Page 6 of XOXO, Little Butterfly (The Storyteller’s Bodyguard #2)

I sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve thoroughly reviewed all the footage and checked the security systems.”

“He replaced the footage, Tristan. He explicitly said the only thing you’d be seeing was me sleeping in bed.”

“Even if that’s the case, there will be a trace to the breach, a hacking mark of sorts, a backdoor entry.”

“Even if that’s the case?”

Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for what I have to do next. “I need to show you something.” I pull out my phone and queue up the bedroom footage.

As we watch, I point out the facts as objectively and gently as I can, the closed windows, the locked door, the lack of any other presence in the room and what she said to Brandon while she was lying in bed.

Anger builds in her eyes. “This is bullshit. I don’t give a crap about what your broken system is showing. I know he was here. I felt him, talked to him. Even Brandon heard him.”

“He heard you . Only you .”

“What are you trying to tell me, Tristan?”

“For an intruder to enter undetected, they would have had to bypass not just our technology, but also somehow fight our guards without leaving any trace. Our electronic security systems show no breaches, and all the guards have been at their posts all night in one piece. There’s no evidence of any intruders, Birdie. ”

“You think I’m making this up?” she snaps, pushing the phone away, and jumps out of the bed.

“No. I know you believe this is what happened, but… You’ve been under a lot of stress, and you haven’t been sleeping well. We must consider all possibilities. Is there any chance—”

“No!” she cuts me off. “Don’t you dare suggest it was a dream or my imagination. I felt his breath on my skin, his hands on me, his fucking gun between my legs. I can still feel his fingers inside me.”

Her words hit me like a physical blow. I can’t wait to feel the son of a bitch’s heart pop in my hand. I take a step toward her, but she moves away from me. My shoulders slump. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m just trying to understand—”

“No, you don’t.” Fresh tears spill down her cheeks that she wipes out fast. “He said he’d been watching us for weeks. How is that possible if your security is so impenetrable?”

A chill runs down my spine. We have a much bigger problem on our hands than I’ve thought if what she’s saying is real.

“I don’t know,” I admit, hating the words as they leave my mouth.

“But I promise you, I’m going to find out.

We’re going to go over every inch of this place, review every second of footage from the past weeks.

If there’s any way he could have gotten information about our security, we’ll find it. ”

“More promises when you don’t even believe me… How naive do you think I am?”

“I believe you, Birdie. I do. But give me something to work with here. Any detail that can lead me to find him.”

She closes her eyes and presses her palms to her temples.

“He was wearing all black, and he had the butterfly mask on his face. His scent didn’t stand out.

The leather from the gloves was overpowering.

He’s tall, strong, unhinged.” Her eyes open as she shakes her head at me.

“But in a way, he’s…gentle, even familiar. ”

My heart skips a beat. “Familiar? Do you recognize anything about him?”

“Not really. Nothing I can place.”

“What about his voice? He talked to you.”

“It was gruff, but I don’t think it’s natural. He was altering it on purpose. You know, like Bruce Wayne and Batman.” She looks away with a scoff. “I know how ridiculous I sound right now, but it’s the truth.”

None of this helps. Based on the evidence and facts, Butterfly Man could easily be nothing but a fragment of Birdie’s overactive imagination.

I walk over to her. I need her to look me in the eye when she answers my next question.

“Why didn’t you say your safe word to Brandon?

You called him by his first name when you could have easily said Gatsby.

Why didn’t you signal him to come in and take Butterfly Man down? ”

Something flickers in her gaze, a mix of fear and anger and...something she’s trying so hard to hold back. “Because Butterfly Man threatened to kill Brandon if he came in. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone innocent getting hurt because of me.”

The idea that she put herself through something so drastic and dangerous to protect one of us… It’s almost more than I can bear.

It’s almost too good to be true.

“That’s exactly what we’re here for. We’re trained to handle these situations.”

She shakes her head, looking away as if she’s remembering the events all over again.

“You don’t understand. Butterfly Man knew things, Tristan.

Things about the security here, about you.

He knew you weren’t here, and I thought he chose that time to break in because he could take Brandon down if he had to.

Maybe if it was you at my door, I wouldn’t hesitate.

I knew you could handle it, but Brandon…

He’s just too young.” Her gaze locks on mine. “Where were you?”

I don’t appreciate the blame in her voice. “You should never put yourself at risk like that. Every man on the security team is more than capable of protecting you. I wouldn’t leave here if that wasn’t true.”

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t feel that way when I ran to get Blake’s gun to fight Butterfly Man myself only to realize he was fucking me with it all along.”

My blood pounds my skull at the image that will sear my brain forever. Growling like a wounded beast, I punch the nearest thing next to me.

“Tristan!”

Fuck. I shouldn’t snap in front of her. I should never snap in front of her. My fist shakes as I stare at it. It’s fine, but the dresser isn’t so lucky.

She glares at me. “Instead of punching holes in my furniture, answer my question. Where were you?”

“Gia’s place.”

“Why you? You always send another guard to hers.”

My eyes squint at one of the dresser drawers that has fallen open. “After what the detective told the press, I didn’t want to take any chances, so I sent Marcus to Abel’s and went to Gia’s myself.” I glance back at her. “Guess what I’ve found there.”

Surprise etches on her face. But nothing I found in the assistant’s apartment can be as surprising as what’s nestled in that drawer.

Blake Abel’s gun.