Page 24 of The Wolf

Vega

I stared at the back of Poppy's head as she slept.

I couldn't sleep. I thought I could, but no matter how much I tried to close my eyes, they didn't stay shut.

So, I watched her. I watched her subtle movements: her arms as they twitched, her legs as she tucked them tighter, and her head as it moved in soft jerks like she was interacting with her dream.

I reached out and stroked her hair, which seemed to settle her some. She made a low moan and snuggled deeper into slumber. I rolled over and looked up at the stars. They sparkled between the treetops, going in and out as the branches swayed.

The fire crackled. An ambient sound through the dead of night. It lulled me into a solemn state of being. I was just there. There in the forest. There in the Poppy's life. There in this world that I had no joy being in.

But what choice did I have?

Born into an existence I never asked for. Never wanted. Never enjoyed. And yet, I was fucking good at it. To excel at anything took practice. This was in my blood. Practice helped hone my skills, but the viscous liquid flowing through my veins carried my trade.

Poppy twitched again. I glanced over to see she was still fast asleep. A second twitch made her arm jerk up tight against her ribs. I soothed her thoughts with another stroke of my hand over her hair. Poppy settled back to a relaxed breath and calm muscles.

A twig cracked in the distance twenty yards away or less. It was a delicate break. Not the break of an animal wandering through the dark. The break of a man in boots attempting to be stealthy. I knew it instantly. I had spent enough time hunting to know the difference between paws and feet.

Whoever it was was breathing heavily. Far too heavy to be hidden in the silence despite the darkness that surrounded us. Poppy didn't stir. She was stuck in dreamland, running from her own demons.

I glanced to my right in the direction of the steps. A second and a third step filtered through the trees. The crunch of leaves and the rustle of low branches were getting closer. I slowly reached for the knife on my belt and gripped the handle.

My eyes were on the sky, but my ears were wide open, listening to everything all at once.

My heart was a steady thump inside my chest. Nothing about this life excited me anymore.

No fight made my muscles tingle. No kill sent adrenaline coursing through my body.

These battles were no different than cooking dinner to me.

They were as mundane as taking out the trash.

The following footsteps came from the tree ten feet away from me. The unknown man was breathing even harder. I didn't think he knew how loud he was actually being. He was either new or just a low-level hitman with no real skill.

He was behind me now, slinking slowly but screaming with every step. The snap of a twig was as loud as a bomb. Leaves swished like water over rocks in a brook. I held my breath, patiently waiting for the living darkness to make its move.

I felt his hot breath against my head. His breathing raspy in my ear. The smell of black powder wafted over my face. He was going to shoot, and this time, he was going to make sure the shot was good.

I was motionless. My eyes were open, but I couldn't tell if the executioner knew I was awake.

I held my breath and waited. I waited for the perfect moment to counter-strike.

Cold metal pressed against my temple. That was my cue.

My moment. The perfect time to make him regret his decision to come after us.

In one fluid motion, I wrapped my hand around the barrel, twisted hard, and yanked the gun out of his hand. I tossed the gun into the woods and pulled my knife. He had no chance. I grabbed his collar, pushing him back against a tree. His eyes were large and bright as the moon.

“How did you find us?” I asked. “How did you find my home?”

His surprised stare turned into a veered gaze. “It wasn't easy, but everyone leaves traces. Even you.” The man smirked and chuckled.

“Wrong answer. How did you find us?”

“That doesn't really matter.”

“Tell me who.”

“You know I can't do that,” he said as his eyes darted around the darkness, searching for a new weapon. “I'll make you a deal, though. Let me do what I was sent here for, and I'll give you a quick ending. I won't let you suffer.”

I chuckled, my voice a whisper. “You won't let me suffer. That's rich. But it doesn't look like you have much leverage here. You do have a knife to your throat if you hadn't noticed.”

“And you have a knife to your stomach. I could gut you right now, and it would make no difference to me.” He pressed the tip of his blade in deeper.

The sharp edge burned my skin as he twisted it in.

A slow warmth began to moisten the fabric.

