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"Huh?"
She didn't know. I wasn't even certain that she would care.
She had plenty of time to find out about Benny; I didn't have that luxury.
"Invite me in," I said coolly.
"Come in," she stepped to the side, readjusting her robe to tie it tighter as I stepped through her doorway. "Dante will be joining us."
"Oh," she scrambled to pass me, quickly grabbing emptied wine glasses, dirty plates, and silverware from the coffee table.
"Have a seat," she called from the kitchen, where she dumped everything in her kitchen sink. When she returned, Dante was already standing next to me, having entered through the back door.
"Sit," she said again, but we both stared at her, not moving.
"Fine," she grumbled, redoing her messy bun into an even messier one, then sat down across from us, crossing her legs and holding her robe tight. "How can I help you?"
I took in her rumpled look, the soft powdery cocaine remnants on the coffee table, pillows scattered everywhere. "Are we interrupting anything?" I nodded towards a bottle of uncorked and unfinished wine by the bar.
"No," she replied, a little too quickly.
"Is there anyone else in the house," Dante growled from beside me.
"No." Her face had gone pale.
"Poppy, you need to be honest with us," I said. "There's been an attack. You might not be safe right now."
"Really?" her voice was a squeak, and she grabbed a pillow, holding it in front of her like a shield. "What happened?"
"There'll be time for that later," I said, impatiently. "When we're done here, Dante will escort you to one of the safe houses. He can explain on the way. For now, I need to talk to you about Tatiana."
"Oh?" she exclaimed, her expression blank. "What about her?"
"I need to know where she is."
"I don't know where she is. She hasn't spoken to me in several days. Why?" Poppy teased, with a mischievous smile and a wink, "Trouble in paradise?"
"Even if that's true," I ignored her flirting, trying to keep her focused, "you would know how to find her."
"Why would you think that?"
"Stop pretending you don't know!" I snapped, trying to contain my frustration. "She could be in danger."
"She's always in some kind of danger," Poppy rolled her eyes and began to study her nails. "She lives on the line between danger and more danger. She can take care of herself."
"It's different this time," I growled in exasperation. None of her girlfriends appeared to have any information about Tatiana. They were evidently wanting to protect her, but they didn't seem to realize that she could be in real danger.
"How so?" She stopped picking at her nails to peer at me.
"Some old enemies of mine have come back, people who know our story together. They might be after her."
I hated revealing all this information--I hadn't spoken about these things with anyone outside my family and Tatiana--but I had to trust someone or I'd never find her.
"Poppy," I looked into her eyes pleadingly, swallowing my ego, "I need to make sure she’s okay."
At this, Poppy fidgeted, moving the pillow around, wiping the powder from the coffee table, readjusting her position on the sofa. "And you really think she might be in trouble?"
"Yes."
