Chapter Twenty-Two
Voorhees
I’ve dreamt about Poppy more times than I can count. Ever since I saw that girl on the road, the one who ran the second she saw me after calling out her name, I can’t shake these stupid thoughts about her.
She’s slowly killing herself.
Whatever drugs she’s taking, they’ve changed her. She’s no longer the bright-eyed, mousy bookworm of my dreams. She’s hollow and frail, a mere shell of the woman who I grew up chasing.
It's why I've been out here every day looking for her, hoping that by some chance, I’ll run across her again. And the one other time that I did, it wasn’t pretty.
The last time I saw her she looked horrible. Nothing but skin and bones. I followed her after I saw her leaving one of the buildings owned by Moseley and forced her to talk to me.
What came after has haunted me since that day…
“Poppy!” I shouted after her.
Her pace increased, racing to get up the street before I could catch up to her. She had done that before, and managed to get away, but not this time. I won’t let her keep hiding from the world like she has.
“Poppy, stop!” I ordered, grabbing her by the hoodie and ripping her backwards.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” she screamed, whipping around to face me with bloodshot eyes that were way too sunken in, and a look so damn empty it was alarming. She stared at me like she had no clue who I was, and that scared the fuck out of me.
“Poppy, it’s me. It’s Wesley,” I shouted as her fists came down on me. Each hit lacked any kind of strength. Hell, I could feel her body beneath her hoodie. Every bone stuck out of her skin like she barely ate anything. She was so skinny. Too damn skinny.
“I know who you are,” she seethed. “Go away, Wesley, I don’t need your help.”
“Like hell you do. Have you looked in the mirror? What’s wrong with you? What kind of drugs are you doing now?”
Tears appeared in her eyes. “Any that will make the world fade away.”
“This isn’t you. You need help, Poppy.”
“I need help? Me! You’re the one who needs help, Wesley. Riding around with your club like ya’ll are invincible. Well, newsflash, buddy, you aren’t invincible. The Raging Misfits are coming back, and when they do, you and your club are going down!”
My heart sunk. “Is that what you want? For all the people who love and care about you to die?”
She froze in place, almost like she was warring with the voice in her head and the one that led her heart.
“Not that it matters to you, but I have plenty of people who care about me.” She showed off the tattoo on her arm. The brand they etched into her skin, making her Misfit property.
“And you’re proud of that? Poppy, they are dangerous!” I grabbed her arm, doing my best to hold her in place.
An evil smirk slid across her face as her voice eerily dropped into something menacingly evil. “I know.” Before I could stop her, she whipped out a knife and slashed at my arm, forcing me to drop my hold on her.
It caught me off guard.
I lunged to grab the knife, but she swung at me again, this time ripping my shirt.
“Stay the fuck away from me, Wesley.” This wasn’t the Poppy I knew from high school. Hell, this wasn’t the Poppy that hated me for most of my life. This Poppy was dead inside, void of emotion and everything good that she used to be.
She started to step backward.
“Poppy, just talk to me. I can help you…”
She frowned, slowly backing away with her knife drawn. “Nobody can help me, Wesley. Just forget you ever knew me. It’s the only thing that’s going to keep you alive.”
Then she was gone, disappearing around a building before I had a chance to chase after her.
It was my first real experience with what this new life I’ve chosen can be. How it hardens someone and changes them into something cold and empty.
It took me a while to settle into the club.
I didn’t necessarily feel like I belonged, even with Rich and Eddie backing me.
The club members who earned their place and their rockers stared at mine like it was fake and held on by silly string and Elmer’s glue.
To them, I didn’t earn my place. And they were right.
I wasn’t there when they had it out with Moseley and the Raging Misfits.
I wasn’t there to form the club, the rules, or the members.
I was in prison. Locked away from the world with only a pen and a pad of paper, and the memories of a girl who kept me sane behind the scenes.
It’s why I’m still looking for her. I can’t just turn my back on her like everyone else.
The sun hits my back, the leather heating up in the unforgiving Nevada sun.
Every day since the last time I’ve seen her, I ride out to this same spot, sit on my bike, and hope she shows up again.
I haven’t had any luck. Maybe I scared her off the last time, but I have to try.
I have to reach her even if she doesn’t want me to.
