by Annie Buff
Red could see he wanted to say something, but thought better of it and did what he was told. By this time there was quite the crowd at the door watching the scene unfold in front of them. Pretty Boy had pulled off his shirt and was trying to stop the bleeding on his stomach and arm. Poppy had noticed the crisscrossing scars on his back but stayed put not knowing what she should do. As Michael walked passed her he shot her a look.
“This isn’t over.” He growled as he got on his bike and lit it up with a roar on the throttle. He sped out of the parking lot and down the road.
“Darius, we need to clean you up. Let’s go to my office, you too Poppy. Some things need to be explained.”
Pretty Boy knew Red had an office in the Grey Bar, he owned the place but few knew. They followed Red to the entryway behind the bar and down a hall until they reached the last door. It said Big Red O'Malley on the nameplate.
“Oh shit.” She whispered louder than she had planned and Red just smiled. When he had them both in and sitting, he started talking as he was collecting medical supplies.
“I was a medic in the Army, comes in handy with these assholes. So, Poppy I’m sorry you had to see this here tonight. Snowman will not be bothering you again, I can promise that.” He was telling her this as he cleaned the arm, preparing to stitch him up.
“Meds Darius? You know this is going to hurt.”
He did know but he’d had worse so he just shook his head and reached for her hand. He kept his focus on her eyes while Red drove the needle through his flesh to close the wound.
Through knot after knot the bleeding slowed and by the time the last one was tied Pretty Boy had tears on his cheeks but never once did he make a sound. He wasn’t just good at dishing out pain, he was superb at taking it. His old man had made sure of that. He had taken so much pain and torture, there were days he was surprised he was still able to function.
“You need to tell her Darius, all of it. Let her decide if she can handle it. Don’t hide from her. You know how important it is to be honest.”
Red was right; of course he knew it but if perfect Poppy knew, she would never speak to him again. He was a monster, he knew it and he knew if he didn’t take the contracts he would be uncontrollable.
“What does he mean Darius? What’s all of it? Please don’t hide things from me. I’m stronger than you know.”
He knew she was strong, he had just witnessed her going after Snowman. But his issues were not normal by any stretch of the imagination. Pretty Boy McCoy was a murderer. He killed for money; he killed for revenge, and he killed for therapy.
Red left them to talk. His office was the safest place they could be and he had business he needed to attend to; mainly Snowman and his bullshit. Red was a fair President but this time one of his boys had gone overboard.
“Please Poppy, don’t ask me to tell you what Red meant.” Darius said as he turned his back to her, staring out the office window at the evening stars. She was too pure to be tainted by his past. He felt her behind him, and then felt her delicate hands on his bare skin. She was trying to kill him and this wasn’t a gun or a knife, it was just her affection.
“Darius please? Talk to me please? Don’t shut down, I’ve seen this with you so many times. You’re scared, I wish I knew why you can’t trust me just a little bit.” Poppy lightly kissed one of his scars and walked out, leaving him standing there and feeling more alone than he ever had.
Just her smile made him warm inside as nothing else ever had. He watched her leave the parking lot from the window in Reds office. As the taillights faded into the night the pain started. There was only one way to curb that, and he had a mark waiting for the end.
He hadn’t planned to be so kind as to put the mark out of his misery tonight, but he needed to talk to Poppy. Red was right. Admitting that even to himself was difficult, admitting to her was going to be nearly impossible but he had no choice.
Pretty Boy walked down the creaking stairs in his rented warehouse to the basement area where he had his victim. This man was not really a victim, but a predator. The victim had been his daughter. She had been raped and sodomized by her own father and the courts did nothing, so she had sought out someone to fix her problem.
The man had begged Pretty Boy to not kill him, so instead of slitting his throat he had elected to cut off his penis. That was the weapon he had used on his daughter. That was unacceptable. He had so many nightmares of his father raping him and wished he could have done the same thing to him, so for this young lady he did it. She would never know about the methods he used, only that the job was done.
Once he had snipped tips of his mark’s fingers off with his PEX pipe cutter, the blood started and that would bring the rats. This death wouldn’t be quick, but he was satisfied it would be just.
Pretty Boy went back up those same creaking steps and heard the rustling scurry of the vermin investigating the fresh bloodshed. As he left the warehouse he heard the first scream. The rats had found their dinner and he smirked. Now he felt better, now he was going to see Poppy and hope he had the balls to do it. To tell her about his demons.
The Explanation
Poppy still didn’t understand what had happened tonight. Somewhere inside, Pretty Boy had some serious issues going on. She really did like him so she would have to be patient.
The night was nice, one of those warm spring nights when the stars sparkled in the sky and sitting on the porch steps sounded like a good idea. With her peppermint tea in hand she sat thinking of the night’s events.
Poppy had thought Michael was a good man and tonight he’d proved he wasn’t. Darius wasn’t at all; but somehow she thought, somewhere inside he had it in him. They all did things for the MC that weren’t exactly legal, that was part of the life.
Maybe all the times Michael had joked about the bodies attached to Darius he hadn’t really been joking. Damn did she want to ask him. After tonight she didn’t think he would ever come around again. She was just about to go in for the night when she heard footsteps.
