Page 21 of The Wolf

Poppy

I woke up in a cold sweat. A sweat so icy it chilled me to the bone.

I sat up straight, my breathing short and spastic.

For a moment, I forgot where I was. I looked around at the unfamiliar space, at the log walls and the hanging tapestries.

My eyes darted between the boar head and the antelope bust.

“What's wrong?” Vega asked. My eyes shot down to his. He sat up beside me and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Are you alright?”

“Everything was a lie. Wasn't it? My entire childhood was just a stage for my father.”

“Why do you say that? What did you remember?”

“The manipulation. The false sense of family. My life was a lie. I can feel it.”

“Not all of it was a lie,” he said. “That's not possible. There's always some truth between the layers.”

“I don't know,” I said. Everything in my life seemed like a listless vision. Dreams were built between memories. The building blocks of my world were made of clouds, lacking anything that resembled solid earth.

“I know,” Vega said with firmness. “I know it wasn't all a lie.”

“Maybe it wasn't, but which parts are real?” I dragged my hands through my hair as I looked into the dimly lit room. “How am I supposed to tell the difference between reality and illusion?”

“I know your mother loved you. That wasn't a lie. I know she tried to give you a better life. And I know she tried to protect you.”

“What about the rest? If that's all I have—”

“That's all that matters,” he said with confidence. Vega pulled me against him and stroked my hair. “The rest can be forgotten.”

“I don't want to forget. I want to remember so history doesn't repeat itself. I barely remember my childhood, and I don't know if what I remember is even real.”

“It will come back to you eventually. And when it does, you'll have all the answers you're looking for.”

“I just don't understand. What happened to me?”

“Your father happened to you. I'm sorry, Poppy, but he took everything from you.”

“How? How did he do it?”

Vega held up my bottle of prescription pills and shook it. “With these.”

“I don't understand. He drugged me?” My eyes widened as tears bubbled up, making Vega's face fuzzy. “Why would he do that?” I shook my head in disagreement. “No. It doesn't make sense. He had no reason to erase my memory.”

“You were a threat, Poppy. You and your mother.”

“No. You're wrong. You don't know what you're talking about. My mother was sick. She was a schizophrenic. She had delusions, and my father tried everything to help her.”

“Your mother was getting in his way. She threatened to leave him and expose him for the criminal he is.” Vega opened the bottle and poured one of the pills into his hand.

He picked it up between two fingers and began rolling it around.

“Your father has spent years building his empire.

Why do you think he's so powerful? How do you think he made his millions?

It's not from curing cancer or treating high blood pressure.”

“He's in the pharmaceutical business,” I answered. “You can make that kind of money if you know what you're doing. My father is brilliant.”

“He's an evil genius.” Vega stared at the pill, rolling it around like a sparkling gem. “You know why he did this to you. It's just buried in your memories someplace, waiting to be found.”

“No. I don't believe you. You're making this shit up to keep me here.” My chest tightened as the realization set in that this was a trap. Vega was trying to lure me into his den and keep me here willingly. “Do I look stupid? You're just using me. You want something, and I'm how you get it.”

“You're wrong.” Vega shook his head with a frown. “Poppy, your father sells this shit on the black market. He pedals different drugs he creates to foreign countries, drug lords, even our own government. He's not the man you think he is, Poppy. And I know deep down you see that, too.”

“No. That's not true. You're lying.” It was hard to wrap my head around the thought.

I was in denial, like an alcoholic refusing to see the beer in their hand.

“Why would he do that? He has no reason to do that.

He wouldn't. He makes millions creating medication. My father helps people. He helped me. He tried to help my mother. That medication has helped to keep me sane for years.”

“Sometimes there isn't an explanation for why people do things. Sometimes evil is just evil.”

“But my mother—”

“Your mother wasn't sick. Her paranoia and delusions weren't in her head. They were real.”

Tears streamed down my face. “No. You don't know that.”

“Yes, I do, and I can prove it. This fucking medication is what's holding you back. It's blocking your memories.”

