Who is this man and where the heck did he come from? And why me? ‘Never look a gift horse in the mouth’, Mum would say. I can’t help it though. Guys rarely show up for me unless they want something in return. I just worry long term, Dom wants more than I can give. I won’t be sticking around. I’m sure Dom could protect me, but I can’t risk him getting hurt for me.
9
DOM
Poppy stays in the Range Rover while Dan and I hook her up to the tow bar. I could fix it myself, but I don’t want to be seen and the sooner I get her back where she’s safe, the better.
“Who’s steering, me or you?” Dan dusts off his hands after tying off the tow rope.
“I’ll drive the Range Rover. You steer her car.” I tug the keys from my jeans pocket.
“Are you taking it to Kane’s?”
“Yeah. He’s the only person I trust with it.”
“Seems a lot of effort for this piece of crap. Can’t we just buy her another?”
“You might have the money for that, but I sure as hell don't. And I'm not letting you buy my woman a car.” Dan’s not loaded, but he’s always been generous with what money he has. “Besides, she won’t need one. It’s not like she’s going anywhere.”
Climbing into the car, I slot the key into the ignition. Poppy doesn’t look at me, but keeps her eyes fixated on the window as if she’s staring into another dimension.
I drive forward, picking up the slack of the tow rope. The carnage at her place brought back the memories of when we were kids. My father’s enemies ransacked our home while he was working a night-shift.
He never forgave himself for that night. He moved to England to escape his past and start a fresh, just like Poppy’s trying to do, but the past has a way of seeking you out. The further you run, the more exhausted you are when it finally catches up, overtaking and consuming your future.
I won’t let that happen to Poppy. The past won’t steal her future like it did my Pa’s. Alone with my thoughts, I drive out of the city, heading for Kane’s farmhouse.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Dan taps away on the steering wheel of Poppy’s Fiesta. He dealt with Ma’s death much better than me. Years of therapy, and I’m still fucked up. Although it’s probably the reason neither of us has been able to settle down.
In our line of work, we can do without the distraction, but with Poppy I can’t stay away from her. I’m the strength she needs right now, but she’s becoming my weakness. One mistake could cost us both. I’m the reason she’s in this mess. My constant following her around has made her whereabouts known.
My fingers graze her thigh as I shift gears. “Do you want the radio on?”
She doesn’t answer. Her forehead rests against the passenger window. I take my eyes off the road for a second to check if she’s asleep. With a blank expression on her face, she’s disassociating. Who can blame her after everything she’s been through? The usual fire in her eyes is nothing more than dull embers.
“Poppy.” My hand reaches over, taking hold of hers, and stroking her palm with soft, soothing circles of my thumb.
Slowly she comes around, finding her way back to me. Her fingers interlace with mine, and she shifts in her seat to face me. “Where are we going?”
“I’m just taking your car to a mate of mine. He’ll give it a good check, make sure it’s running as it should.”
“Thank you for helping me.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” I practically choke on the words that spill out of my mouth, coated with guilt. She doesn’t need to know I’m the cause of all this upheaval. Well, partly the cause. Maybe the police would’ve caught up with her eventually, but so far she’s managed to keep a low profile and done everything right. There was no tracing her bank cards or phone. If it wasn’t for picking up her number plate on a service station CCTV camera, I wouldn’t have known to look up north.
I squeeze her hand. “You all right?”
“I’ll be okay.” She looks away gazing back out the window at the fields on the side of the motorway.
Bringing her hand to my lips, I kiss her fingers. “You don’t have to be all right, you know.”
She faces me again. I give her a sideways glance before focusing back on the road, but it was enough to see her beautiful brow pinch in confusion.
“It’s okay not to be okay, Red. I know you’re a fighter. You’re a survivor, but sometimes it’s okay to accept help.”
She sniffles, then leans over the centre console, resting her head on my arm. “I’m glad you’re here.”
My hand reaches around her, sliding up and down her back. I think I’d do anything for this woman at this point. Anything to see her smile and laugh like she did in the club when she was unaware of all the shit unfolding around her.
