I bristled. “It is.”
Poppy looked quickly to the ceiling before squeezing her eyes shut and turning her face out the window. She didn’t want the boy to see her emotions. Her strength for his sake was admirable.
“Give me your phone,” I pressed, holding out my hand.
“I don’t have one,” the boy promptly responded. “Mama says doom scrolling rots the brain. I can’t have one till I’m this big.”
He held up ten fingers and a foot.
I frowned at the blue sneaker with a cartoon dalmatian on it. Why did he do that?
“Is that necessary?” Poppy snapped. “Who am I going to call?”
“A woman such as yourself, properly motivated, would go to the ends of the earth. Forgive me, but I’m not in the mood for any surprises,” I said coolly.
Poppy reached into the back pocket of her jeans. Her fingers trembled as she handed over the device.
“The code is 7112,” the boy added helpfully.
Poppy swallowed hard.
“Thank you, son.”
“Welcome!” He didn’t respond to the endearment but continued to fly his toy through the air and make animal growls.
I didn’t like that. Didn’t like it one bit.
He didn’t recognize me.
If I wasn’t sleep deprived and coming down from an adrenaline high, logic might have told me it was natural he didn’t immediately know our connection.
But the delirious part of me wanted him to.
“Is there anyone from your old life who will look for you?” I demanded.
Poppy let out a scornful laugh. The pungent bitterness slapped me. “Of course, they’ll wonder where we are.”
“You need to message them that your plans have changed,” I warned. “We’ll do that later. Together.”
“Since they’re expecting me on the plane, why wait?” she countered.
Reluctantly, I handed back the phone. “No funny business.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She tapped on the screen, her fingers flying to communicate a message. Wisely, she held it up before pressing send.
To a man named Theo.
A knot tightened in my gut. I remembered Brady mentioning the name in several of his stories. But I hadn’t been paying enough attention and didn’t remember the connection.
“Send it,” I instructed.
She did, and I snatched the phone away before she could do anything else. I began to scroll through her previous messages. A yellow app with a ghost lit up, the username the same as the man she’d texted. I clicked it, and it was an image of three cats sitting in the window.
They’re waiting for you guys!
I closed out of the app and shut the screen off. This woman had a life, and by the looks of it a man. Yet when the situation turned against her, she cast it off so easily. Suspicions churned inside me. Did she only come with the boy because she expected to be rescued? That wasn’t fucking happening. No, she chose this. She chose my life.
It might take weeks, maybe months, but soon she would realize she belonged to me now. No knight on a fiery steed was rushing in to save her. The maiden was in the lair of the monster now, and I would be damned if I let anyone think they could steal from me.
