21. Butterfly

Brand scrubbed his face with his hand. “Look, forget I said anything. It isn’t my intention to put pressure on you. What I meant was some day. It isn’t a conversation we should have in the middle of the night.”

“I’m going to confess something to you.”

He leaned farther back and turned to his side. I did the same.

“What I have thought about is how devastated I’d be if you and I weren’t together and you found someone else to have a family with, and there I’d be, at family gatherings, unmarried, childless, miserable, sad, and alone.” Rapid-fire words spat out of me faster than my brain could keep up.

“Whoa. Where did that come from?”

“Extreme insecurity.”

Brand brought his hand to my face and cupped my cheek. “I love you, Penelope Ramsey. There will be no finding someone else for either of us. No family that isn’t with each other.”

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“Wanna bet?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed at how much he sounded like a little boy.

“I’m serious. No one else for me. No one else for you.”

I stared into his eyes, feeling as though there was something more he wasn’t saying. He was right, though; this wasn’t the kind of conversation we should have in the middle of the night.

“Okay,” I whispered, snuggling back into him. “If that’s the case, we should sleep.”

He murmured his agreement and shifted to his back so I could rest my head on his chest.

“So tellme about this new friend of yours,” Brand said the next morning as we sat in the garden, warming our hands on big mugs of coffee.

“We met in the park. I saw her sketching, asked if I could see one, and before I knew it, I was at the art supply store with Tara, buying paints and canvases and brushes. Kind of like what I did for your birthday, but nowhere near as much or…you know…as much.”

“Do you mean less extravagant?”

“She’s just getting started. At least, I hope she is. It would be a shame for her kind of talent to go to waste.”

“I’d be interested in seeing her work.”

“She’s…I’m not sure how to put it. Skittish, maybe? It’s like she’s always looking over her shoulder.”

“Maybe she’s hiding from someone. Although a park might not be the best place for it.”

“You might be onto something, though. It really is like she’s afraid of something. Or someone.”

“It’s no way to live,” Brand said under his breath.

“I’d definitely want to ask her first before just showing up with you.”

“Of course.” He stood. “More coffee?”

“I like some, but I’ll either have to come inside or bring a blanket out here. Why is it this chilly when we’re not even halfway through October?”

Brand set his mug down and embraced me from behind. “I know how we can warm up.”

I looked over my shoulder at him. “Out here?”

“Come now, where’s your sense of adventure?”

I did feel like a stick in the mud. “We should go to the cottage.”

His eyes lit up. “Could we?”

“Sure. The gallery is closed for the next three days.”

“I have fond memories of the place.”

“Let’s make some new ones.”

Brand smiled, held out his hand, and pulled me into his arms. “I cannot help thinking your suggestion we go to the island relates in some way to us ‘warming up’ out here in the garden.”

“Smart man.”

He groaned in the same way he had last night when he walked into the bedroom and found me clad in nothing but a silk robe.

Packing was stalled onceby our need for a quickie in anticipation of our time alone on the island. When Brand pressed me up against the wall on our way out the front door and kissed me, I warned him that the car service we’d hired to take us to the ferry landing was outside and, if we didn’t leave now, it would be that much longer before we could spend the next three days making love anywhere and any way we wanted to.

Not that we were able to keep our hands to ourselves on the ninety-minute drive to the ferry landing. Thankfully, the car he’d hired had a partition we could raise between the driver and us. Even the ferry crossing seemed hours long rather than thirty minutes.

By the time we reached the cottage, we were already shedding clothes that landed in a heap next to the front door. Not the smartest move since it was freezing inside the place. Even the sheets were ice cold, not that they’d stay that way for long.

On our way to the bedroom, I’d cranked up the heat on the thermostat while Brand lit fires in the family room and the room we were now in.

“Every minute we were here the first time Tara brought me, I imagined you naked and beneath me. I wanted you then with the same desire I feel now. You in that hot-pink bikini only fueled the flames.”

“I could tell.” I pushed him onto his back and straddled him. “This was one of my fantasies. I propose we take turns fulfilling them.”

“We’ll need more than three days for mine.” His last word came out as a gasp when I lowered myself onto his hardness. “Although this was one of them.”

Over the next month,we returned to the cottage on Fire Island every chance we got. I spent our time in the city at the gallery while Brand split his between there and the Farm, where he continued training with Sundance. He was usually only gone three or four days, but when he got back, he was physically and mentally exhausted. The rest of the time, he spent painting. Most of the pieces I’d seen were done in the town house’s garden but also in different areas of my small neighborhood.

He told me how he used to come here and paint when he was younger and how many times he got asked to leave.

“Now, many of the residents stop and talk, ask about my work, and inquire about where they can purchase a piece.”

