Epilogue
Poppy
A door slams.
Illegible swearing follows, before the sound of glass shattering erupts downstairs.
I lose count after the fourth item hits the wall, imagining the pointed pieces littering the cold linoleum floor in jagged mayhem.
The steady rhythm of my heartbeat increases to adrenaline and terror as his footsteps reach the bottom of the stairwell and angrily ascend toward the room we share, each one heavier than the first.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Now we’re in total sync, my erratic heartbeat mirroring his steps of rage. It’s a chaotic pairing that has me cowering in the corner, looking for every shadow to conceal me, though none of them do. I’m vulnerable. Weak. No match for the foe I created on the other side of the door.
He tries the lock slowly at first, then jerks it violently as he pounds on the wooden blockade separating us with murderous intent.
“Open the fucking door, woman.”
When I don’t answer, he rams it with his body, causing me to scream.
One hit.
Two hits.
Then the door splinters open, the flimsy lock no match for the massive man huffing and puffing in the hallway.
“You stupid fucking bitch!” His voice is like ice picks and razors, grating through me like he’s already carving me into pieces. “Did you think you could betray me and get away with it?”
He marches across the room in two strides, fist already at my scalp, yanking me to my feet.
“I fucking picked you up out of the gutter and made you into the woman you are today. Now look at you! There are track marks running up and down your arms, and a stupid look of betrayal rushing to your eyes. You know what you did, and now you have to pay for it!”
His hand snaps across my cheek, ring cutting through me like a blade. Warm blood creeps down my skin, as he strikes me again, this time across the mouth.
“Tell me why you did it!” he screams. “Why did you betray us?”
“I—I—”
Another smack, this time for taking too long.
But I couldn’t let them die. Not like that. It doesn’t matter that I sold my soul to the devil. A part of me will always be there for them no matter what happened between us in the past. I had to warn them. I had to warn him…
“Stupid girl!” he growls, forcing me to my knees, enjoying the sheer look of terror that plagues every part of me.
“You stupid worthless cow! You’ve embarrassed me in front of everyone, and now they want your blood. Do you know what that means?”
I know exactly what it means. It’s the fate I’ve been begging for since the day my sister died, when a part of my soul ruptured and never fully healed.
“Fuck it! I might as well get my lot out of you before I end your pathetic life.”
His hand keeps me in place as his other fumbles with his zipper and top button.
“Be a good girl and help Daddy.”
Daddy.
I hated the word and all of its fucking meanings.
The Daddy who helped create my DNA was a pompous asshole who wrote me out of his will the second I spiraled.
Now he doesn’t even acknowledge he had two daughters, just one.
Just Pippa. Not me. Not the girl who was bound for Ivy league schools and had dreams of being a lawyer someday.
The one that ended up in the gutter after her twin killed herself and her best friend moved out of the country without a second thought. Now I’m just nothing.
Nothing but Arturo’s little pet, a sad little waif for him to use and abuse whenever he sees fit.
My hands fumble with his jeans then gently slide them down his legs, bracing myself for his wrath.
That’s when the numbness takes over. The dark place my head shifts into every time this has happened before. I don’t feel the angry thrusts or the violent slurs that leave his lips.
I just take it.
Block it out.
Be a good girl.
But nothing will change what I did.
I not only betrayed Arturo, but I betrayed his whole club… and now they want me dead.
Well, good riddance. I’ve been nothing more than a blip in this world since Pippa passed away, and I’m tired of running from my grief like it’s not the poison slowly killing me.
He flips me on my stomach, arms pinned behind my back as he takes me violently from behind. If there’s pain, I don’t feel it. Not his fingers that curl around my throat and pierce my windpipe. Not the furious fists that batter and bruise my body between his vicious, punishing thrusts.
I’m just numb.
Ready to let the Reaper take me and save me from this miserable existence.
My vision starts to spot and blur, his grip on my throat strengthening.
At one point, I gasp for breaths I can’t even hear, every sound dulled as I lay on the sword that’s edging down my spine.
