Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Eddie looks immediately wounded. “Poppy, I—”
Cutting him off, I continue, “Moseley didn’t even have to pay me for this one.
” The joy in my voice is fucking contagious.
“The money was nice, but I did this one out of the spitefulness of my own cold heart.” My eyes narrow even further in on Eddie.
“Have you gotten the message yet, Eddie? You lost. There’s nothing left for you here.
So, do us all a favor and get the fuck out of Fernley. ”
“What happened to you?” Wesley whispers, the look of worship still lingering. I hate that look. It’s like I can do no wrong in his eyes. I just tried to burn their clubhouse down, and he’s still acting like he can save me.
“Life fucked me in the ass and now I’m repaying the favor, making sure my enemies feel the pain they’ve left me with.
” My hands fit around his gun again, my desperation only increasing.
If I don’t do this right, the Misfits will fucking kill me before he has a chance.
I’d rather go at the hands of someone who gives a fuck about me than some fucking asshole who thinks he owns Fernley.
“So do it! Shoot me, asshole. End my miserable life before it gets worse.”
Wesley immediately tucks his gun into his pants, refusing to take me out.
“Come on!” I beg him. “Kill me! Do it before they do.”
“Poppy, what do you mean?” Rich questions, lowering his gun just a tad.
“Just kill me,” I urge again. “Please. If you don’t, they will.”
Before I can stop him, Wesley wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a hug that stirs some more of those unwanted feelings from earlier.
In his arms, I feel strangely safe, something I never feel with Arturo or the Misfits.
The only reason I am loyal to them at all is because they have what my body needs to survive.
But in Wesley’s arms, everything feels different.
Like I belong there. Like existing matters again.
It’s why I have to stop it from going any further. Teach him a lesson all of them will remember for the rest of their lives.
Without warning, a feral roar rips out of Wesley’s chest. He staggers backward, his face turning ashy white as he looks at the blood suddenly appearing on his T-shirt and the giant blade I stuck in his side.
Everything inside me shatters when a look of confusion floods his eyes, along with painful tears that make me second guess everything.
For a moment, I want to reach out and comfort him, but he’ll never accept it. Not now. Not after everything that’s happened today.
“Poppy?” he whispers, collapsing to his knees just as I take off through another loose fence board. Thank God, I don’t eat, because I wouldn’t have squeezed through it otherwise.
I don’t stop running until I get back to the Misfits clubhouse where everyone is waiting for my return. Arturo’s bike is parked in the parking lot, and I’m not sure if I should be happy or scared as fuck.
The last time we saw each other, it didn’t go too well. He almost killed me.
Everyone’s eyes are on me when I enter through the front doors, tracking all my movements as if they’re expecting me to run.
I won’t.
I came here for drugs, and that’s exactly what I plan on leaving with. After everything that happened tonight, I need that fix to get me by.
“Where’s Arturo?” I question Bars who’s stationed outside the doors leading to the bedrooms.
“In your bedroom.”
The room is completely dark when I enter, and I see the silhouette of someone sitting on the bed, waiting for me. But it’s not Arturo.
“Don’t turn on the light,” Warden warns.
“Where’s Arturo?” I whisper, looking around the room. The room is encased in dark shadows, but you can see the cold metal of his gun glinting off the moonlight filtering in from the window. It’s trained on me as he rises to his feet.
“Close the door.”
“I—I did what you asked. It’s not my fault that—”
“Shut the fuck up and close the fucking door.”
Reluctantly, I close the door behind me.
“Now lock it.”
“Warden, if Arturo finds out—”
He laughs. “Who do you think let me in here?”
My heart clenches.
“Get on your fucking knees.”
“Warden—”
The pistol whips against my face before I see him swing it. “Don’t test me, bitch.”
I sink to my knees, gasping in fright when his fingers dig into the back of my skull and rip my head back.
“The only reason you’re still around, is because of your connection with their club. You make them weaker. We realized that even more tonight.”
“You were watching me?”
He nods. “You think I’d let you go in there without having eyes on you.
” He spits in my face, the saliva sliding down my cheek.
“You disappoint me, Poppy. If you weren’t Arturo’s little side project, I’d fucking end you right now.
But for now, I’m going to let the bastard feel like he has the upper hand.
” The barrel of his gun slides down my front. “But who’s really in charge, Poppy?”
A whimper escapes me as he yanks my head back to look at him. “Y—You are,” I stutter out, unable to keep my tongue.
