Butterfly Kisses (Blossoming Beginnings #4)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Sawyer

I believe that there are moments in our lives that define who we are. Who we choose to become.

Sometimes they’re big moments. Like when my father died or the first time my mother used drugs. Other times they’re small and insignificant at the time, but certainly not in the long run.

They can be good or bad. They can lead you to everything you want in life or maybe destroy everything that you’ve built.

These moments are different for everyone, but for me, there’s always been one constant that ties them together—they happen when I least expect it.

I’m sitting at the small kitchen table, a mug full of coffee in my hand, when my older brother slams open the door to the single-wide trailer that I’ve called home for as long as I can remember.

“Sawyer!” he yells, his voice reverberating off of the walls of the small space.

“I’m literally right here, Brent.” I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to yell.”

“Oh,” he says, closing the door behind him and moving to lean against the counter.

I take a deep breath before setting down my coffee and turning to face him, preparing myself.

My brother and I have never had the best relationship. To put it in simple terms, he’s an asshole, and well, I don’t tend to like assholes.

Brent is four years older than me, and when I was really young, he wasn’t a bad brother. He actually took care of me more than my mom ever did after my dad died.

But then we got older, and things changed.

Brent started hanging out with the wrong crowd of people, and before I knew it, he’d turned into someone I don’t recognize anymore. My brother was gone, and I had to face the fact that he was never coming back.

He hasn’t officially lived with me and my mom for a few years now. I’m not sure where he does live, but when it comes to my brother, the fewer questions asked, the better.

Although, living here or not, he still comes around way more than I’d like. And every time he does, there are strings attached.

“What do you want, Brent?” I finally ask, skipping the formalities.

“Money.” He shrugs, unashamed.

I close my eyes for a second, willing myself to stay calm. Of course, it’s money. What else would he want?

What else would anyone want from me?

I sigh. “I don’t have any money to give you,” I tell him, which isn’t a complete lie.

I learned how to save money from a young age because I had to. I’ve basically been supporting myself and my mom since I was barely a teenager.

When she got drunk or high at work and lost her job, I’d pay the bills. When she spent her last paycheck buying drugs instead of food, I was the one who went grocery shopping.

I love my mom, and I know she loves me too. She just loves drugs more. I wish I could hate her for it, but I can’t. It’s not her fault, it’s a disease. One that I know she’ll never get help for.

When my dad died, my mom broke. She turned to alcohol to numb the pain, and when that wasn’t strong enough anymore, she went for drugs, and she hasn’t stopped since.

I wished so many times over the years for it to be different, but it never was. It never will be. So, I’ve learned to live with it. I support her the best I can while still trying to prioritize myself.

But my brother isn’t an addict. He’s the man who sells drugs to addicts.

So, yeah, I may have money saved. But I promised myself a long time ago that he’ll never see a cent of it.

“Stop being a bitch, Sawyer.” He huffs. “I know you have savings. I need five thousand by the end of the week.”

“Only five thousand?” I raise a brow at him, a hollow laugh falling from my lips.

“It’s not a question. I need it,” he says, anger lacing his tone.

I ignore him, picking up my mug and bringing it to my lips. I sip the hot coffee, hoping Brent will get the message that I’m not giving him anything and leave. Or maybe for the caffeine to give me the strength and energy to deal with him if he refuses to.

“Where’s Mom?” he asks, his annoyance clear at my lack of a response.

“Sleeping, I think,” I mumble, continuing to drink my coffee.

He walks past me toward my mom’s room on the far end of the trailer. I watch him slam the door open without knocking, and I hear her startled gasp.

“Get up and get out here. We need to talk,” he says, turning around and walking back toward me, trusting she’ll be right behind him.

My mom follows him out of her room a minute later.

She’s a shell of the person she used to be. Her once vibrant copper hair is now dull and matted like it hasn’t been brushed in years. Her green eyes are overshadowed by the large bags underneath them. Frown lines are now permanently etched into her face, the last time she smiled was a distant memory.

I once found pictures of her in high school while digging around the trailer for any spare cash I could find for the bills. She used to run track. She was strong, athletic. Now, she’s frail. Basically just skin and bones, almost to the point that if you push her, she might just break.

