The Beginning of Connie and Isaac: Blue Butterfly Series (The Blue Butterfly Book 3) by D. H. Sidebottom
Authors: D. H. Sidebottom
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imprisoning it. I had killed my own mother. I had killed my mother.
A visceral scream broke from me as I sagged in Gregory and Jacob’s hold, their hands the only thing keeping me upright as they pulled me through the mansion. People stopped and watched us, some pitying, some appalled. My own corruption blinded me, the smothering reality of my mistake fracturing my sanity until nothing but bleakness tinted my vision.
Why was life so cruel? What had I done to warrant such a sickening existence? I’d followed fate’s orders, accepted what it had given me, but time and time again it had proved cruel and persecuting.
I had orphaned my sister. My actions had left Mae alone.
I didn’t even recognise that I had been stripped and tied to the cross. My sanity had left me; I was numb and broken. My body became an open invitation for the many Phantoms to act out their sick desires on but I didn’t care. What they did to me I still cannot remember to this very day. My mind left me for so long that when Bullet and Rogue gently lifted me down five days later, I didn’t know who I was.
Nothing of Connie Swift remained; her skeleton housed Shadow’s emotions and thoughts. My body was more than just damaged and abused in those long and lonely days; my spirit was destroyed beyond any hope of repair.
I would never be the same again. It didn’t matter what happened next because I didn’t care. I wanted to die. I wanted the heavens to accept me but I knew God would never accommodate my sins. And if it wasn’t for Frederik’s promise to take Mae in lieu of my death then I would have taken a knife to my heart long before my soul froze with hatred.
I never saw Isaac after that day. He had been sent away by his father for his part in my parents’ death, and I realised when Frederik’s cruel words taunted me, that mine and Isaac’s closeness had deepened his hatred for Isaac. It hadn’t been Isaac’s fault. I was to blame for it all, but Frederik wouldn’t accept my apology. He wanted to make an example out of both of us, and he did so every day in Isaac’s absence until nothing he did surprised me anymore. Pain became welcome because it was the only thing I actually felt. My skin bore the story of my life, the many scars and traumas the only proof that I lived; everything on the inside was dead and empty. The flowing of my blood was the only escape for all the abhorrence I stored up, yet simultaneously the brutal force of my hatred was the only thing that made my heart beat.
By the time Isaac returned two years later, I was such a different girl. The Phantoms had finally managed to do what they set out to… destroy Connie Swift and replace her with a cold, merciless killer.
November 2007. Aged 16.
GUY RIVERS LOOKED like Ian Somerhalder and had the personality of a llama with a belly ache. He was the proprietor of Rivers Casinos, a chain of entertainment clubs across Europe. He also, as I’d found out over the previous four hours, liked the sound of his own voice and had a nervous habit of scraping back his inky black hair from his oddly large forehead. Sweat beaded his brow whenever he got animated in his story telling, and I noticed the more gin he drank, the more redder his lips became.
“…And I said to Brian, ‘When you have as much money as I have, you can smile at yourself like I do every morning.’”
I forced a smile and fluttered my lashes. “And do you?” I was bored and needed to get the egotistical prick into his hotel room.
He peered at me like I’d just spewed random French at him. “Do I what?”
Cocking my head a touch to the side, I ran my tongue across my lips. He swallowed heavily when, gently, I sank my teeth into my lower lip. “Have lots of money?”
His chest puffed out and I only just managed to hold back a roll of my eyes. “I have a filthy amount, Rhianna.”
Bringing my wine glass to my mouth, I blinked slowly and gazed at him. “Do you know how wet that makes me?”
A
A visceral scream broke from me as I sagged in Gregory and Jacob’s hold, their hands the only thing keeping me upright as they pulled me through the mansion. People stopped and watched us, some pitying, some appalled. My own corruption blinded me, the smothering reality of my mistake fracturing my sanity until nothing but bleakness tinted my vision.
Why was life so cruel? What had I done to warrant such a sickening existence? I’d followed fate’s orders, accepted what it had given me, but time and time again it had proved cruel and persecuting.
I had orphaned my sister. My actions had left Mae alone.
I didn’t even recognise that I had been stripped and tied to the cross. My sanity had left me; I was numb and broken. My body became an open invitation for the many Phantoms to act out their sick desires on but I didn’t care. What they did to me I still cannot remember to this very day. My mind left me for so long that when Bullet and Rogue gently lifted me down five days later, I didn’t know who I was.
Nothing of Connie Swift remained; her skeleton housed Shadow’s emotions and thoughts. My body was more than just damaged and abused in those long and lonely days; my spirit was destroyed beyond any hope of repair.
I would never be the same again. It didn’t matter what happened next because I didn’t care. I wanted to die. I wanted the heavens to accept me but I knew God would never accommodate my sins. And if it wasn’t for Frederik’s promise to take Mae in lieu of my death then I would have taken a knife to my heart long before my soul froze with hatred.
I never saw Isaac after that day. He had been sent away by his father for his part in my parents’ death, and I realised when Frederik’s cruel words taunted me, that mine and Isaac’s closeness had deepened his hatred for Isaac. It hadn’t been Isaac’s fault. I was to blame for it all, but Frederik wouldn’t accept my apology. He wanted to make an example out of both of us, and he did so every day in Isaac’s absence until nothing he did surprised me anymore. Pain became welcome because it was the only thing I actually felt. My skin bore the story of my life, the many scars and traumas the only proof that I lived; everything on the inside was dead and empty. The flowing of my blood was the only escape for all the abhorrence I stored up, yet simultaneously the brutal force of my hatred was the only thing that made my heart beat.
By the time Isaac returned two years later, I was such a different girl. The Phantoms had finally managed to do what they set out to… destroy Connie Swift and replace her with a cold, merciless killer.
November 2007. Aged 16.
GUY RIVERS LOOKED like Ian Somerhalder and had the personality of a llama with a belly ache. He was the proprietor of Rivers Casinos, a chain of entertainment clubs across Europe. He also, as I’d found out over the previous four hours, liked the sound of his own voice and had a nervous habit of scraping back his inky black hair from his oddly large forehead. Sweat beaded his brow whenever he got animated in his story telling, and I noticed the more gin he drank, the more redder his lips became.
“…And I said to Brian, ‘When you have as much money as I have, you can smile at yourself like I do every morning.’”
I forced a smile and fluttered my lashes. “And do you?” I was bored and needed to get the egotistical prick into his hotel room.
He peered at me like I’d just spewed random French at him. “Do I what?”
Cocking my head a touch to the side, I ran my tongue across my lips. He swallowed heavily when, gently, I sank my teeth into my lower lip. “Have lots of money?”
His chest puffed out and I only just managed to hold back a roll of my eyes. “I have a filthy amount, Rhianna.”
Bringing my wine glass to my mouth, I blinked slowly and gazed at him. “Do you know how wet that makes me?”
A
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