He smirks. “Damn right I am. So, I’m going to give you an ultimatum, Poppy. You can eat this bullet right now and do us all a favor by erasing your miserable existence from the planet. Or… you can suck on my cock and take your punishment like a good girl.”
“You’re not going to kill me?”
His lips pull evilly across his face. “Not today if you cooperate.”
His zipper drags down.
“What’s it going to be, Poppy? You wanna eat my bullet or choke on my cock?”
I blink away the tears threatening to fall, refusing to let him see me break. For a second, Wesley’s face and the look of betrayal in his eyes after I stabbed him, come rushing forward. The guilt is almost too much, and the words leave my lips before I can stop them.
“Just kill me.”
He laughs. “Thought you might choose that.” He clicks off the safety.
“And I would, if you weren’t a bargaining chip in this little game of poker I’m playing with their club.
” He momentarily drops his hold on my head and takes off his belt, wrapping it around my throat until its buckle is biting into my skin.
“That’s why I need you, Poppy. I can’t murder their club without you running interference for me. ”
My pulse quickens at the thought. As much as I hate Eddie and the shit that happened between him and Pippa, I don’t want him dead. I don’t want any of them dead… especially Wesley.
Warden holds his gun against my throat, his hand dancing down my front until it reaches the bottom of my hoodie.
“I’m going to teach you a little lesson about what happens when you disobey the club, Poppy.
” He rips off my hoodie, then tears my tank top off of me, exposing my breasts.
His hand violently starts to pull and tug at my nipples as his lips drag down my face.
When I try to pull back, he yanks me forward, the belt getting tighter.
“Good girls stay alive,” he whispers, his hand sliding down my front until it’s buried in my shorts. My moan betrays me as his fingers start to circle my clit. “Bad girls get bullets.” He licks my cheek. “So, what are you tonight, Poppy? A good girl or a bad girl?”
He lowers the gun just a tad, awaiting my answer.
“I guess I’m a little bit of both,” I answer truthfully.
The second my breasts meet Arturo’s mattress, I know I’m fucked. “Good… I can’t wait to figure out just how bad you can truly be.”
(Two Weeks Later)
Arturo glares at me from across the room, watching me dress with angry eyes. For the last few weeks, he’s barely said a word to me.
“What?” I growl, hating how he’s scrutinizing my every move.
His gaze flicks to the fresh hole in my arm, and I quickly cover it, trying my best to pretend like everything is okay.
“You’re still using?”
I nod, though he doesn’t deserve it. “And so what if I am?” I need the goddamn drugs to get me through this nightmare. Ever since the night of the fire, I’ve been a mess, doing my best to keep my head above water when it feels like my demons are slowly drowning me.
His brow scrunches in frustration. “Then you’re of no use to me anymore.”
“How can you be attracted to this?” I ask him, staring at my reflection that’s nothing but skin and bones. “You made me this way. You wanted me this skinny.”
He moves swiftly across the room, only stopping when I can feel his breath battling my cheeks for dominance. “Do you think I want a fucking drug addict on my arm?” he growls. “A fucking whore.”
“You gave him the okay!” I argue, hating how he keeps turning that night with Warden against me. “You let him in the room!”
“As a goddamn test! And you fucking failed!” His hand shoots out, curling around my throat with malicious conviction. “I’ve killed people for less, bitch.”
“Then kill me!” I challenge, calling him on his bluff. “Get it over with if that’s what you want.”
“What I want is a woman who obeys me.”
“And when have I not? I do everything you ask, Arturo. More if you need me to. I cook, I clean, I watch as you fuck your way through the women of his club. And not once have I complained, knowing I can’t because you haven’t even tried to claim me as yours.
At the end of the day, I’m still nothing more than a club whore, not until you brand me your Ol’ Lady. ”
He knows I’m right, but his grip still strengthens. My ability to breathe lessening. “Is that what you want? To be my Ol’ Lady?”
No. What I want is to get out of this place and be free of your torment.
But I don’t say it out loud. I’m nothing more than a prisoner to them, hiding out in Fallon with the rest of the club that fled here after Warden commanded it.
He wants Moseley to hang himself, and he can’t do that if the club is at his beck and call.
“I don’t know what I want anymore. I just want to die.”
He smirks. “You’d already be dead if this was my fucking call.”
“Isn’t it?” I question. “Aren’t you head of the club?”