Page 49 of XOXO, Little Butterfly (The Storyteller’s Bodyguard #2)

Tristan

“Ashford left the island and went to Boston,” I read the text I’ve received from the detail on the detective.

“Boston,” Birdie emerges from the suite bathroom, holding a bag of toiletries, “what’s in there?”

“Saldana’s case I guess. He must be pretending to be on police business, but he’s just losing the tail, covering his tracks with an alibi before he flies to Miami.”

She packs the bag in the open suitcase on the bed. “Let him think he lost the tail. Let him come to Miami thinking he’s the smartest person in the room.”

“Copy. I’ve also sent Dixon and Riley to Miami before us to cover as much ground as possible. They’ll be your security backup.”

Concern wrinkles her forehead. “What do I need backup for? Tristan, if the plan we’ve devised puts you in danger, let’s make another. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

I smile. “Nothing is gonna happen to me. You’ll go in the school building alone as planned, and I’ll be on the rooftop of the building across, ready with my rifle to take him down.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay with this? Taking him down yourself instead of letting the police handle it?”

“He is the police, Birdie. He’d have gotten away with it. It’s the only way to keep you safe. I’ve told you so many times before, and I’ll tell you now. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.”

She swallows. “I’m still worried about you. If anything goes wrong, I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. It’s a clean operation.”

“Then why the backup? More details could spook him away,” she stresses.

“The stalker isn’t working alone. What if he brings his accomplice or accomplices to the meet? We need the backup. Don’t worry. They’ll be discreet.”

“But—”

I place my palms on her cheeks. “Do you trust me?”

A sigh leaves her lips, erasing all doubt from her gaze. “You’re the only one I trust, Tristan. That’s why I can’t lose you.”

“You’re never gonna lose me.” My lips brush hers. “I’ll go get my things ready.”

In the car, she rests her head on the window and drifts away. I keep my eyes on her. She’s mesmerizing in her sleep.

Her jacket slides off her shoulder, exposing her upper arm.

I notice one of her scars that looks rather recent.

A tiny incision, about two inches on the inner side.

I brush my thumb on it and feel something like a thin, small object underneath.

My mind instantly thinks of bullet fragments and shrapnel.

I’ve had my share of those, removing them or living with them on a daily basis. But Birdie has never been in combat.

She flinches into awareness. Her gaze dips to where I’m touching her, and she quickly fixes her jacket to cover her arm. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. That scar… There’s something under it. What is it?”

“Nothing.” She glances at Brandon in the driver’s seat, and her voice drops. “It’s just Nexplanon.”

“Nex what?”

She laughs under her breath and whispers, “Birth control implant.”

My eyes narrow at her. “I thought you said you were on the pill.”

“Yeah… It’s easier to say that to a man instead of having to explain what Nexplanon is, like I’ve just done now. It kind of ruins the mood.”

Point taken.

She stares out of the window, a line between her eyebrows forming. Then she fills her chest with a long breath and exhales it in a longer sigh.

“Penny for your thoughts,” I say.

A fake smile forms and dies on her lips. “You never told me your old last name.”

“Umm, if I tell you, will you tell me what’s really on your mind?”

Her head rests back and bobs with a nod.

“Cáceres, and Tristán is my middle name.”

“Cáceres.” She tries the name in a terrible accent. “I prefer Morra.”

“Me too. Now, I have one for you. Why didn’t you change your last name back to your maiden name after you know who went to prison?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t have enough time. It was a very hard time for me. Everything went into a downward spiral. Then I met Blake. It was all happening so fast. You know the rest of that story.” Her eyes peer at me. “My turn. What is your original first name?”

“That’s for you to remember. I gave you enough hints.”

“That’s not fair. You know I suck at recalling names. I’ll never remember.”

“Stop evading my question and tell me what’s troubling you. Listen, if you don’t wanna go to Miami anymore, it’s not too late to change your mind.”

“No, of course not. I was just wondering.”

“About?”

“3:17 p.m., the first time Reid Ashford saw me. We know it was at the school. What was he doing there at that time?”

“3:17 is around pickup time. He could have been picking up a student. A son, a daughter.”

“He said he’d never gotten married and didn’t mention any children, but he did say he had a sister.”

“Do you know how old?”

“Early twenties. That makes her what, fourteen, fifteen back then?”

I pull out my phone and retrieve the student list of suspects. I search for Ashford. A match is immediately found. I show it to Birdie. “Look, Melinda Ashford. Twenty-three. Father deceased. Only known male relative is Reid Ashford, her brother.”

Birdie removes her shades and stares at the screen for a few seconds. She blinks between my face and the name before she scoffs. “That’s it. That’s how he’s connected to the school. All this time, Reid Ashford has been Butterfly Man. And Melinda …may be the one helping him.”

“You think he’s using his own sister to send his creepy notes for him?”

“I guess we’re about to find out.”