Claiming Her Innocence

by Vivian Wood

  “The knight in shining armor. I’ve been expecting you,” Will said with a smug grin. Ryan’s fist pounded through Will’s face smooth and fast. He could feel teeth give. “What the fuck?” Will sputtered through the blood that poured down his neck.

  Wildly, Will tried to fight back, to land his own punch, but Ryan easily ducked out of the way. His military training took over.

  Ryan hit him again squarely, in the neck. Will hit the floor where he gasped for breath on all fours. “Like the jackal you are,” Ryan said. He kicked him in the stomach which dropped Will all the way down.

  Will pushed himself onto his back, and Ryan was on top of him. He couldn’t stop himself and hit him once, twice more. Will wiggled his arms free and held them in front of his face. “Okay, man,” Will said through gasps. “You win. Okay?”

  “It’s not okay,” Ryan said. Will looked up at him through busted glasses and what seemed like buckets of blood. He was broken, finished. Ryan could see that, and he stood up slowly. His hands ached and were covered in the warm slickness of Will’s blood. You’ve done what you need to. No more.

  “You have three minutes to get out. For good,” Ryan said. “Get your shit, and get out.”

  Will scrambled like mad and gathered up his things. Ryan surveyed the room and breathed in. Poppy’s scent filled his lungs. He noticed the ring on the table, but Will didn’t even glance at it. Instead, he cradled his precious laptop bag in his arms like a child.

  As Will moved toward the door, cowed down with his head heavy, Ryan blocked the doorway with his arm. Will stopped, dutiful, and braced himself for another hit. “The keys,” Ryan said.

  Will paused, and perhaps he even considered a lie. After a moment, he dug into his pocket and dropped Poppy’s apartment keys in Ryan’s hand.

  Ryan followed him all the way to his car. On the landing below them, he saw the neighbor’s curtains flutter. He supervised Will as the laptop bag was placed in the back seat. When Will got into the driver seat, the window was already down, and he somehow knew not to start the engine just yet.

  Ryan leaned down and rested his forearms on the door. “I don’t ever want to see you again,” he said.

  Will nodded, but didn’t speak. “If I see your face again, or if Poppy sees or hears anything from you, you’re finished.”

  Will nodded again and blinked hard.

  “And I don’t mean,” Ryan said slowly, “that I’m just going to beat your pussy ass again. That would be too easy.”

  Will stopped breathing, but didn’t dare look at Ryan.

  “And don’t think about doing something stupid. Like call the police and say you got slapped around a little. That’s what you were thinking, right?”

  Will didn’t respond, but his thoughts were written across his face.

  Ryan laughed. “You’re unbelievable! You don’t think all those bruises on Poppy’s face have been documented? That there aren’t already photos? Tell the police, and all it would take is them seeing one of those photos and you’d be done for.”

  Will’s eyes grew big. He hadn’t even considered that. What a moron. “But me?” Ryan said as he stretched his neck from side to side. “I’m not a big fan of the police. Not when things can be settled without their interference. You know? I said, did you know?”

  “No,” Will said quietly. His voice shook, like a little boy’s.

  “I figured as much. You’re kind of stupid,” Ryan said. “But just so you know, if Poppy or I do hear from you again? Or if you call the police? You know what will happen?”

  Will was quiet.

  “I said, do you know what will happen?”

  Will shook his head.

  “I’ll find you. And I’ll kill you.”

  Will sucked in his breath.

  “Trust me, I have nothing better to live for than to make sure Poppy is free of you.”

  “I get it,” Will said. “I get it.”

  “Good. Run along now,” Ryan said.

  He watched the car until the taillights disappeared down the street. Leaves crackled behind him, and he turned. The neighbor who’d caught him waiting for Poppy, the one whose curtains fluttered, was wrapped in a robe with her arms crossed over her ample chest. “You did good,” she said.

  “I don’t know,” Ryan said.

  “I do,” she said. Her hair was wrapped and she kicked at the concrete in pink fuzzy slippers. “Been watching that boy stalk that poor girl like she was some obstinate child for years. Couldn’t do nothin’ myself, of course. But it’s good he’s gone. You did her right.”

  “I hope so,” Ryan said.

  She put her hand on his arm. It was smaller and softer than he expected. “Don’t doubt yourself,” she said. “We all need some protecting sometimes. That poor girl… killing herself with her work. Lonely as hell, I could tell. I shoulda—I shoulda reached out to her.”

  Ryan looked at her sadly. “If anyone should have seen more, done more, it was me,” he said. “I left her. After all those years we had, I just left her.”

  “Loneliness. Ain’t it somethin’.”

