“Truth or dare?” I say on my approach, loud enough for her to hear me over the ocean.
Poppy startles, turning to look at me over her shoulder. She blinks, her gaze raking me up and down. And then, so softly, she says, “Truth.”
With a hard exhale, I take a seat on the sand next to her, pulling my legs up.
“Truth,” I repeat, glancing at her and offering her an encouraging nod before looking back out over the inky water and waiting for her to talk.
“My dad isn’t really dead.”
A thick swallow works its way down my throat at her whispered confession, but I keep my gaze trained on the horizon, waiting for more.
“He’s… in prison.”
From my periphery I see her look down then, and it takes all I have not to reach for her, to pull her into my arms. I don’t though; I just wait.
“A few months after I was…raped,” Poppy continues, her voice small and broken as she says the word. Fuck, it tears my heart in two. “My dad was a mechanic, and he was working inhis garage… and one of the—” She pauses, and I glance at her, watching as she rolls her lips together, biting them between her teeth before finally continuing. “One of my rapists brought his car in to get fixed. And… m-my dad, he just…” She shakes her head then, staring vacantly out over the water. “He snapped. He… um, he b-beat him to death with a socket wrench… right there, in front of everyone.”
“Shit, Poppy,” I whisper, unable to stop myself, turning to gape at her. “I—” Lost for words, I shake my head, dragging a hand down over my face. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“He was on trial for murder. He would have been sentenced with the death penalty,” she continues. “But his lawyer was able to have his charge reduced. He’ll be in there for life… he’s not eligible for parole because of how… violent… the attack was.”
I stare at her for a long moment, watching as she stares straight ahead, not looking at me, and my fingers itch to touch her, but still, I refrain. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Poppy looks at me then. “Remember that first night, when you were waiting for me in the parking lot?”
I nod.
“One of the first things you said to me, when I asked you why me,” she continues, “was that you didn’t want messy.”
I go to speak, but she continues.
“My dad is in prison for killing my rapist,” she says on a humorless laugh. “How much messier can it get?”
Cocking my head to the side, I frown, searching her tearful gaze. “Poppy, I?—”
“I don’t want people to know, Brookes.” She shakes her head, vehemently, and I see the way her chest hitches with a panicked breath. “It’s all so messed up,” she continues, her words rushed. “My father doesn’t want me to go see him. He won’t call me. He doesn’t even touch the money I send to his commissary account every month. He said I’m better off pretending he’s dead.”
I do touch her then, placing my hand on her shoulder, unableto stop myself because I can see just how worked up she’s getting.
“My mom all but hates me. She’s never said so, but I’m sure she blames me for everything. But I still took her husband’s name the second she remarried.” Poppy sniffles, wiping her tears with the back of her shaky hand. “When I moved away for college, I escaped that part of my life. But I didn’t want that constant reminder that I made a shitty mistake one night that cost me almost everything. I can’t risk anyone finding out about this, Brookes…”
“No one will find out about this,” I assure her, moving to kneel in front of her so she’s forced to look directly into my eyes. Cupping her tear-soaked cheeks, I steady her with an earnest look. “I promise, baby. I will never let?—”
“Brookes,” she interjects, her smile sad. “With you… people will know.”
I shake my head. “No. They won’t. I’ll make sure of it. I don’t know how, but I?—”
“Blake knows, Brookes.”
Poppy’s words are like a slap to my face, knocking me senseless for a few seconds. Blinking hard, I stare at her closely, wondering if maybe I misheard her. “What?”
Clearing her throat, Poppy smiles despite her tears. “Heknows.”
And as I stare at her, processing exactly what she’s just told me, thinking back over the last couple days, back to when everything between us changed seemingly overnight, an uncontainable rage surges through me, bubbling beneath the surface of my skin and searing my veins. I take a deep breath, holding it a moment before releasing it as steadily as I can. With a hard swallow, I try so hard to keep my voice calm as I say, “Poppy, I need you to tell me right fucking now… what did Blake say to you?”
CHAPTER 45
POPPY