“You’re going to pay for betraying us,” he whispers into my ear, the heat of his breath hitting me like thorns instead of roses. “I could’ve loved you,” he reminds me. “I could’ve healed your broken heart. But instead, you betrayed me!”
His voice is hollow and faint, almost as if it’s coming from the other side of the world, instead of from right behind me.
“Your death will haunt me for centuries,” he breathes against my ear just as the world fades into internal darkness.
Frigid water engulfs me as my body is flung over the side of a boat and into the cold murky waters of Pyramid Lake, my body sinking into the forgotten graveyard below. It isn’t until I feel the water seeping into my lungs that my eyes pop open and the fight in me breaks loose.
The bastard had strangled me to the point of unconsciousness but didn’t finish me off.
That was his first mistake.
The second was not bounding my hands or checking my pockets.
Within seconds, the knife I was hiding in my jeans is biting through the thick rope, severing it string by string until my foot is finally released and I break free.
Above me, I can vaguely see the boat fleeing the scene, the wake of its treachery fading into the distance.
They don’t see me breaking the surface, or the desperate strokes I make to get to the closest shore.
Once there, I collapse, exhaustion replacing adrenaline, my breaths barely hanging on.
I know I can’t stay here, for fear they’ll see me alive, so I break into a chaotic sprint, tripping over logs and branches until I make it to a camp nearby.
The four girls there stare at me with wide eyes, taking in my drizzled appearance and the markings around my throat.
“Help!” I whisper, dropping to my knees in front of their fire, my bones chattering beneath my skin as I desperately try to ward off the hypothermia sinking in.
“Oh my goodness!” one of them cries, immediately covering me with a blanket. “Girl, what on earth happened to you?”
“He—” There’s a shaky pause, a stuttering breath, and moments of shame as I stare at their frightened faces, not knowing who I can trust.
“I need to get to Fernley.”
“Girl, you need to get to a hospital and to talk to the police!” a girl with long braids and a magnetic smile says, pressuring me toward the car.
“No!” I scream. “No cops. They can’t be involved. They’ll kill me if I get anyone involved.”
“Who will kill you?” another girl questions, this one with fiery red hair with orange highlights and way too many piercings.
“My ex… his club… the Italian Mob.”
A girl with spectacles, pushes them up her nose and slightly turns her head to look at me. “Guys, this seems like a trick.”
They nod their heads in agreement.
“Yeah, I’m not sure about this,” a blonde one agrees, suddenly hugging herself.
“Then if you won’t take me. Can I borrow your phone?”
The girl with the braids hands me her phone, all shakes and nerves. “H—Here. Just don’t steal it.”
It’s crazy that I have his number memorized. I hate him. I hate everything about him, but he’s the only person I can trust to keep me safe.
It rings twice before he answers.
“This better be fucking good,” he grumbles, his voice sleepy and grumpy at the same time.
“We—Wesley,” I whisper, barely able to get his name out before second guessing it.
“Yeah, who wants to know?”
“I need help,” I whisper, still unsure why I’m turning to him of all people.
“Who is this?” he asks, the bed creaking in the background behind him.
When I don’t immediately answer, my name leaves his lips in stammers. “Poppy? Poppy is that you?”
“Y—Yes,” I admit, though it breaks everything inside of me to do so. “I need you, Wesley. I need you to protect me.”
“Poppy, what the hell is going on?”
“Please,” I beg. “Just come get me. I know I’ve betrayed you in the past, but you’re the only person I can trust right now. If you don’t help me, they’ll kill me, this time for real.”
“Poppy, where are you?”
“Pyramid Lake.”
He growls in frustration. “Say no more. I’m on my way.”
“Hurry, Wesley. I don’t know how much more time I got.”
Then the phone clicks off, ending the call abruptly.
He didn’t even ask me where I am or say where I should meet him. He didn’t have to. Wesley always knows where to find me.
It’s one of the many reasons I’ve grown to hate him over the years.
He’s the devoted knight I’ve never wanted.