  They walked back up the stairs together. The woman took his hand and squeezed it at her door.

  Ryan continued up the stairs to clean up any traces of blood—and Will's presence. As he poured hydrogen peroxide on the splatters on the carpet, he drank in every piece of Poppy the room carried. Her favorite gray, wool jacket that hung on the hook. The aroma of sweet cream from her favorite lotion that lingered in the air. She’d used the same one since they were teenagers.

  He rinsed the rag and dropped it in the washing machine. As he locked up with Will’s old key, he couldn’t help but think, This might be the last time I’m here. Remember it all, every detail. This is Poppy’s home.

  32

  Poppy

  Voices in the living room stirred her awake. Where am I? It took her a minute to recognize Sarah’s bedroom. Her face was swollen, puffy and painful. A headache started to throb at her temple as the painkillers from a few hours ago wore off.

  Poppy groaned and rolled over. On the dresser was a display of framed photos. Prominently near the center was a snapshot of Sarah and her from years ago. They hugged each other tight and grinned into the camera.

  “I don’t know,” she heard Sarah say in the living room. “I couldn’t tell if she…”

  Poppy couldn’t make out what was being said as the voices rose and fell. She swung her legs off the mattress and flexed her knee. It was swollen and still painful, but it seemed like it was minor. Thank God it’s not a torn tendon or ligament.

  In the living room, Sarah and Ryan sat on opposite ends of the couch. “Hey, good morning,” Sarah said with a smile. “I’ve, uh, I’ve got some shopping to do. I’ll bring back breakfast in a bit.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Really, I have some errands to run. I just wanted to make sure you were awake before I left. The spare key’s here, okay?” she asked as she tossed a keyring into the bowl by the door.

  Poppy walked up to her and embraced her. “Thank you,” she said.

  Sarah laughed. “It’s no big thing,” she said.

  “It is.” She glanced at Ryan. “Just a minute,” she told him, and followed Sarah into the hallway.

  “What is it?” Sarah asked as she hitched her purse up her arm. Poppy crossed her arms, barefoot in the vacant hallway and made sure nobody was around.

  “I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me,” Poppy said sheepishly.

  “What in the world are you talking about?” Sarah looked at her quizzically.

  “You know, you have to. About Ryan… and me… ”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not blind,” Sarah said. “He told me last night. But, really P, it’s okay. I wish you would have told me, of course. Before… all this—”

  “I know,” Poppy said. “I’m really sorry. I just… I didn’t plan it. You know?”

  “I know,” Sarah said. “And Ryan and I, we had some fun. But that's all
it was. I think we both knew that.”

  “So you’re not mad?”

  “Never,” Sarah said. “But really, you two should go talk. I’ll be back when the dust settles.” She turned and loped down the hallway.

  Poppy took a deep breath before opening the door. Ryan sat on the edge of the couch. He looked nervous. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded and sat in the chair, suddenly shy. But he wasn’t.

  Ryan stood up and cupped her chin in his hand. His thumb brushed lightly over the bruise that flanked her eye. Even there, in Sarah’s apartment and after everything, that little touch was enough to send sparks through her. “You look hot in that outfit,” Ryan said with a smile.

  She looked down and laughed. It was Sarah’s old cheerleading T-shirt from high school, and reached to just above her belly button. “There weren’t many options,” she said.

  “I can think of a few options.” He picked her up swiftly and swung her over his shoulder. Poppy squealed as he carried her to Sarah’s bed and the shirt rode up to her collarbone.

  “Ryan! Put me down,” she laughed.

  “As you wish.” He tossed her on the bed and looked at her hungrily. Her bare breasts were exposed, and she moved to pull the shirt down. “Don’t,” he said. In one movement, he whipped the shorts off of her.

  Ryan dropped to his knees beside the bed and placed her feet over his shoulders. Slowly, he worked his way from her calves to her thighs, one at a time, and kissed every bruise.

  Poppy sighed and let her head drop back. When his mouth reached her mound, he kissed his way around up her hip bone and across her stomach. She moaned in frustration that he didn’t even touch her where she wanted him most. As he worked his way up, he kissed the scattering of bruises on her chest she hadn’t even noticed from the night before.

  At her neck, his kisses became slower and longer. Finally, he reached her jawline and kissed along her cheek to the corner of her eye. “All better,” he whispered. She pushed her pelvis against him, hard. “Did I forget something?” he asked her.

  She wanted him, needed him, more than anything. He moved to roll off of her, to undress, but she couldn’t wait that long. She unzipped his jeans and pulled out his heat, his hardness, and immediately slid it into her. “Poppy,” he gasped, and she clenched him tight. Every thrust brought her close to orgasm. The roughness of the denim on her clit was a pleasurable contrast to her own slick softness. “Slower,” he said. “Slower.”