Drac and Krampus have no idea where I go every day, but they don’t really ask questions either. Neither of them knows about the last time I saw Poppy because I know they’ll try to talk me out of chasing her.
But I have to try.
I’m the only person who still fucking cares about her, even if she doesn’t see it.
A familiar black hoodie appears from out of a dark alley way, followed by a man I don’t quite recognize. He grabs her by the shirt, and whips her around, smacking her across the face violently.
“Listen here, you little bitch. Tell your fucking supplier to give me the good stuff next time, or so help me…” Before he can get out another word, my hands are on him, throwing him against the wall of a building so hard his big dumb head hits the brick with a hollow thud.
“What the fuck, man?” the guy yells, eyes misted with that familiar glaze of inebriation. “This doesn’t concern you. This is between me and the bitch.”
My forearm rests against his throat and presses deeper, cutting off his airway. “Everything about her is my concern, asshole.”
His glare slices through me.
“Fuck off.”
“Touch her again like that, and I’ll blow your fucking head off.” My gun touches his temple, making his eyes go wide.
“Wesley, stop. I got this.” She tries to pull my arm off him but can’t budge it. “Please,” she begs. “You’re causing more trouble than you understand.”
Her tone is full of fear, and reluctantly I release him, watching the fear fill his eyes when he realizes my finger’s on the trigger.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I bark, giving the man seconds to flee. He rushes off like a pussy, barely glancing back as he turns the corner up the street.
“What the fuck was that?” she screeches, pummeling my back with angry fists. “Are you trying to get me killed?”
Without warning, I spin, grabbing her flailing arms with my hands, forcing her to look into my eyes.
“I was just protecting you.”
She calms for half a second before her brow scrunches. “I don’t need you to protect me, Wesley. I just need you to forget I exist.”
Before she can protest, I pick her up by the waist, forcing her back into the alley she just came out of. If we’re going to have this conversation, we’re going to have it some place out of the view of others.
“Don’t you get it,” I yell, my voice coming out breathy and a little distraught. “Your existence is the only reason I’m still here.”
She stills, no longer fighting me.
“I don’t get you,” she finally says, voice more broken than she would like to let on. “I fight you every chance I get. I insult you. I cut your arm the last time we saw each other, and you still look at me like I’m the only thing that matters to you.”
“Because you are.”
She rips her hands out of my grasp, rubbing at her wrists that are now an angry red. I didn’t realize I was holding her that tightly, and it makes me feel like shit that I hurt her. Not that it’s hard. The girl’s nothing but skin, bones, and the markings of someone fighting addiction.
“Wesley, you gotta let me go. If you get too close to me, they’ll kill you.”
I rip her sleeve up, revealing the brand on her skin.
“Who? Them?” Fuck them, Poppy. They’re the ones that are keeping you in this place of self-destruction.
They don’t give two fucks about you. Not like I do.
You can hate me all you want, and fight me tooth and nail, but there’s nothing you can do to keep me away from you. ”
My body moves forward, pushing a strand of hair away from her eyes, pinning her so her back is flush against the wall, and she’s boxed into my arms. “You’re going to have to kill me to keep me away.”
She pushes against me, desperate for space I’m unwilling to give her. “If you keep chasing me, they will kill you.”
“Let them come.”
“I’m serious, Wesley. They don’t give two shits who you are. If you stand in their way, they will end you.”
She lets out a frustrated breath just as my hand starts tracing her skin, trying to imagine what it was like before it was marred with pick pox and track marks.
“Don’t,” she warns, though her eyes beg me for more.
“Don’t what?”
“Make me fall for you again.”
The word catches me off guard. “Again?”
She ducks beneath my arm, tears forming in her eyes that refuse to shed.
“Just forget about it,” she whispers, seconds away from bolting.
This time I don’t let her. I grab her hand, forcing her to look up, her vulnerability alarming.
“No, Poppy, not this time. What do you mean by again?”
“Prom,” she whispers, the words detonating my heartbeats.
“When you took me home and kissed me.” Her voice shakes with conviction.
“When you left and never looked back.” She hugs herself.
“For a second… a moment… I actually thought…” She stutters out the words, a single tear slipping down her cheek with slow precision. “I actually thought you cared.”
“I do care, Poppy. Haven’t I shown you that yet? No matter what you do or say, I’ll always be here for you.”