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I stare back at them. “They’re in the lounge.” Widening the door to allow them in, I slide down the wall near the hallway table, drawing my knees up to my chest. I don’t know what they’re doing in the other room, but I know I’m going to jail. Iknow that what I thought would happen, obviously hasn’t, and that everything has turned to shit.
The man in the suit kneels down beside me. “Son, there were reports of gunshots. I was in the area, so I thought I’d tag along. You want to tell me what happened here tonight?” Has Poppy come down and I haven’t known?
Shit. Poppy.
“He killed her, so I killed him. Simple.” I stare at the family portrait hanging on the wall. “I came down to see he had already killed her. He didn’t think I could do it.” I shrug. “So I did.”
The smell of Cuban smoke wraps around me, and I shuffle to the side to watch him. He doesn’t look familiar.
“You can take me to jail, but can you please make sure Poppy goes to a good home?”
His eyes come to mine and I follow the mustache that curls around the corners of his lips. “You’re not going to prison, son.” He stands to his feet. “Get up, get your sister, and pack some bags. You’re coming with me.”
“What?” I look up at him again but follow his command. Anything he wants, I do. There’s an air of authority that hangs over him, and I know I have to take him seriously.
“I don’t like to repeat myself, son. Go get your sister, and I’ll meet you both outside.”
Poppy doesn’t pack much even though I tell her to. I break the news to her and hold her as she cries all of her tears into my chest. It’s an hour later that I finally manage to drag her downstairs.
He’s already waiting outside a black SUV, that same cigar burning bright orange in the dark night.
“In the car.”
“How do I know you’re not going to hurt us?”
The man turns over his shoulder and the dimple on his cheek sinks in. “You don’t, but I’m all you’ve got.” He has a point. Opening the back door, I push Poppy in gently, shutting the door once we are inside. He pulls us away from the curb and every now and then, our eyes meet in the rearview mirror.
“Where are you taking us?” I ask when I notice he drives us onto the highway, the one that heads out of town.
“To my house.”
“What? What about my parents?” I could have just directed Poppy into a bad situation. Why haven’t I called the cops? Wait… the copsarehere.
“They’re gone, son. I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here to help you both because, well, shit, I don’t know why.”
“You do,” I say, studying the way the corner of his eyes crinkle as if reliving a memory. “You do know why you saved us.”
His hazel eyes meet mine. “Yes. I guess I do.”
After a few minutes, when I know he’s not going to elaborate further, I add, “So do you usually take in strays?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, he pulls us into a long cobblestone driveway. The entry is lit with two lanterns sitting on high posts, and at the end of the drive is a little tower where a man is parked inside, pushing the button to let his car through.
He pushes the button near his steering wheel, turning in his chair to face me. “Never. But let me lay down some rules to you both being here. One, stay away from my daughter.”Tsk. I don’t bother telling him that I’m not interested. He continues. “And two? I’m never your enemy.” He pushes open his driver’s side door and I shuffle out the back, tucking Poppy beneath my arm. I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but right now all I care about is keeping Poppy safe, and to keep Poppy safe, I need time to think. Worst-case scenario, I’d go to prison. I could live with that knowing that that piece of shit can’t touch her.
Stairs lead to twin doors, and little lantern lights leading the way give a warm entrance into what I’m guessing is probably an equally warm home. I can already hear laughter flowing from the kitchen. I don’t know what I expected when he said he was taking us to his home, but this isn’t it.
The front door opens, and a woman stands on the other side holding a spatula in one hand. Her blonde hair is up in a tight knot on the top of her head, where a white bandana ties to the front. She’s in loose jeans and a blouse slightly unbuttoned at the front, and fuck, but she’s beautiful. Her skin glows against the setting sun behind us, and when her wide hazel eyes meet mine, I feel it in my gut.
“Where’s your mother?” the cop asks, tucking her beneath his arm and kissing her on her head.
She looks between her—I’m guessing father—and me. “Um, she’s in the kitchen. Papa, what?” I realize I still don’t even know his name, but he looks down at me and smiles.
“Don’t you worry about that. How about you go show them the guest rooms so I can handle your mother, and then you can all come down for dinner.” The girl’s cheeks blush when she gives her dad the spatula, closing the door behind us.
“Sure.” She flashes him a wide grin as he disappears through the foyer. I squeeze Poppy tighter beneath my arm. We must look a fucking mess. Blood still clings to my clothes, and I know that if I look down at Pop, she’ll be wearing a blank expression.
“I’m Ruby…” The girl waves her hand in front of herself awkwardly. When I ignore her, she turns slightly. “Okay, anyway, follow me and I’ll show you where you’re both staying.” The house smells like caramel salted popcorn. Music floats through the space as we follow her up the wooden stairs. Family portraits hang on the walls, but nothing like where we just came from. Where the mother we were used to seeing had sadness in her eyes, Ruby’s sparkle with love as she looks up at—
“—What’s your dad’s name?” I ask as we hit the top.
