Chasing Butterflies

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously and are not to be construed as real.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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 First Edition

Copyright 2016 Terri E. Laine

dedication

This book is dedicated to my daughter who got her hopeless romantic streak from me.

acknowledgments

First and foremost a humongous thank you to all my readers for taking a chance on me. There are millions of books to read and you chose mine. That’s HUGE to me. And without you, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to share all the stories that are in my head. So Thank You again.

Many THANKS go to Nina Grinstead at Social Butterfly PR. She is my IT girl. She listens to me whine and still pulls together a spectacular marketing plan she’s worked her ass off. She’s opened many doors for me and I can’t thank her enough for her support.

There is a group of people, my beta readers, who deserve my upmost appreciation. Their input for project made this book better by leaps and bounds. So Thank You: Nina Grinstead, Jill Patten, Annie Hargrove, and Ana Rente. You ladies are the absolute BEST!

A special thanks to Ana for her support and the wonderful teasers she makes without me asking. You rock!

There are not enough special thanks to my awesome writer partner, Annie Hargrove, who is there for me without question or fail. You are an amazing friend and business partner!!!

A huge thank you to Sofie at Luminos Graphic House for designing one of the most beautiful covers I’ve ever published. And thanks to Jeff for the gorgeous photography.

Finally, I want to thank Emily from Lawrence Editing for polishing up my manuscript. And to Max Henry for adding the details to the formatting that make the book even more stunning visually than I thought possible.

Darkness didn’t hide
everything as I was jerked awake by the piercing scream that tore through our silent house. The cry ended as abruptly as it began and was followed by the telltale tinkling sounds of glass breaking. Muffled noises erupted as a struggle continued to play out in the front room. The closed door beckoned me, but the sticky pull of that place between sleep and fear had me stuck to my bed like glue. My gaze, however, was able to cross over the small distance to my brother’s bed. His noiseless breathing remained undisturbed as headphones covered his ears.

One thing I read in a book said courage wasn’t given, it was earned. Slowly, I forced my limbs to move and stepped into the gap between our beds before frantically shaking my brother awake.

His eyes popped open in alarm, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through our small window.

“What’s going on?” he asked gruffly.

I pointed a hesitant finger toward the door that separates us from the madness outside our room.

Ripping his headphones off, he did it in time for a bloodcurdling shriek to pierce the darkness with its lance.

My brother, big for his age, had only grown more in the last year. He was almost as large as the monster who masqueraded as our father, and in that moment was our only hope to save our mother. His arm muscles flexed as he pushed himself up and swung his massive legs over the side of the bed. The weights he’d been lifting and kept hidden under his bed had certainly done their job. I envisioned him as the superhero he was to me.

He unfolded his body as he got to his feet, towering over me by leaps and bounds.

“You stay here, kid.”

I straightened my posture, not liking being called a child. I was only five years younger than him. Though at eight years young, I stood no chance against the villain who invaded our walls.

“Even Batman has a sidekick,” I protested, hating the squeaky sound that escaped my croaky throat.

He flashed me a smile that warmed my chest in a way I was sure he was proud of me. “Fine, you help Mom and I’ll stop Dad.”

We traded nods as I watched him stalk to the door with determination in his step. For once, we weren’t going to cower in the shadows. We would stop Dad once and for all and save Mom from any more ugly bruises, or worse, a trip to the hospital.

He yanked the door open just as Mom came skidding to a stop flat on her back in front of it. Her wide eyes pleaded with us to stay inside as she made wild gestures with her hands. But not this time. We would save her.

Heat licked at
my skin as sweat formed and dripped off my brow. The Texas summer day kicked my ass and messed with my concentration inside the stifling trailer. I didn’t let it stop me, though. Determination carved my path with a single purpose. If I didn’t get the job done, I knew my friends and brother who waited outside would razz me about it until the day I died.

The useless fan sent a breeze of stale air that smelled like the wharf at the end of the day. The whiff of dead fish was the real reason why I couldn’t keep it up.

“Put that big thing of yours inside,” the girl beneath me moaned.

“Be quiet,” I snapped because her onion breath only made my eyes water.

My sharp words should have pissed her off. Instead, it had the opposite effect. She grinned and fumbled with a few buttons, parting her shirt open down the middle. Her boobs spilled out and caught my attention as she’d meant them to. When she pinched the tips between her small fingers and tugged them taut, everything changed.

