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I sigh and place my cup on the cabinet beside my bed, catching sight of the scar on my wrist. It’s not the only one on my body, there are similar ones that go up that arm from my elbow to my shoulder and also across both my thighs. In a world where I felt I was losing myself and had no control over what was happening to me after my mum died, I found the control that I craved at the edge of a blade and the sting of the cuts I made into my skin.
It helped to calm the swirling thoughts of anger and guilt and shame that I went through daily. Guilt that there was nothing we could do to save my mum when we were told that she had cancer and it was too far progressed for treatment to help, that the world was deprived of such a beautiful and vibrant soul whilst I was still here alone and suffering.
Anger at the fact she was taken from me, and that I had lost the only person that I would have been able to be truly honest with and would have helped me sort through my confusion and worries about myself.
And the shame of what I’ve allowed myself to become because I was too scared of other people's opinions to be who I was meant to be, and the fact I had no one to blame but myself.
But the scar on my wrist had been the last time I had allowed myself to fall into that type of toxic comfort. I had nearly sliced too deep and, as I struggled to stem the bleeding, I thought of all the dreams I once had and the things I had wanted to do with my life, and I knew then that I couldn’t carry on down this path of self-loathing and self-destruction. It would end up killing me, and even if there was only one thing I knew for certain, it was that I didn’t actually want to die.
I shake my head at myself. I am nothing but a shell of the girl I used to be, broken and pining for one of the strongest and most beautiful women I have ever met just because she has been kind to me. I truly am pathetic.
I get out of bed and pick up my empty cup to take it over to the sink when my door slams open with a crash that has me jumping out of my skin and screaming, before I spin around to see the woman in question come barrelling through the door and looking around, her shoulders dropping and a breath leaving her when her eyes lock on to mine. I quickly lock down all my thoughts and look towards the floor, feeling my cheeks heat in embarrassment.
“Why the hell is your door not locked, Poppy? Do you know how dangerous that is?” She closes and locks the door with an exaggerated movement that I didn’t even know was possible, and I let out a small chuckle at her dramatics.
“Because people usually knock on the door instead of just barging through it, Kenz.”
She closes her eyes and gives a small shake of her head.
“We can discuss what was wrong with that whole statement later, you need to pack a bag. You’re coming with me to London tomorrow,” she tells me, and my giggles immediately stop. I start to walk towards her and I can see she is serious about this.
“What? Why would I be coming to London with you, don’t you have a job to do there?”
“Yes, I have a job to do, but I still don’t trust the four arsehole musketeers. Especially after the fucking stunt they pulled tonight,” she replies with another shake of her head and eyes full of fire.
“But you told Xave they would leave us alone now that you’ve held a knife to Clay’s throat and shown him you’re the biggest monster under the bed.”
Xave had been really mad when she had spoken to him earlier, and it was hard to tell if he was angrier at them for coming up to us or Kenzi for pulling the knife in a crowded room. But he had finally calmed down when she convinced him that we were in the perfect position that no one saw what had happened and that pulling the knife had finally got the message to sink in that they needed to leave us alone. So why was she now so wound up?
“They should have, yes. I mean, who the fuck is stupid enough to continue to go after someone that has shown you they have no issues with ending your life? I’ll tell you who, The motherfucking Crew, that’s who. Do you want to know what they thought would be a good idea after I had my knife to Clay’s throat? For Clay to get into the ring with me. That is the type of fucking stupid I’m dealing with right now,” she covers her face with her hands and lets out a huff of frustration. “You know, I wouldn’t be having all this fucking trouble if Xave would just let me kill those motherfuckers. I mean right now I’d be happy with maiming them a little bit just to get the fucking point to stick.”
“Wait, what? Clay got into the ring with you tonight?” I walk over to the sink and place my cup down. “What the hell does that even mean, Kenz?
“He made it so that I had no choice but to fight him if I wanted to fight tonight.”
“So you left, right? Please tell me you left and didn’t let them goad you into something you can’t take back, Kenz,” I turn to look at her and rub across the scar on my wrist over my pyjama top as I worry about what Kenzi is about to tell me.
“Well, not exactly. But I didn’t kill him, or hurt him that bad. I just knocked him on his arse a few times before I knocked him out.” She smiles at me, satisfied with the outcome of whatever transpired between them this evening, and I open and close my mouth a few times in utter shock as my heartbeat starts to thump erratically in my chest and I feel the panic start to bubble up inside me.
“This is bad, isn’t it. What am I saying? Of course it’s bad if you want me to go to London with you. You don’t think I’ll be safe here on my own. Are they going to come after me now to get to you?” There’s no way I would be able to defend myself against the Crew. I struggle with getting my lungs full of air as my breaths start to become faster. Kenzi walks over to me and grabs both my hands in hers.
“Breathe, Poppy. If they value their fucking lives, they’re not going to come after you. I will kill each and every one of them if they even think of coming anywhere near you,” she uses her hold on my hands to pull me towards the bed and sit me down, then takes a seat next to me. I look at the floor, certain my face is bright red with my emotions on full display.
She sighs and removes one of her hands from mine, bringing it under my chin and lifting it so I’m looking at her once again.
“Poppy, stop panicking and let me explain,” when she’s sure I’m listening she drops her hand from my chin and grabs my hand once more. “You know how Clay has beenclaimingthat he needed to talk to me? Well, he decided that this would be the way to do it.”
“He got into a fighting ring to talk to you? What did he want to talk about?” I ask her.
“I don’t know. I told him that once I kicked his arse and won he was to leave us alone for good, and in the very unlikely event that he was to win, I would hear him out and listen to what he had to say. Needless to say he was in no state to say anything by the time the fight finished, seen as he was sleeping like a baby in the middle of the ring, and his friends had to carry him out of it,” she says with a smug grin before it drops and her brows furrow in thought.
“So what is that look for then?” I ask her. “If you won, that means they have to leave us alone, right?” She sighs as she looks down at our hands and then back up at me.
“This is so fucking frustrating! I am so out of my depth with all of this, Poppy. Usually, when I’ve got a problem I can just kill it and it goes away, but Clay is a problem I never thought I would ever have to deal with, let alone see on a daily basis,” she sighs and squeezes my hands. “And then there is you. You are mine, and I can’t stand the idea of anything happening to you if I’m not here to protect you. And apart from with Xave, who can pretty much take care of himself, I have not got close to, or protected anyone else, ever. So, these feelings are making me extra paranoid about what could happen, and I need to make plans for any and all potential scenarios.”
I drop my eyes and blush once again at her words, partly in embarrassment at the fact that I’m so helpless, but mainly because of that warm feeling I get whenever she tells me I’m hers. I close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to really be hers. I hear her sigh again and I make sure to lock down the emotions that have risen at her words before looking up at her once more.
“He apologised to me just before he lost consciousness tonight, and it was something I never thought I would get from him, which only served to confuse the fuck out of me, and when the other three came to get him out of the ring I told them I would hear him out, but not to ambush me again. Even though we have a deal, I don’t trust that they will keep their word, Poppy. You have very quickly become important to me, and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from killing everyone if something were to happen to you and I wasn’t here to protect you.”