“Take your pick. A quick bullet to the head or your insides splattered on the ground for the animals to eat.”

I thinned my lips and frowned. “I guess you don't understand who you're dealing with. The only trace I leave is bodies in my wake. And you're next.”

The man attempted to pierce my stomach with his knife, but I was too quick.

I sliced his throat. A clean, straight wound opened, spilling blood.

It flowed down his neck and soaked into his shirt.

He dropped his knife instinctively to grab his throat and stop the bleeding.

But I blocked him. I held him in place until his body went limp, and he bled out.

I let his lifeless body drop to the ground. I didn't get an answer from him about how he tracked me down. It couldn't have been from one of the men that worked for me. Could it?

Had I fucked up along the way? Did I leave some sort of trace and not notice. Was I getting sloppy?

“What's going on?” Poppy's voice diverted my thoughts.

“We need to go. It's not safe,” I said as I turned and walked to her. She rubbed her eyes and tried to look around me. “Don't look. You don't need to see that.” I quickly stamped out the fire and helped her to her feet.

We had no time to waste. If this guy and the man I shot were here, there were more not far behind them. I had to get Poppy out of there. I was the only thing protecting her. I was the only thing keeping her alive.

I took Poppy's hand. She tried to pull away and head toward the man on the ground. “What is that over there? Do you see it?”

The fire barely had a glow, and it was hard to make out the lump on the ground. “Yeah, I see it. And we need to go. Now.”

“But—”

“No. We're leaving.” I yanked her along into the blackness, away from the fire and away from the second killer.

“How are we going to see where we're going? It's too dark out.”

“Just hold my hand. You'll be fine.”

I dragged her around trees and through thick brush. My ears were always aware of the sounds around us. I was on alert like prey. I didn't like it. I was never the one being hunted. I felt a twinge of anger in that situation.

Why am I doing this? Why would I go from being the hunter to being the hunted?

Poppy sniffled behind me. She was crying. I stopped and pulled her around to face me. She wasn't just crying—she was sobbing. Her shoulders were shaking, and her breathing was labored.

“I. . . I can't. . . I can't do this.”

“Yes, you can,” I said. “You have to. You don't have a choice.”

My heart broke instantly. Never in my life had I felt so strongly about the pain she was suffering. I had always been indifferent to emotions. I learned early on how to push away emotions. Any emotion that might make me weak or vulnerable or hinder the objective in front of me.

With Poppy, I felt all of that. Her confusion and fear attached to my body like a parasite looking for food, feeding off me, and sucking me dry. I felt her anger and sadness and mirrored it with anger and sadness of my own. Like a still lake's reflection mirrored the world around it.

But I didn't just feel the negative emotions. I felt emotions I never had the chance to understand. I felt pride for doing the right thing for once. I felt happiness for keeping her alive. And I felt greed to make her mine.

“If we stop, you'll die. It's that simple. We keep moving, and you stay alive. So let's get the hell out of here.”

“It doesn't matter,” she said. Her swollen eyes glazed over as she peered at me. “I remember now. I know why this is happening to me and who is doing it.”

I cocked my head. “You do? What did you remember?” I asked.

“I didn't just remember it. I dreamed it. I lived it. I can see it all. My stepfather wants me dead, doesn't he?”

“Yes,” I said flatly.

“And you. . .” Her voice trailed off as if she couldn't say the words out loud.

“I was hired to kill you.”

“By him?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She ran her hands through her hair and looked up at the sky. “He's been trying to kill me for years, hasn't he?”

“That I don't know.”

“The pills he gave me, they weren't to help me stay sane; they were to keep me from remembering. That's why you wouldn't give them to me.”

“Yes. They clouded your mind. I knew taking them away would bring you some clarity.”

“He killed my mother.”

“I figured that much. I couldn't find the proof, though. As far as the police are concerned, she took her own life.”

“Well, she didn't, and I'm going to prove it.”

“Poppy, it's been a long time now. Any proof is probably gone.”

“I saw him do it.”

“What?” I asked.

