Page 35

“You like assholes.” I downed my glass and poured another. “That's one thing I know about you.”

Poppy's eyes turned to slits. Her mouth folded at the corners as her fingers tightened around the glass. In one quick move, she knocked back the entire glass of whiskey. She held out the empty glass and nodded for me to fill it again.

“Is this what we're going to do while we're here? Sit by the fire, get drunk, and what, share stories? Pretend like this is a weekend retreat at a ski lodge?”

“Would that be a bad thing?” I poured her another shot and then one for myself. “It's better here than at the factory, isn't it? Would you prefer to surround yourself with those types of people from the event the other night? Rich, smug, narcissistic fuck faces?”

She shrugged a shoulder as she held the glass in her lap. “Yes and no. I know how those people are and what to expect from them. I can't see the future here. And those people didn't kidnap me. Here, I'm still your prisoner.”

“Those assholes would never put their life on the line for you. Not one of them. I can tell you right now that most of the men in that room would have thrown you to the wolves just to protect themselves. Just so we're clear, you're not my prisoner. You never were. And you're alive,” I said.

“For now.”

I snapped back a third shot and then a fourth. “Let me ask you something,” I said. My voice hissed from the back of my throat because of the alcohol. “Do you think you're any more of a prisoner here than you were at Aneska Pharmaceutical?”

“It's not the same thing.”

“I'm serious. Think about it. Really think about it.”

She glanced off into the room. Her mind was spinning, but she didn't say a word. I waited patiently for her to say something. I wasn't going to let her get out of answering that question. It was vital for her to realize the difference between costume jewelry and a real gem. Just because those people wore smilesand fancy suits didn't mean they would do what I was willing to do to protect her.

Poppy finally broke the silence and said, “It's still cold in here.”

“Come here,” I said as I held out my arm. She gave me a funny look and leaned away. “Just come here. I'm not going to hurt you.”

“I think I'll stay right where I am.”

“You said you're cold. I can help you warm up.” I smiled. Poppy glared at me. “Did you already forget how hot I can make you?” I asked. Her eyes opened wide as she held her breath. “I didn't think so. What happened at the event wasn't part of my plan, even if you think it was. That was real. You wanted it, and so did I.”

“That was before I knew who you really were,” she said sternly. “Things have changed since then.”

“You still don't know who I am. All you know is what I do for a living, but that's not who I am.” I slipped my arm around her shoulders. She was stiff but didn't resist. I pulled her against me and started to rub the outside of her arm. “Tell me honestly, do I really scare you?”

“No,” she answered.

“And why not? Why are you not scared?”

“I don't know. Ishouldbe afraid of you, but I'm not. Ishouldn'twant you to touch me, but I do. I shouldn't want you to hold me, but I do. I don't understand it. I think I'm losing my mind. I have to be.”

“You're not losing your mind. You just know I'm not here to hurt you, even if my actions are telling you something different. Listen to yourself. It's telling you the truth.”

She leaned her head on my shoulder and ran a finger around the edge of her glass. “I want to believe it. I want to believe you when you say it, but what proof do I have? How can I trust you?”

“I've already killed for you.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, looking up at me with big doe eyes. Her pupils were like giant pools, innocent and naive yet lucid and clear.

“Dylan Graves.”

“Dylan? What about Dylan?” Her voice was shaky, and her body stiffened. “What did you do?”

“It's not what I did that's the issue. It's what he did. What did he try to do to you? What has he done to others? You asked me how many men I killed, but how many women had he objectified or raped? I can tell you I've never raped a woman. I've never hurt a woman. And I've never killed someone who didn't deserve it. That I can give you my word on.”

“Who decides who deserves what? You?” she asked. “Are you God?”

“I'm no god, Poppy. It's actions. People's actions decide what they deserve. Dylan tried to rape you. He's raped other women. We both know that for a fact. He got what he had coming.”

“And what about his family? His wife? His kids?” She sat up straight, her tone firm. “What about them? How is his death fair for them? Did you even stop to think about how that would affect them?”