“So, it could be true. . .” I let my words fade. Could Vega be right? Had my father been drugging me for years?

“What could be true?”

I told Vega about what happened when I was a little girl.

He listened intently, allowing me all the room to cry and talk.

When I finished, he simply hugged me. He hugged me like no one in the world could reach me.

His arms were steel, encasing me like the fortress of a castle. I was protected from the world.

“I'm going to fix this,” Vega said. “I'm going to make it right. You deserve better.”

“How?” I asked. I didn't even know what I was being protected from. I had one memory that I knew all along was real. That was it. The rest was a mystery. The rest was as tangible as fog on a muggy night.

“I declared war already. Now, I have to finish it. Set you free. Give you back your life.”

“What do you mean you declared war? How?”

War? What the hell is he talking about? There's no war.

“By not killing you.”

I rubbed my temples. My head was starting to hurt. “I have a headache. I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“You're probably going through withdrawals.”

I glanced at him and then shut my eyes. “How can you be so sure about all this? What makes you an expert on my father and what you think he's doing?”

“Poppy, I told you before that I'm good at what I do. But you have to remember things for yourself. Anything I tell you, you're going to doubt or question. It has to come from within. You have the answers; you don't need me to give them to you.”

“But you think I need you to save me? I spent eighteen years with my father; he could have killed me at any point, but he didn't. What makes you so sure I need saving?”

“You still think I'm the monster chasing you, and that's all right. I don't blame you. Like I said, the answers have to come from you. And when they do, which they will, you'll see him for the man he truly is.”

I stood up and paced the room. “If what you're saying is true, then why not call the cops? Wouldn't that be the right thing to do?”

Vega chuckled and shook his head. “Think about what you're asking. What do you think would happen if I called the cops? You think they're going to come rushing in here to save you? You think they're just going to take my word for it and go arrest the people after you?”

“Not the people. The person. And we both know who that person is.

It's you,” I said as I walked back to him.

“I can see right through you. You're trying to fill my head with all this shit to make me confused.” I threw a finger in his face.

“You want me to believe you so you can keep me trapped here.

It's not going to work. I don't believe you! You're fucking with my mind!”

I threw my hands into my hair and grabbed the roots.

I had enough of the mind games. My head was killing me.

I couldn't take it anymore. The games had to end.

My father had been there for me for eighteen years.

I had known Vega for a week, and he kidnapped me to get me here.

He was a crazy fucking stalker, and this was his attempt to get me to stay willingly.

I wasn't going to fall for it. It was bad enough that I let my guard down and slept with him. Vega put on the nice guy act. He was smooth and convincing, and I got roped in.

I'm a fucking idiot!

“Poppy, I know this is hard to imagine, but I'm telling you the truth. The things I know—”

“Fuck you,” I spat. “You're a sick, twisted son of a bitch, and I'm not falling for your games. I'm leaving.”

“Where do you think you're going to go? We're surrounded by fifty-plus acres of dense forest. I followed you for quite some time before taking you, and I know you're not an outdoor enthusiast. You can't even stand it when you get dirt under your nails.”

Vega leaned back with a smug expression on his face. He thought he had me cornered. As if his natural fence would me in. Keep me contained. Keep me tethered to him.

“Fuck you!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Blood rushed to my head, making my cheeks blaze with anger. “I'm fucking leaving!”

I turned and ran to the front door. It wasn't locked or bolted or nailed shut. Vega didn't move. He sat lazily on the couch like I was making an empty threat. He honestly expected me to yank open the door and freeze like a house cat who had never stepped a foot outside in their life.

But I didn't. I ran. I ran over the vast expense of open grass and into the trees.

I threw myself through bushes and thick debris.

I ignored every thorn and puncture as I decided to take my chance in the forest again.

We were alone this time. He didn't have anyone to come capture me. Vega would have to hunt me himself.

There was no plan in my head other than getting as far away from him as possible. That was my only goal. If I died there, hidden beneath a layer of decaying leaves, eaten by wild animals, and consumed by the earth around me, I would take it. It was better to die by my own hand than that of another.