Stiff as a board, I was ready for my next try at shoving inside her. Before, with everything so wet and me not so hard, I kept slipping out. My next plunge filled her, and I stayed in place.

Everything in my mind emptied. Home, school, the temperature, and smells, none of it scattered my thoughts anymore. She must have felt it too because her back bowed and her eyes rolled back.

I held there a second, the feeling so intense I didn’t want to ever leave the place I would soon dub nirvana. I pulled back and that act made things ten times better. Instinct took over, and I clamped my hands down on her hips and started to pump inside her like the guy in the porn flick I’d seen on someone’s phone at school.

It could have been one stroke, five, ten, or twenty. I’d lost count when my brain went offline. I had no idea how long it’d been when I realized she was speaking to me. Nothing mattered as I felt close to exploding.

“Touch me here,” she groaned, pointing to a place between her legs.

To know I made her sound so breathy made me feel like Batman, and no longer Robin to my older brother. I glanced down where our bodies joined and then pulled apart in a rhythmic movement. I followed her instructions where she wanted me to touch, having no experience other than what I’d seen and heard. Besides that, I wanted to stay inside her because it was way better than my hand.

Only I couldn’t let go of her hips for fear she’d fall off the counter where I held her in place. I extended my thumb and brushed over something small, round, and hard under her curly mound.

Whatever I did caused her to scream, and her insides clamped around me like my fist did when I jerked off. That was all it took to blow my load out of my balls harder than it ever had before. A few more thrusts and I half collapsed with her pinned between me and the wall.

I caught my breath before I could think again. I stood up and pulled out some. The condom started to stay inside her, so I gripped it at the base before finally separating us completely.

“You can toss it in the trash over there.”

She pointed to her left. I glanced in that direction, but spun around until I spotted an opening down a narrow hall. I half pulled my jeans up with my free hand and held them in place as I made my way in that direction.

“Where are you going?”

I didn’t bother to answer. My brother had drilled into me some things he said I shouldn’t ever forget. One was to never trust a girl. Wrap it up and flush it down the toilet when you’re done.

The door turned out to be the bathroom like I’d hoped. It was small. I barely stepped inside having to duck my head, and I dropped the used condom in the toilet before flushing it. On instinct, I washed my hands, something Mom had always schooled us about. Her number one thing over the years was to make sure to keep our hands clean.

After zipping my pants up, I made my way back into the kitchen where I’d fucked the tiny girl who now stood before me. Tall for my age, she barely reached the middle of my chest.

She glanced up at me with her half pretty face and the spot between her eyebrows wrinkled. “How old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen.” The lie came easily.

Because she and her mom were new to the area, we hadn’t gone to school together. And I guessed I’d grown over the summer. So, I looked more the part.

With a wink and a grand smile, she said, “Well, you sure are cute. Your eyes are a little freaky, but you’re welcome to come back anytime.”

I nodded ignoring her comment about my eyes, having heard it all before, and followed her to the door. When I stepped outside, waiting hands were there to slap my back in congratulations. The door closed behind me and our group moved a small distance away before I was assaulted with questions.

“How was it?”, “What the fuck were you doing to her in there?”, “She was screaming bloody murder!” were some of them thrown at me all at once.

Sandy, who’d set the whole thing up, intervened. “Guys, give the man some room.”

The man comment made my chest puff up as I watched my brother wave his hand. It was like magic, sending everyone to put distance between us.

“Well?” one of my buddies asked as they all stared at me in anticipation.

It was then I realized, friends or not, it wasn’t any of their business. The big reveal they hoped for wasn’t happening. In grand fashion, I shrugged, sporting what I was sure the biggest smirk ever.

“Aww, man, come on,” they pleaded at once, while my brother stood stoic and waiting.

I shrugged again, having nothing to say. I’d never been much of a talker. I was the guy who sat and watched things happen while waiting for my moment.

A torrent of words was hurled at me, trying to convince me not to keep the details to myself.

“Dudes, let the man be.”

My brother was the commanding presence that caused all eyes to shoot in his direction. He was well respected by me and my comrades. He didn’t treat us like little kids, which earned our admiration. They traded glances with me before I nodded. They looped off in deep conversation, speculating about my first time.

“So?” Sandy asked after they’d rounded a corner of another trailer.

