building. Marcus, how the hell did you let him—”
“Where’s Birdie, Morra?” I cut him off. I’m done with the charade. “If she’s with you, if she went back to you…” I snarl, a flimsy disguise screwed tight over the panic boiling underneath. I’m furious she might be with him, terrified she might not be. “I just need to know she’s safe.”
“What do you mean if she’s with me?”
“We’re all adults here. She doesn’t have to hide it from me. You can just tell me.”
“Tell you what? I haven’t seen her since yesterday. What the fuck?”
“Morra, just be a man and tell me if you have her!”
“Jesus fuck! Are you deaf or stupid or both? She’s not with me. She chose you, and you were supposed to protect her. What the hell did you do? Did something happen to her? I swear to God, if you couldn’t keep her safe, if someone so much as touched a hair of hers, I’ll fucking kill you. What happened?!”
The silence that follows stretches too long. My heartbeat echoes in my ears. The copper tang of fear fills my mouth, fear I haven’t felt since—
“She stood him up last night and wouldn’t return his calls. Now, he thinks she’s missing,” Marcus chimes in, “and, apparently, you’re his prime suspect. I’d be arrested as your accomplice, too. Lucky me.”
“Missing?” Morra ignores the sarcasm. “Ashford, when was the last time you spoke to her?”
“Six thirty yesterday. I arrived at her house at eight, but she never opened the door. I thought maybe she had a change of heart or needed some time to process…” But she’d have answered my texts, at least.
“Did you go inside the house? Did you check the lighthouse or the bistro? Did you do something, anything, to find her?”
“I couldn’t find her anywhere. I’ve been looking at traffic cameras all night to find her car or the Ducati, and nothing. That’s why I came here…to make sure before I get a warrant to search her house.”
“Fuck you, Ashford.Iwill find her. I’m coming back on the next flight.”
CHAPTER 4
Butterfly Man
Centered. Displayed. Perfect symmetry. I step back and let myself see it. My creation.
From this angle, I can see where fear sharpens her cheekbones, where defiance tightens her mouth. The body tells truths the mouth never will. Every direction accounted for. Every impulse answered before it’s born. A body translated into intention. When she moves, the movement stops inside her, collapses inward, turns into breath and sound instead of action.
