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Breath held, I hold his dark gaze, even though I want to shrink under it, I watch him lick his lips, his cupid’s bow a smooth curve.
“You would choose all of us,” he states, like he’s just spitting facts, and then as I open my mouth, he speaks again, “if you had a choice, you’d choose us all.”
I swallow, “I would,” I reply nervously.
He drops his gaze, and I feel sick, I guess he wanted me to choose him.
“Then you’ll have us all, Poppy,” he announces simply, his shoulders rolling back, his fingers coming back to my chin, he looks like Bennett now, strong, certain.
Lynx and Rex at my feet, Raiden at my side, Flynn at my back, my body curled in his lap, Bennett grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“Whatever it is you want now, Lollipop, you’ll have, because between us, we can give you the fucking world.” He presses his lips to mine in a fierce kiss, my eyes closing as tears fill them once again when he says, “And we will.”
Chapter 45
POPPY
Idon’t turn my phone back on. Instead, I give it to Bennett, let him deal with my father’s harassment, and he gives me a new one, so they can contact me when we’re not together.
Chris is not in class, hiding away in a private clinic with two broken arms, a shattered cheekbone, and all five of my men tell me not to think about him. He won’t be popping up near me anytime soon, and if he did, they’d deal with it.
Flynn focuses on the paperwork side of things.
My nearly failing grades.
The Deputyship.
My blood runs cold even just thinking of it.
They tell me not to think about it, not to worry, not to let my anxiety control my life. Let them fix it for me. Attempt to make it up to me. Grovel. And over the rest of Spring Break it was frighteningly easier than I thought it’d be. To let them.
To fall back into the arms of men who were my lovers turned tormentors, now, I think, maybe, they could be my saviours.
I walk to my last class of the day, take a seat high in the back and bury myself in my books. Taking notes like a maniac because I’m running on no sleep and caffeine has been my onlyvice. And I don’t think I’ve felt this uncomfortable or irritable in my own skin before, never in my whole life.
I miss the drugs.
And that alone is terrifying.
I don’t know when it got so bad. When I became so frighteningly dependent.
My hands shake, my guts churn and I want to vomit constantly, but there’s nothing to expel, food tastes like chalk.
The nib of my pencil snaps against my page and I blink out of my haze, staring down at the lined sheet, frowning at the nonsense I’ve scrawled across the paper. I’m not even sure what made me press down so hard, the little tip of lead rolling to the edge of the desk, plinking softly as it hits the ground.
“Poppy Foster!” the professor snaps, my knee hitting the underside of the desk with my flinch.
“Yes, Professor?” I answer, my voice tight, embarrassment bright in my cheeks as sixty pairs of eyes all turn to stare back at me.
“The dean wants to see you in his office,” I blink, panicking, I want to say I haven’t done anything, but whispers start, and my professor frowns, “right away.”
“Right,” I nod my head, looking back down at my unintelligible notes.
I heft it all up into my arms, shove it into my canvas bag, papers fluttering everywhere as I try not to make a scene. My cheeks flame, my ears burn hot and itchy, and I hurry to get down the stairs as quickly as possible.
My heart hammers in my chest as I start making my way to the office. My head pounding at the temples, sickness washes over me again, and I have to pause, knuckles to my mouth as I close my eyes, breathe deeply through my nose. God, this is the fucking worst.
I pluck my phone out of my pocket, finding Rex’s name and shooting him a text letting him know where I am. Classes are almost over and he’s supposed to be meeting me. Bennett made me promise not to go anywhere alone, but I can’t exactly ignore my professor.The dean.