“Poppy.” She knew that voice. It was Darius. She was surprised to say the least. Never in a million years did she think he would show up there. She turned and smiled.
“Didn’t expect to ever see you again Darius.”
He knew, she walked out on him in the office and kept walking. If he had any strength at all when it came to her he wouldn’t be here. But she had become his downfall.
“Yeah, about that: I’m sorry.” He admitted as his hand slid down his face like he was trying to figure out how to say whatever he wanted to get out. “This is hard for me; I’m really fucked up Poppy. I can’t tell you everything. Not yet and maybe not ever, but I can tell you one or two things. That’s about as much as I can handle. Is that okay or should I just go?”
“Don’t go, you want a beer?” He needed much more courage than a beer would give.
“Gin if you have it, if not I’ll take a double of whatever. No mix, no ice.”
Poppy grabbed the Patron and just brought the bottle. Gin wasn’t something she usually had on hand but knowing he liked it she would get a bottle.
He sat on the porch steps, trying to figure out where to start this disaster discussion. Well he thought before anyone told her about the hooker he should.
“I killed a hooker, I didn’t mean to but it happened during… well you know during what.” The first gulp of tequila crossed his lips, then a second. He was certain she had questions so he stopped and waited.
“Is that what you meant about Red killing you? Are you in trouble with him for that?”
She asked questions he didn’t expect. She also asked the ones he was waiting for.
“What happened to make you do that?”
How could he tell her about the flashbacks, the faces that haunted him? Pretty Boy said nothing, just hung his head and waited for her to be disgusted by him.
“Are you going to hurt me Darius? Am I in danger from you?”
He shook his head, he was almost
certain he couldn’t, wouldn’t hurt her. “I don’t think so, I don’t want to. I just want to hold you, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want that. But let me finish this before I puss out.” Pretty Boy waited a minute, taking another swallow of tequila and letting the burn push him forward.
“My old man was a demented fucker Poppy, the shit he did to me was beyond sick. The torture and rape that I endured is incomprehensible. This may be as normal as I’ll ever be, can you understand why I didn’t want you to know?” His cheeks had tears streaming from the memories that still haunted him. To his shock and surprise, she wiped them and put an arm around him.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that, I know there’s more to those stories and someday I hope you can tell me all of it. Can I ask a question?” Of course, she could. He expected a hundred of them.
“Yeah, I’m not sure I can answer them all just yet though. I am trying Poppy, I really am. So, if it’s one I can’t tell yet, can you be patient with me and not run?”
She liked him a lot, more than she already had just because he was trying so hard to open up to her.
“Do you kill people Darius? Michael said you kill people for money.”
That fucker! Snowman was now a dead man walking, he had crossed a line. He crossed so many lines but this one was the last. She didn’t need to know yet, Pretty Boy was hoping she would never find out about that, but she was asking because of that piece of shit Snowman.
He wasn’t making eye contact and had gone mute, Poppy knew by his body language she was right.
“It’s okay, I kinda knew already, and I can deal. Just be straight Darius, I really like you and I think you have so much potential. You’re a good man; you just have to do bad things in the world you live in.”
Those words hit him hard, he wasn’t good in any way. Darius was the epitome of walking disaster, he always had been. Even in the Navy he spent more time in the brig than out. Seal training was something he had aced. Thanks to his old man he could hold his breath for almost six minutes. His father’s favorite punishment was waterboarding, and after weeks of choking and gasping for air he finally learned how to get him to stop. All he had to do was make the five-minute mark and it would end.
“I’m not good Poppy, never have been and never will be. I’ve fucking tried so many things to fix myself!” His tone rose up, not that he meant to, it just happened.
She was beginning to understand him. He had become the abuser from all the torture he had endured as a child. His head still hung forward, how could he tell the one woman he thought he loved just how sick he was.
“Yes.” It was a single word statement from him and she had to think, what was he saying yes to. She had asked a few questions. So which one was he answering?
“Yes what Darius?”
Dammit why did she have to ask, she knew what he was talking about. She had to know, Red said tell her but he had a feeling this shit show was going to be his undoing.
“I kill people Poppy, and I do it for money.”
Poppy didn’t respond, she had to let his words sink in. She already knew but to hear the words from his mouth was slightly shocking. Michael was right, he did kill for money but there had to be more to it than that.
Pretty Boy stepped off the porch and into the yard to pace. This was more than likely the biggest mistake of his screwed-up life. He’d opened up a little and she was going to run, it was almost obvious from her silence. Poppy had to be disgusted with him and there was no way he would blame her. No woman could handle all this, it’s why he always used prostitutes. That was few and far between, usually he could deal with his urges on his own but once in a while a warm body felt good. He could pretend for just that hour he was normal. Even if he knew the truth, the fantasy was nice.
“So, it’s about the money? Or is there more to it than that?” There was so much more to it, Poppy had to know as much. Normal people didn’t kill just for money. For him it was a need, to kill the monster that stole his innocence over and over again.
“No, it’s not the money. Money makes it easier to justify, but it doesn’t have as much to do with it as you’d expect.”
