Her fingertips brushed over the forgotten box of macarons at the bottom of her purse, battered from the day’s events, but still intact.
Poppy’s resolve hardened.
These macarons were given to us so we could eat them together – and I’m going to eat them with Max, no matter what.
Feeling energized, she threw on her jacket once more and headed for the front door, gathering the notebook she’d given Max on the way.
After she’d closed the door behind her, she slid the open notebook underneath so that just the coordinates peeked out.
After a moment of thought, she scribbledLook for us herebeneath them with the cheap ballpoint she kept in her purse.
If all else failed, she supposed, the B&B’s owners would know where to collect the bodies if she didn’t succeed in her mission.
Poppy had no intention of failure, though. She was going to get Max out, and they were going to eat macarons together, and she was going to tell him that whatever concerns he may have had about their relationship, they could be worked out.
Setting her jaw, she locked the door and hurried down the stairs.
Hold on, Max,she thought grimly.I’m coming.
Chapter 14
Max imagined, somewhat groggily, that this might be what it felt like to get hit with a sledgehammer.
To be honest, it was knowledge that he probably could have done without. He had a plenty active imagination of his own – no need to move to practical experience in this instance.
Cracking his eyes open, he winced and closed them again for a moment, before trying again.
It was hard to tell a lot, really, through all the blurriness, and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure whether it was due to a head injury, or due to not having his glasses on.
He wriggled his nose, quickly determining that his glasses were definitely not perched on top of it.
Okay, at least part of the blurriness was due to the glasses factor. He cursed himself for his idiotic pride earlier on, when he’d told Levi to put them in his pocket – fat lot of good they were doing himthere, while he was in what appeared to be some sort of hostage situation.
… Or possibly some sort of sex dungeon situation, if the chains that were rattling around his wrists and ankles wereanything to go by. Either way, the situation wasn’t good. There was only one person he would willingly consider entering a sex dungeon with, and she was currently laid up in a hospital bed.
You damn idiot.
Max cursed himself again, much more thoroughly this time. As if being too insecure to wear his glasses wasn’t enough – he’d left Poppy in the hands of strangers while he went off to have his little pity party. Trustworthy strangers, but strangers nonetheless.
Heshould’ve been the first thing that Poppy saw when she woke up, not some randos she’d never met before – and who were, he had to admit, at least a little bit odd. A witch with no verbal filter was probably the last person he should’ve left Poppy with. Who knewwhatkind of things she’d said?
Well, if he made it out of here alive, the first thing he was going to do was find Poppy and apologize, and hope like hell she found it in herself to forgive him. He could see, now, with the kind of clarity that tended to come with things like being chained up in what may or may not have been a sex dungeon, that he needed to get the hell over himself and let Poppy decide whether she wanted to be with a half-shifter who couldn’t shift, and whose only power was being extra good at being an introvert.
Where was this insight and rationality a few hours ago?!he thought, rattling at the chains in irritation.
“Ah. You’re awake.”
Max jumped – he’d had no idea that there was someone else in here, although, really, it entirely made sense. People didn’t tend to kidnap other people and then just leave them to rot – no, they had a tendency to tie them up and then pontificate. Or that was what happened in books, anyway. Max didn’t have any actual practical experience in this arena.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the details of the room he was in, which appeared to be lit only by weak afternoonsun filtering through the grimy windows. He couldn’t see a whole lot, but a figure emerged from the shadows, the blurriness resolving somewhat as it approached.
It was the clothes Max recognized first. The fine cut, the impeccable tailoring – his captor had to be that weirdo that he and Poppy had met in the woods. The man’s face came into view next, mouth twisted in a vicious grin that bore little resemblance to his earlier ‘mild-mannered tourist’ persona.
Max stared at him, unsure what to say.‘You!’felt cliché, and unlikely to elicit any kind of response beyond something irritating like‘Yes, me’.
‘Why have you done this?’was also pretty trite, though at least it might garner some useful information.
In the end, though, Max didn’t have to worry about it. The guy was clearly feeling chatty.