She stops at the edge of the kitchen, fidgeting nervously as she looks between us, her two children, whom she stopped parenting a long time ago.

“Well, family,” Brent says, the word family coming out as though it’s a joke. “It seems we have an issue.”

“Oh, and what would that be?” I ask. “Because from what you’ve said since you showed up here a few minutes ago, it seems the only one with an issue is you.” I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Oh, little sister, how wrong you are.” He laughs mockingly, and I feel something twist inside my stomach.

“Spit it out,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Well, about a month ago, I sold some oxy to mommy dearest and?—”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Brent?” I slam the mug down onto the table, some of the hot liquid splashing onto my hand. “Fuck,” I say, shaking it off. “Why the hell would you sell to her?”

I look over to my mom, but she refuses to meet my eyes. Her head’s down, and her arms are crossed as though she’s trying to protect herself. I know she’ll be no help here.

“Calm down, Sawyer.” Brent rolls his eyes. “You know she’s gonna buy from someone, why shouldn’t it be me?” he asks.

“Because you know she doesn’t have the money to pay for it, dumbass.” I shake my head. “Look, I don’t have five thousand dollars.”

“Well, you better find some way to get it because I owe Jasper the money by Friday.” He crosses his arms over his chest, seeming unfazed.

Jasper being the dick who my brother technically works for. He’s been selling drugs in our neighborhood for the better part of the last decade. Aside from his few stints in prison.

My brother became friends with Jasper back in high school and has followed him around like a lost puppy dog ever since. And although I’m not scared of my brother, I can’t lie and say that Jasper doesn’t make me uneasy.

Regardless…

“That’s not my problem.” I huff. “You were the idiot who sold to someone you knew didn’t have the money. You got yourself into this mess, figure out a way to get yourself out of it.”

“Oh, there’s another way,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “But I don’t think you’ll like that option, little sister.” He smirks tauntingly at me.

“Fuck off, Brent. Leave me out of your mess.” I stand from the table, intending to walk away from him, but he moves quickly, stepping in front of me and blocking me in.

“When did you become such a stupid bitch?” He takes a step closer, and I take one step back, my back pressing against the small kitchen table.

“When did you become such a piece of shit?” I raise a brow at him, refusing to let him intimidate me.

His face turns red in anger, and I swear I can hear him grind his teeth in the otherwise silent room.

“Listen very closely to your options,” he seethes. “You or Mom better find a way to get me that money by Friday.”

“Not gonna happen.” I roll my eyes.

The fact that he came directly to me to ask already shows that he knows there’s no way in hell my mom has that type of money or that she could get it. And I’m certainly not giving it to him.

“Then you’ll come work for Jasper until you pay off Mom’s debt.” He raises a brow at me.

“I’m not selling drugs for you, Jasper, or anyone else,” I say in disgust.

“Who said anything about selling drugs?” Brent tilts his head, a sleazy smile on his face.

I stay silent, a heavy weight settling into my stomach.

“Jasper has lots of friends who wouldn’t mind paying good money to be shown a good time. Clearly, she can’t do it.” He nods toward our mom. “But you’ll do.”

“If you think I’d have sex with people for money, then you’re even more delusional than I thought,” I say, my voice firm.

“It’s not an option, Sawyer. You either find another way to get me the money or you do it my way,” he says. “Either way, I’m not going down for her.” He juts his chin out toward our mom.

I look at her too, and this time she looks up. But she’s not really there. Her pupils are dilated, and she has a faraway look in her eyes like she’s hearing everything but doesn’t have it in her to care.

She’s high.

“I’m gonna tell you one more time, Brent, because you don’t seem to be comprehending.” I tear my gaze away from my mom to look him directly in the eyes. “I will not have sex with anyone. I will not give you a single cent of my money. And I absolutely will not help you out of this mess or any other one you get yourself into.” I force a sugary, sweet smile onto my face.

“You—”

I cut him off by lifting my knee and slamming it directly in between his legs. He cries out, falling to the floor in pain, and I don’t waste a second, pushing past him, grabbing my Converse from next to the door, and rushing out of the trailer.

