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Chapter Eight

Poppy

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I felt a tickle across my forehead and swatted it away. The tickle came back, soft as a feather. I swatted at it again.

“Poppy, wake up.”

I jolted awake, pushing myself up quickly. Vega was sitting next to me with a plate of food. “Jesus. Why the hell are you sneaking up on me?” I asked, shaken by his sudden appearance.

“I didn't sneak up on you. You were passed out. You probably haven't slept like that in days.”

“You're right. I haven't. I wonder why that is?” I eyed him with an accusatory glare.

“I detect a hint of sarcasm.” He thinned his lips as he set the plate down on the stool. “Poppy, you're going to have to come to terms with this. You're here, and there's nothing you can do to change it. The sooner you realize that, the better.”

“How the fuck can I come to terms with this? I don't even know what the hellthisis. Or why I'm inthisat all!” I flailed my arms around with the grace of an inflatable in the wind.

“Look, you're not going to believe me when I tell you this, but I am trying to help you.”

“You call this help?” I threw out a single arm as I looked around at the sad excuse for his version of help. “On what planet would anyone call this helping someone?” I jumped from the cot and stood so close to him that my toes touched his shiny black shoes. “I tried to be nice! I tried so hard to see if you had any good in you. But you kidnapped me! You took me without permission! You keep me locked up in this room! And you want me to think you're helping me? You're fucking insane.”

Vega laughed as his jaw clicked back and forth. “You don't have any idea what I've done for you. You want to see what taking you without permission would really look like?” His giant hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me in so our chests touched. Vega's eyes danced between mine, his thoughts visible and wicked.

My eyes lingered on his, moving down to his mouth. He licked his lips. The faint scent of cologne slipped into my nose, turning on a feral instinct inside me. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to feel and taste him.

The man I met at the gala, with the dimples and nice smile, the handsome eyes, and the smooth voice, was all I could see. For a split second, I forgot where I was and what he had done. My mind flipped with shadowed memories of his fingers inside my body and how good that made me feel.

His thumb stroked my lower back as he reached up with his other hand to touch my cheek. Vega slid his knuckles down my jawline and tipped my head so I was looking at him again.

“You should fear me, but you don't. If you were smart, you would. People don't call me the Wolf for no reason.”

What the hell is wrong with me?I shook myself back to reality.

I hated myself for thinking about his lips and his hands. For feeling it. For wanting it. I really was fucked up in the head. What other explanation was there for wanting a monster?

Maybe it was because of the restricted life I lived. Or the whispers that would float between walls as easily as mold through a vent. Whispers that painted me and my mother as freaks. When I got older and my father finally decided to bring me into his world, I saw how people looked at me. I saw the side-eyed glances and felt the weight of the room when I walked in. But my father promised me I wouldn't end up like her, that I was different.

I am different. I can get myself out of this mess.I sucked in a ragged breath, held it briefly, and then let it go. “I don't think you're as bad of a guy as you say you are. If you were, I'd be dead.”

“You're right about that. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead.”

“Then why take me? Why am I here? What the hell do you want from me?!” I yelled, slamming my fists against his chest. “Kill me already! Just get it over with!” I hit him again and again. “You obviously want something from me, so fucking take it! What the hell are you waiting for?”

Vega didn't budge. His arm stayed around my back, and his hand came up to capture my face. “Is that what you want? You want me to kill you?” he asked.

My jaw clenched tight, eyes turning to slits. “No. I don't want to die.”

“Then why ask for it?”

“What else is there?”

Vega bit his lip, tugging it with the edges of his teeth. “You shouldn't put ideas in my head.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?” I asked bluntly.

He leaned in slightly, bringing his lips so close to mine they were almost touching. I could smell the scent of mint on his breath. His hand gently caressed my cheek, and his other hand massaged the dip in my lower back.