He was one of the two people in the world I trusted. Even though I looked up to him, I didn’t want to give him all the details either.

He didn’t push, so when I remained quiet, he asked, “At least tell me you finished?”

I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t speak. There was so much I had to figure out. The experience had been mind-bending. So, I bobbed my head instead.

He slapped my back hard. If he hadn’t taught me over the years how to take a lick, I might have stumbled forward. But he had and couldn’t kick my ass as easily as he used to.

We walked the long way home, and I half listened to him speak. Mostly, I replayed in my head what it had felt like to be inside a girl for the first time. It was far better than I’d imagined. More importantly, it had drained all my worries away. I’d thought of nothing about how life sucked. Thus I would have to do it again and soon.

What shocked the shit out of me was finding Mom sitting on the porch of our tiny four-room house, if you didn’t count the only bathroom. Sandy was just as surprised to see her as I was.

I found my voice, which was a mix of low and high tones. “Mom, you’re home?”

It was a stupid question and maybe I’d lost several brain cells while having sex. But she worked two jobs, and I rarely saw her. I thought maybe she was there to tell us we had to move again because we were being kicked out.

“I couldn’t miss today.” She stood and enveloped me in a hug. All I could do was pray I didn’t smell like pussy. I had no desire to explain to Mom what I’d been up to. “I had two good reasons to take off this evening.”

Her eyes focused on me. “Happy birthday, Kelley.”

It wasn’t fake. I truly felt the smile that split my face open. Mom had that effect on people, including me. She made everyone feel welcome and happy to be alive.

“Thanks, Mom.”

She smelled like fresh flowers, and I closed my eyes a second, fighting the urge to be her baby boy. It felt too good to have her arms around me. I pulled back and glanced at my brother, waiting for the jab.

He ruffled my hair. “How does it feel to be thirteen, little bro?”

He’d stopped calling me kid that long ago night, five years in the wind.

“Don’t bother him,” Mom chided. “Besides, I’m also here to spend the evening with my oldest son, who’s shipping out tomorrow.”

That one sentence shifted the mood. The celebration was over that quick as tears threatened to spill from Mom’s eyes. Sandy had to report for duty with the marines, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle things when he was gone.

“It’s only four years and I’ll be back. They’ll pay for school and everything after I’m discharged. Besides, I won’t need my paychecks and will be able to send you most of the money I earn. Then you can quit one of your jobs.”

We hated that Mom worked so hard for us and always looked tired. It was the reason I hadn’t begged my brother to stay because Dad had been manageable since that night. He still drank, but he wasn’t as violent.

When Mom’s smile melted away, I knew she saw it. My hair half hid it, but Mom’s eagle eye noticed most everything. She reached over and pushed the hair from my right eye.

“What happened?”

I sighed. “Got shit from some kid about my name. He got a lucky shot in, but I finished him.” Sandy’s brows arched. “Why did you give us girl names anyway?”

Mom frowned. “Kelley was a boy’s name long before it became a popular girl’s name. It’s an Irish name.”

“What about Sandy?” I asked.

She eyed my brother before answering. “It’s your Dad’s father’s name. Besides, it was originally a Scottish boy’s name, not a girl’s name.”

We’d never known any of our grandparents. Dad never spoke about his parents, and Mom didn’t get along with hers. I was about to ask why name my brother after someone he never talked about when through the open screen door, a voice called out that grated on my nerves.

“Jackie, get me a beer, honey.”

We all traded glances before Mom looked away, unable to meet our eyes. We’d begged her to leave him, but she wouldn’t. She said we didn’t understand that he was a good man. No good man would ever hurt his wife the way he did. At least no TV show I’d seen with a happy family showed the father beating his wife.

I reached out to stop her from following that prick’s instructions. She gave me a small smile before my hand fell away. The screech of the door opening voiced my silent scream. I hated my father and the shit he put us through.

Sandy placed a hand on my shoulder. “You have to be the man of the house now.” I nodded. “You’ll be fine. Just keep out of Dad’s way.” I nodded again. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He held out a fist, and I bumped it. I was tall, but I hadn’t yet grown as big as my brother. I wouldn’t be able to handle our father when he got drunk like Sandy could. The only thing I’d be able to do would be to stand in front of Mom when he felt the need to punch someone. I could take it better than she could.