Page 73 of Z For Butterfly Man
“Fuck you!” My mother slaps him and shoves me down the stairs.
I tumble down on my face, my body slamming against each step. Something in my shoulder pops. My head cracks against the banister. Then I’m at the bottom, sprawled on the floor.
“Reagan!” Mason yells.
More shouting fills the air. Scuffling. My mother screaming obscenities. The room spins, and I see red, literally. Blood must have gotten into my eyes.
Strong hands lift me, careful despite the urgency. Mason’s face swims into view above me, his expression twisted with fury and fear. “I got ya,” he says. “I got you.”
He carries me out of the house, my mother’s curses following us into the street, all the way to his car, and settles me gently in the back seat. Then he presses his jacket against my bleeding forehead and tells me to keep pressure on it.
“I’m sorry,” he keeps saying as he drives to the hospital. “Fuck, Reagan, I can’t believe this shit. This woman had been friends with my mom for years. She was nice to us. She had me over for days when Mom died. How could she be so goddamn… Fuck.”
“She locked me up in the attic to have you over, Mason.”
“Jesus Christ! I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I mean I thought it was just a little… I should’ve known… You weren’t exaggerating…”
“It’s fine.” I manage through the pain radiating from my shoulder and back…and head and…everywhere. “I’m used to it.”
“That ain’t fine. None of this is fine.”
“There’s no stopping her, Mason. There’s no stopping them.”
“There gotta be a way.”
I swallow a moan, thinking about my next words carefully. Should I tell him? Can I trust him?
“When you say them…” He glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Is he… Does Shane still…”
“Yes,” I whisper. “He comes to my room late at night when he’s bored of his whores. I tried to stop him, to say no, but…” My eyes squeeze shut. “He doesn’t take no for an answer. Suffice it to say it wasn’t Mother who fractured my pelvis three months ago.”
Mason’s breath seethes. “He ruined both our lives and lives like a fucking king. He can’t do this shit anymore. He’s gotta be stopped.”
“She, too. She, too, must be stopped.”
“We can go to the police, you know. I’ll testify. I’ll tell them everything.”
“That ship has sailed, Mason. Last year, maybe that could have worked, but now, there’s no evidence, and your testimony won’t count, not after what they made the whole town believe about you and me.”
“We can’t just stand by and let them do whatever the fuck they want. There’s gotta be something we can do to stop them.”
“You’re right.” I pull myself up, groaning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and there might be a way to make Shane and Mother pay for what they’ve done, a way to get our lives back without any more fear or pain, but I can’t do it on my own. I need your help.”
Mason’s eyes lock on mine. He studies me for a long, silent beat, the air thick with what we both know must come next. Then he nods once. “Whatever you need, I’m in.”
CHAPTER 34
Butterfly Man
“You can’t kill Tristan.” A tear slips out of the corner of her eye. “That’s enough.”
She mutters other things, but I don’t listen. I’m mesmerized by that one tear. I want to taste it, own it, even if it’s shed for another man. I release the bottom of my mask and lick it off her face.
Her lashes bat against my tongue. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Making that tear mine.” I savor the taste. “It’s real, but it’s for someone else, someone who didn’t deserve you. I own your tears, Reagan. They’re all mine. You are mine.”
“You killed an innocent man. A good man whose only sin was trying to save me.”
