I inhaled quickly and then knocked on the front door. Two seconds later it swung wide, and there was my Petal.
“You look so beautiful.” I held the flowers out to her.
She frowned. “You shouldn't be here, Maverick, if he sees you—”
“I just needed to see you. Is he holding you hostage in there?” I glanced over her shoulder, prepared to defend her freedom if needed.
Poppy laughed, then finally took the flowers from my arms. She sank her nose into the petals and inhaled, a smile taking over her face. “Thank you.”
“I placed an order for flowers every day this week.”
“I saw. You shouldn't, it’s a waste of money.”
“Showing you how much you mean to me is the only thing I want to do. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back on the ridge.”
“Maverick.” She stepped out, closing the door behind her. “I need time. So much has happened between us—but between the two of you? That issue is older than I am.”
I grunted, unwilling to revisit the past like The Captain seemed to like to do.
“Maybe I can talk to him—prove to him I’m not the man he thinks I am.”
“I don’t think that will work.” Her face looked drawn, almost sad in a way that I wasn’t used to.
“I’d do anything to chase away the rain clouds for you.” I caught her gaze, begging her to feel all the things I couldn’t say with words.
“Poppy! Do you know where I put my badge?” Her father’s voice popped our bubble.
Poppy clamped down on her bottom lip, shaking her head once before mouthing the words,I’m sorry. Then, she opened the front door and slipped back inside, gone before I’d even had the chance to tell her what I came to say:
I love you.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Poppy
Light tapping on my bedroom window woke me out of a dead sleep.
My heart launched into my throat, fear channeling through my system before the distincttap tap taphappened again.
I considered calling out for Dad.
Tap tap tap.
I narrowed my focus, sleep dissipating as I rolled over in bed and slid the drawer of the nightstand open. I felt in the dark for the cold metal of the pistol I knew Dad kept next to every bed in the house. I wrapped my finger around the barrel, every afternoon spent target practicing as a kid coming back to me in one violent quake.
Tap tap tap.
I swallowed the fear in my throat and rose out of the bed, crossing the room on quiet footsteps as I pressed the gun to my bare thigh. Sliding along the wall, I paused at the window frame and then angled my vision through a crack in the curtain.
“Maverick!” I blurted, then covered my mouth.
I set the gun on the bed and rushed quickly out of the room and down the hallway. By the time I opened the front door, Maverick was there, standing in the moonlight with a ravaged look on his face.
“I brought you a gift.” He held out a ribbon with a key dangling. “To keep you safe.”
He stepped aside, allowing me to see the vehicle that was parked along my father’s street.
“What are you talking about? Maverick, it’s almost midnight.”