“Too bad we can’t mount a show for you at Catarina Benedetto,” I said, looking through the many canvases he’d completed. Since most were oils, they were set out on the fifth floor to dry.

Thinking about staging a show reminded me of Julie Smith, another person I’d wanted to represent. She hadn’t shown up in the park any of the times I went. Not that I’d been that often since Brand got back.

“What?” I asked when I glanced over and saw him studying me.

“There’s something we need to talk about.”

Upon hearing the same words I’d uttered every time I ended a relationship, my gut clenched, and I wrapped my arms around my midsection. It didn’t matter how ridiculous it was to think he’d break up with me, given how happy we both were, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Butterfly?” He walked over and put his hands on my upper arms. “What’s going on?”

“Whatever it is, just say it,” I snapped.

Instead of doing as I asked, he unwound my arms, put them around his waist, then pulled me into him.

“It’s work-related. Something Doc, Merrigan, and I have been talking about since my release from prison.”

“Go on.”

“Can we please discuss this elsewhere?”

While my tension was increasing with every passing minute, I agreed and followed him down a floor. “Are you sure this is where you want to have this conversation?” I asked when he led me over to the bed.

“Yes. And every other one we have when I see a deer-in-headlights look on your face, so I can hold you while we talk.”

We lay on the bed, side by side, facing each other. Before he began, Brand lifted my leg and rested it over his hip, then scooted closer.

“As you know, when I was in London last month, I had a meeting with Nemesis.”

My feelings of dread were multiplying. “I swear, Brand, you need to get to the point a fuck of a lot faster than you are.”

He leaned forward and brushed my lips with his, then pulled back. “She proposed a hypothetical scenario where I would infiltrate the Calabrian Syndicate.”

“Go on.”

“She believes the art fraud was perpetrated by the Sicilians, who used it to expropriate whatever headway the Calabrians had made.”

“Forged-art turf wars?” I asked.

“Precisely.”

“What would your involvement be?”

“As you know, Nemesis is the head of the human trafficking coalition, so my infiltrating what is believed to now be the most powerful Italian mafia has little to do with art.”

“Except it’s what would get you inside. I’m going out on a limb here. You’d offer to help them take down the Sicilians, build back the forged-art part of their business, and gain their trust in order to get information on their trafficking involvement.”

His eyes were wide. “In a nutshell, that’s the entirety of it.”

“Don’t look so surprised. I’ve watched a lot of crime TV in my life.”

“In that case, what are your thoughts?”

“Risky as fuck, which I’m guessing is the reason why you waited so long to discuss it with me.”

“My apologies.”

I shook my head. “I’m not angry. So, is this why you’ve been painting so much?”

“Yes and no. I’ve wanted to paint, and I’ve needed to practice.”

“You want them to believe you’re back in business.”

Brand cocked his head. “Seriously, why did I meet with Nemesis? You put this together far faster than I did.”

“I told you. Crime TV. And books too. Actually, books outweigh shows and movies. There’s more of a buildup when I’m reading, so more time to figure out who the bad guys are.”

“Fascinating.”

I rolled my eyes. “My ability to read is not fascinating. What made you bring this up now? Are you supposed to be getting back to her?”

“When the meeting ended, she said she wasn’t ready to move forward yet, and I haven’t heard anything since.”

“Again, why today?”

“I feel as though I’ve been keeping it from you and?—”

“Brand, it wasn’t a feeling; you were keeping it from me.”

“I will never get away with a single thing in our lives, will I? Not even the good surprises.”

“You did pretty well in California,” I said before sighing. “To be honest, I knew something was up.”

“You did?”

I reached up and touched his left eyebrow. “It’s your tell, remember?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured when you were ready to talk about whatever it was, you would.”

“Wow. You are amazingly understanding.”

“Not always,” I warned.

“Noted. So, when can we return to the island?”

“Today, if you’d like. Ava and Aine are working this weekend, so I’m not needed. Are you sure that’s where you want to go? Not, say, Florida, where it’s warmer?”

He shuddered. “There isn’t anywhere I’d rather go than Butterfly Cottage.”

“You’re weird, but okay.”

We tookthe car I rarely drove since it was harder to find a ride service to Patchogue in the offseason. We were forty-five minutes from the ferry landing when my cell vibrated with a message from Julie. “How odd. I was just thinking about her.” I said to Brand, who was behind the wheel.

“Who?”

“Julie, the woman I met in the park. Oh my God. Her message says she can’t talk, but she needs help.”

Brand’s eyes opened wide.

What’s wrong?I messaged back. A few minutes later, she called.

“Hi,” I said, holding the phone so Brand could hear the conversation too.

“I’m so sorry to do this, but I need help.”

“What can I do?” I asked.

