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I had a bunch of scrapes and bruises and also a concussion, but thankfully, no broken bones. They were going to keep me overnight because of the concussion, even though I had protested, telling them I didn’t need to stay.
Eventually, the chaos of the day began to ebb, replaced by a sense of calm resolve. Despite the uncertainty that lay ahead, I knew one thing for certain—I would not rest until I had made amends for the mess I had caused.
As I drifted into a fitful sleep, thoughts of redemption and forgiveness danced through my mind, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. That was until Yarder’s deep, low voice slipped through the haze. “Sleep now, Poppy, but just know once you wake up, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
Chapter Two
Yarder
The hospital’s sterile corridors seemed to stretch on endlessly as I paced back and forth, my mind consumed by worry and anger. All night, I had kept vigil by Poppy’s bedside, unable to tear myself away from her unconscious form.
I had left her side to get some fresh air, but I didn’t go far.
I stepped back into her room, and she stirred in her sleep, her brow furrowing with unease, and my heart clenched at the sight.
When her eyes fluttered open, meeting mine with a mix of surprise and relief, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotions—relief that she was awake, anger at the situation that had brought us here, and a gnawing sense of dread at what lay ahead.
“You’re still here,” she whispered, her voice barely heard above the hum of machinery.
I nodded, my jaw tense with unspoken words. “You didn’t hear what I said before you fell asleep?” I asked, my voice low and gravelly.
Poppy’s lips quirked in a half-smile, a faint glimmer of sass shining through even in this dire moment. “Uh, maybe,” she replied, her tone laced with uncertainty.
I settled back in my chair, my gaze never leaving her face. “You wanna have this talk here or at your place?” I asked, my voice tight with restrained anger.
Her response caught me off guard, a sharp pang of hurt piercing through the anger. “Uh, if we go back to my place, are you going to kill me?” she asked, her words heavy with apprehension.
A growl rumbled in my throat, a primal instinct of displeasure that she thought I was going to kill her. “I think I’m the one who should be asking you that, Poppy,” I retorted, my tone laced with bitterness. “Last I checked, you brought your car to my garage, and then next thing I know, the damn thing blew up. I suppose the hopes were for the whole club to be working on cars when it blew, huh?”
The accusation hung heavy in the air, the silence stretching between us as Poppy’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No!” she gasped, her voice rising with panic. “That’s not at all what I wanted. I didn’t want anything to happen! I came there to get my car from you because I didn’t know what that guy was going to do. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I assumed it was going to be something bad.”
Despite the anger simmering within me, a flicker of doubt crept into my mind. It sounded like bullshit, but something in Poppy’s eyes told me she was telling the truth. “I helped you out, Poppy,” I reminded her, my voice softer now, laced with hurt. “Set you up with a payment plan for your car and even gave you rides back and forth to work.”
Tears welled in her eyes; her voice choked with emotion. “I know,” she cried, her words a desperate plea for understanding. “I didn’t want to do it, but they didn’t give me any choice. I knew if I told them no, I was going to die.”
My fists clenched at my sides, a surge of protectiveness flooding through me. “Who?” I demanded, my voice low and dangerous. “Who was it that asked you to bring your car to the garage?”
Poppy’s words tumbled out in a rush, her desperation palpable. “I don’t know,” she wailed, her voice trembling with fear. “He was wearing all black, had a tan ball cap on, and dark sunglasses over his eyes. He did have a beard, but other than that, I can’t tell you anything about him. I had never seen him before he cornered me by my car last night after I got off work. I swear, Yarder. I didn’t know any of this was going to happen. I tried to stop it from happening. As soon as I saw all of that money in my checking account, I knew whatever they were going to do was going to be very, very bad.”
“How much money?” I asked.
“One hundred thousand,” she gulped. “I have never seen that many zeros in my checking account before.”
“You were that hard up for money that you thought killing me and the club was a good idea?”
“No!” Poppy shouted. “You have to believe me, Yarder. I didn’t want to do it, but I knew I had to. I didn’t know what else to do. It’s just me. I don’t have any family or friends.”
“You could have gone to the police,” I pointed out.
She shook her head. “He told me they would be watching me all night. If I did anything they didn’t like, they would hurt me.”
“Then you should have told me when you brought the car in. You may not have family or friends, Poppy, but you had me.”
“Had?” she whispered.
The word hung heavy in the air, the weight of it settling over me like a suffocating blanket.
Twenty-four hours ago, I would have done anything for Poppy. We weren’t dating or anything, but I felt a connection to her the second I met her. Helping her out with her car and rides to and from work wasn’t a chore. It was something I wanted to do. She needed help, and I wanted to be the person to help her.