I don’t look back, running out of the trailer in nothing but pajama shorts and a T-shirt, barefoot, and holding my sneakers in my hand. I run for a few minutes until I feel far enough away to stop, then I slip the Converse over my now dirty feet.

I walk down to the abandoned train tracks, which are about a twenty-minute walk from the trailer park, and spend the day there, hiding out, listening to music, thinking, and occasionally watching trains go by until my phone dies and the sun starts to set.

I wish I could say that I’m surprised by my situation, but I’m not. It’s not the first time I’ve been here. My mother has owed money to a drug dealer before. But it is the first time that the dealer is my brother.

The thing about my mom is that she’s a functioning drug addict. She works, and a lot of the time she’ll find a way to pay her own debts. Yes, I’ve had to bail her out before, but a few hundred bucks isn’t five thousand.

Any idiot who knows my mother knows not to sell her that amount of drugs because she can’t pay for it. Plus, what kind of idiot dealer doesn’t take the money before giving her the drugs?

My brother, I guess.

My brother offering me up for prostitution to pay off her debt, though…well, that’s a new one. And by far the worst one that I’ve ever had to deal with.

Normally, I’d brush his words off. This is his issue, not mine. He can’t force me to do anything. Like I said before, my brother doesn’t scare me.

But Jasper does.

And if my brother doesn’t get the money and he manages to drag me into this by bringing up his plan to Jasper, which I wouldn’t put past him, then I don’t know what I’ll do.

I stop at a fast-food restaurant, using the twenty-dollar bill I had shoved in my phone case to grab a burger and fries, eating them as I make my way home. I walk around the back of the trailer park, peeking through the windows of my trailer to make sure my brother isn’t around before going inside.

I close the door behind me and look up to see my mom sitting on the couch. She lifts her eyes from her phone, her gaze meeting mine.

“Sawyer…” My name is barely a whisper on her lips.

“What, Mom?” I sigh, exhausted from life. “What do you have to say?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Her eyes well with tears. “I never meant for you to be put in the middle of my mess.”

“But it seems I always end up here anyway, doesn’t it?” I scoff.

“I’ll figure this out. You don’t have to worry about it, okay? I’ll get the money,” she says, the words sounding like a lie as they leave her lips.

“Yeah, okay, Mom.” I nod, not bothering to argue with her. I turn to walk away from her.

“I love you, Sawyer,” she calls after me, and I turn around to see a small smile on her face, as if everything isn’t a total mess right now.

“I love you too, Mom.” I force a smile back at her before walking into my room, closing the door behind me.

I collapse on top of the small bed that barely fits in the even smaller room. I reach over, plugging my phone into the charger before turning onto my back, staring up at the ceiling.

A million thoughts plague my mind of how I ended up here.

Where do I go from here?

I could stay, I could figure it out, find a way to help my mom and avoid angering my brother. Or I could leave.

I’ve thought about leaving before. In fact, I think about it every day. But I guess the fear of where I would end up has always scared me away from the decision.

But for the first time, where I might end up if I stay, who I might be forced to become, seems like the scarier option.

I lay in bed contemplating my options for hours. I make a list of pros and cons in my head. I think of the worst that can happen in every scenario. I think of it all.

Then, around four a.m., when I’m sure everyone is asleep, I slip out of bed and quietly start packing. I put anything important I need inside my backpack, and I shove everything else I need inside a large duffel bag.

Once I’m done, I tiptoe out of my room, grab a piece of paper, and write out a note for my mom, although there’s not much to say.

Mom,

I have to go. I’m sorry. I love you.

Sawyer

I set it on the table, my other hand gripping the small butterfly necklace around my neck that reminds me of a better time. I squeeze it for a second, wishing for it to give me some sort of comfort, and then I let go, the metal falling back into place on my neck.

I take a final look at the trailer that’s always been my home, and I walk away.

I gently close the door behind me, and after making sure there’s no one around, I walk the two miles to the bus stop. I feel the tension lift from my shoulder with every step I take, and as I step up to the counter to buy my ticket, it hits me.

This is another defining moment in my life.

And yeah, I’ve had a lot of them. Big and small. Good and bad. But this one feels different.

Because with every defining moment, no matter what, I’ve always chosen to stay.

Until now.