Butterflies Volume II

Chapter 39

Billy sat in the park with Joe Kessler, hearing him out. He had given in after Kessler had burned down his phone, questioning whether he could really just go back to taking orders after what had happened. He was using Firecracker, he was using Ezekiel's death, not knowing that it was him who had killed him. The news blamed Violet, the carnage only possible by her hand. But surely Kessler would have more thought not to blame her, more reason. Whatever argument they did have, whatever did fully transpire between them, severed any hope of them working together.

Which meant naturally, Violet refused to join him. She made a good point as to why they shouldn't even hear him out, but Billy made a joke about how similar he was to how he was in the beginning, and Violet went quiet. He hadn't meant to install any sort of insecurity, he had rather wanted to stress that he was his good mate, and to give him a chance. But part of him did want to drop him completely, and part of him wanted to march to the newsstands and proclaim himself as the rightful murderer of Ezekiel so they would get off her back.

"Fuck this cloke and dagger bullshit," Billy complained looking through a file Kessler had given him, "I'm freezing here."

The trees around them stood bare, protruding sharply matching both of their rough exteriors. Billy hated fingerless gloves, but if he even wanted to attempt to use his phone he had to wear them. What pointless articles of clothing, they barely kept him warm.

"Well I mean, I was thinking we could meet in your mom's pussy, but you know, I wanted someplace more private," Kessler sarcastically said back.

He smirked, "so, what you thinking?"

"Butcher, listen. How about we do this job, just you and me?"

Billy rolled his eyes. It was off the table, either he sucked it up and respected Violet or nothing. He wasn't interested in anything that didn't involve her, it would be believing the sun was unnecessary. He needed the sun just as much as anyone.

"After what you said to my girl?"

He shook his head, but there became a smile on his face, as though it was a joke. Billy glanced his way, frowning as he discounted him, like Billy was being silly.

"Billy..." He tutted, "your 'girl' is one of them. And yeah you share the same goal but she will toss you aside to get what she wants no question."

"You don't know shit about her," Billy turned to a glare.

"Fuck she really does have you whipped. She's your blind spot. And don't get me started on your team."

Billy scoffed, facing ahead. She wasn't a blind spot, if anything she was the brightest light he was bouncing around frantically. She was everything, everything that gave him purpose. Without her he wasn't sure he'd even be bothering with any plans, or anything for that matter. He would have stopped taking his medication and allowed himself to die sooner. And maybe Ryan might have been enough to keep him going, but not for long. Not without her. Kessler was doing a grand job at trying to reduce her to just a woman, just a partner, but everything they had gone through. She was more than that.

"Don't fucking waste my time mate," he said, standing up ready to leave.

"Well, I don't get you. I don't," Kessler replied, "half your brain is a fucking tumour. This is your last shot at Homelander and you decide to go soft? For her?"

He stood up, crossing into his path before he could walk away. Billy was already halfway to tossing him to the curb like Violet suggested in the beginning, but he still prodded. He twisted in the knife, letting it all seep out and poison him, bleeding from his flesh right into Kessler's begging hand. He knew how to drive his way into his head.