Page 24

Kiss me.My mind flashed to the gala.Touch me. Take me. . .

No! What the fuck am I thinking!

A war had begun. The push and pull of want and disgust were battling. The hate I felt was cradled with desire. My body grew warm. My sex pulsed. Every nerve exploded with screams to push him away and pleas for his lips against mine. My stomach rolled with butterflies and knots. Fire burned between my thighs with hate and lust.

I had the urge to slap myself, but instead, I attempted to slap him. He dodged my strike, so I punched his chest and tried to shove him off me. “Let me go,” I snarled.

Vega leaned in. “I will, but,” he whispered. There was a long pause. Long enough for me to hear each breath he took.

His words vibrated over my lips, making my knees shake. Whatever trance he was putting on me, I had to break it. There was no room for this right now. I couldn't yearn for my captor. I had to hate him. I needed to despise him.

The hook he was dangling had somehow pierced my chest and was reeling me in. I couldn't take it anymore. No matter what my body said, I had to stay in control.

“This isn't fair,” I said. Vega loosened his grip, and I took a step back.

“Life isn't fair. Most people know that. But most of those people don't grow up with a silver fucking spoon in their mouth.”

“You have no idea what my life has been like,” I growled. “So what if I had money. Money doesn't equal happiness. It can buy a lot of things, but sorrow isn't solid. It can pass through fancy clothes and expensive jewelry. It can infiltrate the strongest walls and rip you to pieces. Suffering doesn't stop with dollar signs.”

“You know what true suffering is?” Vega asked with an air of arrogance. He was looking at his hands, opening and closing them repeatedly. “It's watching someone die. Have you ever watched someone die?” he asked as his eyes found their way back to mine.

I stood silently. How much information should I tell him? How much did he deserve to know? He hadn't earned my suffering. He had done nothing to earn the right to know the pain I lived with.

“Yes. I have,” I said clearly and sternly. “I watched my mother die. Who did you watch die?”

What did any of that matter now anyway? It was in the past. There was nothing I could do to change that. I couldn't bring her back. No one could. It was time for me to own my suffering. Speak it out loud and make it real. I spent years in denial, living my life as if I'd get to see my mother again one day.

Being in this place made me realize there was no one watching out for me. There was no God. There was no Heaven. There was nothing. Because if there was, my mother would have rushed in to protect me.

Vega watched me carefully. His eyes traveled around my face, searching for falsehood. I was being brutally honest. I had no reason to lie to him. Let him see me truly vulnerable. Let him see the human side of me. Let him see Poppy, the person, and not just a toy for his sick game.

“Your turn,” I said.

Vega's eyes steadied on mine. I watched them turn to ice, allowing my reflection to peer back at me. There were dark bags under my eyes. My lips were dry and cracked like brittle plastic. It was me, but it didn't look likeme.

I must have let out a soft gasp because Vega flicked his eyes to the floor and said, “Forget it. Just eat your breakfast.”

Tears bubbled up over my eyes. I blinked rapidly, wiping them away. “I'm not doing this anymore. Give me some fucking answers!”

“Sit down and eat!” he yelled back, pointing at the cot. “Or should I go get you some help again?”

My eyes burned to keep crying, but I was so angry I refused to let them out. I dropped down onto the bed, forked some scrambled eggs into my mouth, and bit the toast. “There. Happy now, asshole?” I asked. Crumbs spurted from my mouth and stuck to my lips.

Vega reached out and ran his thumb across my lips, wiping away the crumbs. I shivered. There was nothing I could do tostop it. And he felt it. Vega's mouth curled to one side. The dimple emerged, sucking all the air from my lungs.

“Yes, I'm very happy.” His phone vibrated in his pocket.

“Aren't you going to get that?” I asked. “Might be important.”

He chuckled as he pulled out the phone and glanced at it. “I doubt it.”

“Well, who is it?” I asked as I took another bite of eggs and a small sip of water. “Telemarketer?”

Vega ignored me and walked to the window. He peeked through the small circle I cleared and asked, “What was it like for you growing up?”

“I don't know. Same as most people, I suppose.”

“Tell me about it.”