“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 padof 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.