This had to be about his childhood, but how would she be able to ask him. He was still pacing the front yard and was avoiding looking into her eyes. Poppy saw the guilt on his face, he needed someone to feel safe with.
“So, if it’s not money what is it then? I can’t believe there’s not so much more to this Darius. I promise you I’ll keep your secrets safe.”
He just shook his head, finally looking at her. She was actually asking him to confide in her. But how could he? She would never look at him the same if she knew.
“Poppy I can’t, you’ll hate me and I just can’t bear that. I would eat lead if you hated me, you’re the only thing holding me to this world. “This” waving his arms between the two of them, “Whatever this is, is why I can’t tell you. I need you. I have since the first day I saw you. I knew that fuck bag would hurt you. Poppy I hate him and I’d hang him by his intestines if I thought for one minute you’d still be my friend.”
That sounded gruesome, but maybe in his world it was normal. Poppy reached for his hand so he would sit with her. He took a pull off the half empty tequila bottle. She could see the drunk beginning on him. He wasn’t driving anywhere tonight; her couch was comfortable so that’s where he was going to sleep this off.
“Can you tell me more or is it too much already? I swear to you I’m not afraid of whatever it is.”
She might not be but he was. These demons he carried had been with him for so long even he didn’t know how to banish them. Some days he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Pretty Boy held his head in his hands trying to find the right words. She was asking so much of him, even Red didn’t know everything and he’d had to explain too much the night he killed the hooker. That was the last time he had been with a woman. The fear of hurting an innocent had overridden his male urges, so he had been handling things himself.
Then came perfect Poppy, and he’d lost all reason. She and her incredible figure had been the star of so many fantasies. She was tiny, but had curves where a woman should and he had so many dreams of holding her hips and taking her from behind.
“Poppy, you sure you want this? I mean to be part of this shit show that’s my life? I’m so fucked up. I have no idea how this will go, I just don’t know.”
She leaned over and gently kissed his cheek, watching his closed eyes and listening to the soft groan. “I want this Darius,” she whispered against his cheek. “I promise I can handle whatever comes with having you in my life.”
He truly did appreciate her trying, in the end she wouldn’t be able to stay by him. Once she witnessed his nightmares, found him crying in a corner of a blackened room she would go. That he was almost positive of, but for now he would take whatever she would give.
Keeping Poppy
Over the next couple of weeks, things seemed normal in his world. Poppy was still there and his pain had lessened. Pretty Boy still had the nightmares and he figured he always would. He’d taken to sleeping on Poppy’s sofa, he had the utmost distrust for Snowman so if he knew she was alone he may try to hurt her.
That was something he couldn’t allow. No one was putting their hands on her. Pretty Boy would make sure no man touched her, unless it was him and that thought scared him. He couldn’t be sure one way or the other, so he just didn’t try. She liked holding his hand, he liked it too. Her warmth seemed to heat him in places he didn’t know he had. He had asked Red to help him after yet another debacle with Snowman.
Red had been watching him for several weeks, he was now seeing things the other brothers had mentioned before. He’d overheard him on the phone, telling the recipient of the conversation the address and routine of one Miss Poppy Robinson. Snowman wasn’t going to get his hands dirty, he would have another do that. Red had planned to hold the two men after temple, something had to give.
Pretty Boy
had noticed Poppy wasn’t her same bubbly self, she had been more tired than usual and slightly nauseous. He had attributed it to the flu bug that had been going around. But it had been a few weeks and she was still feeling the same.
He wasn’t a genius and it didn’t take one to figure out what the problem was. Poppy had to be pregnant, he knew who the father was but Pretty Boy didn’t care. His perfect Poppy was going to have a baby. He stopped back by her house before temple, needing to ask for sure.
“Hey Darius.” She smiled while wiping what looked to be the remnants of vomit from her mouth.
“Poppy, are we having a baby?” His question floored her, Poppy thought she had hidden it well enough but apparently not. She really did adore him and what man in his right mind would raise another man’s child.
“For now, yes I’m pregnant. But I made an appointment at the clinic for next week. I’m so sorry Darius, I was on the pill and never expected this to happen.”
He just shook his head, this wasn’t anything to be sorry for. She was going to be a mother.
“Why are you going to the clinic? Is this a baby check?” She didn’t say anything and the answer became apparent. Poppy was going to terminate her pregnancy.
“Fuck Poppy no! Please don’t do that, I can be good for you and the baby. I’ll be a good Dad, please don’t kill the baby.”
Standing dumbfounded Poppy just stared with her mouth wide open. Darius couldn’t possibly understand what he was saying. “You do understand who the father is right? How can I possibly keep this baby Darius?”
“I am, that’s my baby Poppy. And yeah, I know you have to have sex to make one, but in my mind I’ve made love to you so many times. I’ve kissed your plump, beautiful lips. Stripped you down and touched you everywhere and I was gentle and loving. I didn’t hurt you. I want this, I want you Poppy. I know I’m still a mess, but I’m trying really hard to be better. Please! I’ll beg if I have to, you know how I feel about you. I’m still scared, but I swear to fucking God I’ll be a good Dad and a good man, a good husband to you.”