Poppy nodded as she paced in a small circle. Her fingers tugged at her lips as she exhaled. “I was there that night. I saw him force the gun into her hand and make her pull the trigger. But it doesn't make any sense. Why kill me now? Why, after all these years?”

“You were pulling away from him, and he could see it. Men like him can't handle not having the control. He could see you distancing yourself, and it scared him.”

“Scared him? I couldn't remember what happened until now. If I hadn't met you, I probably still wouldn't have remembered. I'd be popping those pills like candy, trying to keep the psychosis at bay.”

“That doesn't matter to a man like him. With you close, he could keep an eye on you.”

“I don't know how to handle this. It's like my brain exploded into a million pieces, and they're slowly coming back together. But why? Why kill my mother? I don't understand.”

“I don't have all the answers. I wish I did, but I don't. All I knew, all I could feel from the beginning was that you didn't deserve to die. That's why I took you the way I did. Something drove me to keep you safe.”

Her puffy eyes blinked a few times. She sniffled and ran her wrist under her nose. “But you don't even know me. Why would you do that? Why risk your life for me?”

“It just felt right,” I answered her honestly. There was no reason for putting myself in the line of fire. I had no valid excuse for making that decision. It was just instinct. My gut feelings were stronger than the money being offered.

“What the hell am I going to do?” she asked. Her eyes lifted to mine. Glassy and glazed, it looked like one blink would send a gush of tears down her cheeks.

“I'm going to take you far away from here. Far away from that man. You'll never have to worry again so long as you're with me.”

Poppy shook her head gently. “He's never going to stop looking for me.”

“And I'll never stop being one step ahead of him. I have more than enough money for us to disappear.”

“So that's what my life will be? Constantly running. Forever looking over my shoulder. That doesn't really sound like living, Vega.”

“But you'll be alive. Isn't that what matters more? The alive part?”

“What kind of life is that?” Her jaw went slack as her shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I don't want to live like that. That's what my mother was trying to do.

She took me from him. I think she was trying to save us both back then.

But he found us. He found us, and in the end, he killed her.

He won't stop. We'll never live a normal life again.”

“I've never lived a normal life, Poppy.” I stepped towards her and took both her hands in mine. “What do you want to do?”

“I don't want to constantly be running. I don't want to live in fear. I don't want to live a life that's all pretend. Fake names, fake history, fake everything. I want to be me, Vega.”

“There's only one way for that to happen,” I said. “We have to burn his empire to the ground with him inside,” I told her honestly. The only way out was to destroy his world. “I'll kill him for you.”

Poppy's eyes opened wide as saucers. Her lips thinned as she swallowed hard. “No. I won't ask you to do that. I can't.”

“You're not asking. I'm telling you what I'm going to do.”

“He's my father. It's wrong, Vega. Murdering people is wrong.”

“Some people deserve it. That's just a fact. You and I both know he'll kill you the first chance he gets. You said it yourself, he won't stop. I'm giving you the solution, Poppy.”

She threw her hands into her hair and pulled it back tight against her scalp as she groaned with frustration. “And what if that doesn't work, huh? What if he kills you first? Then what?”

“He won't.”

“He's been doing a pretty damn good job so far.” Poppy looked around in the darkness. “Look where we are.”

“We're here because I refused to do the job I was hired for.

I was supposed to kill you, but your stepfather is an impatient man.

He couldn't wait. He hired someone else.

I'm not the only person who does this kind of work.” I grabbed her hands and pulled her close.

“But no one is as good as me. Your stepfather doesn't know the shit storm he has coming down on him.”

“I want to believe you, but it's hard to believe anything right now.”

I smiled as I wrapped my arm around her waist. “Poppy, I'm going to make things right.”

“By killing more people?” She tilted her head to her shoulder and arched a brow. “I think you've killed enough people for me.”

“I'm going to do whatever it takes to give you your life back.”

Poppy's eyelids lowered to half-mast as she asked, “What about you? When do you get your life back?”

“I'm a lost soul, Poppy. There is no life to go back to. I can't be saved.”

“I think you're wrong,” she said. Her small hand came up and captured my jaw. “It's never too late to change.”