“My mum and my baby are sick. We’re being watched. A car keeps going by the house.” Her voice cracked like she was crying.

“Where are you, Julie?”

“On Long Island, in Patchogue.”

Where we were headed. “Have you called the police?” I asked.

“No police.”

My eyes met Brand’s, and in them, I saw the same worry I felt. “Understood. Tell me how I can help.”

“I want to return to our place in the city, but I’m afraid we’ll be followed.”

“The market,” Brand mouthed, and I nodded.

“Meet me at the coffee shop in the market on Grant Street. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“You wait here,”I told Brand when we arrived at the parking structure where we’d leave the car while we were on the island. “I’m afraid she’ll bolt if she sees a man with me.”

“I’ll remain out of sight, but I will not stay here when you may be walking into danger.”

He made a good point.

When he walked into the market ahead of me and went to the left, I turned right toward the coffee shop. I immediately spotted Julie, who stood and walked toward me, holding a baby carrier. It was obvious she’d been crying.

“I’m sorry?—”

“Stop right there. First, no apologies. Second, you only have to tell me what you want me to know.” There’d been times in our lives when each one of my friends and I requested help from each other, no questions asked. I sensed Julie needed the same from me now.

“Thank you. I need to get back to the city.”

“I understand. Where are your things?”

“In the car, but…”

“You’re afraid whoever is following you is watching,” I said.

“That’s right.”

“I have someone who can assist us. I promise you can trust him.”

She glanced over to the table where I’d spotted her when I walked in. Another woman was seated there with her head down on the table. Julie looked back at me. “I don’t know what to do,” she said barely above a whisper.

“We can do this without him if it makes you uncomfortable. I haven’t told him I was meeting someone yet.” Yes, I was lying, but the last thing I wanted was for her to think my help depended on him.

“What would he do?” she asked.

“First, is that a car seat?”

“It is.”

“Good. I’m in the parking structure about a block away. We can leave now. I’ll ask my friend to wait until we’re a safe distance away, then he’ll come for your vehicle.”

“I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”

“Again, I understand. Let’s get on the road. We can figure out what to do about your car later.” While she returned to the table, I sent Brand a message, giving him an update. I glanced toward the market’s entrance and saw him give me a thumbs-up.

“Mum, we’re ready to leave,” I heard Julie say. She looked over at me. “She’s burning up. We need to get her to a hospital.”

“Do you think you and I can get her to my car?” I asked.

“Not carrying the baby too.”

We couldn’t do this without Brand. “Please let me ask my friend for help, Julie.”

“Where is he?”

“About a block away. I told him I had to grab something at the store.”

She appeared panicked.

“Don’t worry, if you didn’t want his help, I would’ve come up with some story about having to run over to my mother’s. He can’t stand her, so he would’ve offered to catch up with me later.” That was at least partially true. Brand and my mother were like oil and water.

“You don’t seem fazed by any of this,” she said, studying me.

“Julie—”

“My name is DeDe.”

The first time we met, I’d suspected she might be using a fake name, although I couldn’t explain why. It was just a gut reaction.

“DeDe, then. While I don’t know much about your situation, I have a friend who went through something similar. Two friends, actually.” This and a lot more. I didn’t have time to think about all the trouble the tribe got into when we were teenagers.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “I told you before, don’t apologize. I’ll go pick up Brand. It won’t take more than five minutes. Then, we’ll figure out whether your mom can make it into the city or if we have to take her to a hospital here.”

When she nodded, I walked toward the market’s entrance and found Brand waiting outside.

“Her mother appears very sick,” I said. “I don’t think she can make it to the car on her own. Julie, I mean DeDe, has to carry the baby.”

“DeDe?”

“I’ll explain later. We need to get her mom to a hospital, but she’s afraid to stay here in Patchogue.”

“Understood.”

“DeDe and her mom still have a place in the same building as my apartment in the city. There’s a hospital a couple of blocks away.”

“You have an apartment in the city? Along with your town house?”

I shrugged. “My dad owns the building, so there was no reason to let it go.”

“Why haven’t you said?”

“I didn’t want you to suggest you stay there instead of with me.” I winked, and he smiled.

He and Iwalked in the back door of the market five minutes later, as promised. “Take the baby to the car. Brand will stay with you until you’re settled, then he’ll come help me with your mom.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Your art. My gallery,” I said, winking at her like I had to Brand.

When he returned after helping DeDe, we tried to wake her mother. She responded but was very out of it.

“Do you think it’s wise to wait until we’re in the city? She’s burning up.”

“She’s terrified, Brand. I think we have to try.”

Rather than both of us attempting to brace her between us, he picked the woman up and carried her.

“Thank you for doing this,” I said to him.

“I would do anything for you, Butterfly.”