  She obeyed, since she’d had a taste of what she craved so desperately. Ryan slid his hands under her and flipped them over. He didn’t need to pull out of her, and suddenly she was on top of him. He reached down and unbuckled the remainder of his jeans and she rose up to help him slide them down. As he kicked them off, he pulled his shirt over his head. “It feels so good,” she said as she bit her lip and let her head fall back. “You feel so good.”

  She looked down at him and memorized every part of him. She loved how he clenched his jaw when she took him all the way in, how he never quite closed his eyes all the way. Poppy reached behind and grazed his balls with her fingers, elicited a moan from him. “Come here,” he said. “I want you to ride my face.”

  Poppy climbed off him, turned around and flanked his face with her thighs. He wrapped his arms around her legs and she lowered herself to his mouth. With her hands braced on his chest, she began to rock against his lips and tongue. His cock, wet with her juices, begged for her mouth—and she wanted nothing more than to feel his hardness against her tongue.

  As she leaned forward to take him in her mouth, he slid a finger inside her and hit her G-spot. Poppy swirled her tongue around his tip and tasted his pre-cum mixed with her own sweetness. She could tell Ryan tried not to press into her mouth, tried to be gentle with her. But she wanted to take him all the way into her throat.

  “God, Poppy,” he whispered from between her legs. His finger still stroked her G-spot, but he whipped his head to the side and bit lightly into her thigh. Instantly, she missed his tongue on her clit and rubbed automatically against him, fucking his face, and he brought his mouth back to her.

  Ryan knew her body like no other—even better than she did. When she got close to coming, he slowed down, removed his finger and outlined her rim instead. She never let go of him, couldn’t get enough of tasting his cock. “Turn around,” he said. When she stood on her knees, she almost fell, she was so weak from having him.

  As she straddled him again, he guided himself into her. He filled her completely and she whimpered.

  She’d never felt anything like it, not even in the prior times with Ryan. There was a freedom between them that made it even sweeter. They didn’t have to hide anymore.

  Ryan propped himself up and grabbed onto her thighs. When she rocked forward, took him in deeper, he licked and sucked at her nipples. “You’re so wet,” he told her. She held onto the bed frame and pushed him even deeper inside her.

  She was on the brink, ready to come when he stopped her. Ryan held onto her waist tightly and commanded her movement. It was almost painfully slow, how he lifted and lowered her onto him—sucking and kissing her nipples, moving back and forth between each breast.

  Poppy dug her nails into his shoulders. “I’m close,” she whispered.

  “I know.” He released one of his arms and a wave of intense pleasure shot through her as he brushed a thumb across her clit. “Come with me, Poppy,” he said, and moved his hands to her ass.

  With his hands gripped on her ass, she rode him hard once more. Right as she was on the edge, he called out her name and spilled himself into her. The tremors brought her quickly to orgasm and she felt the now-familiar soaking between them. He pulled her head away from his neck and looked at her. “I love you,” he said, his throbbing inside her bringing on another orgasm.

  “I love you,” she said. It was automatic, yet she knew that she meant it.

  They lay sprawled across the bed, side by side. She curled into the crook of Ryan’s arm and traced her fingers across his chest. “I meant it,” he said, and looked at her. “I love you, Pops.”

  “You mean as more than friends?” she teased.

  He laughed and slapped her ass lightly. “Yes.”

  “I love you, too,” she said, and bit her lip. “But aren’t you worried? About our friendship?”

  “How could I be?” he asked.

  “How could you not?” She brought herself onto an elbow and faced him. “I’ve been thinking about this fork in the road for weeks. Who knows? Maybe even months or years. It’s not… you and I, it’s not what I had planned. Or expected. I just… I didn’t know what kind of future we'd have together.”

  “Didn’t?” Ryan asked.

  “Yes, and now? Now it’s like there’s a third option. It’s not just ‘the unknown’ or Will anymore.”

  “Oh? You got another guy lined up in the wings?” he asked with a smile.

  “Don’t be stupid,” she laughed. “I mean you. It’s you.”

  “And do you think you could be happy with this path?”

  Poppy grinned and kissed him. “I think so,” she said. “I guess we’ll just have to find out.”

  33

  Poppy

  The next day, Poppy drove to the hospital, occasionally checking her makeup in her rearview mirror. Work normally put her in a good mood, or at least kept her distracted, but today she was dreading having to go in. She hadn’t had time to get anyone to cover her rotation for her though. Between the fight with Will, her escape to Sarah’s apartment and falling apart in Ryan’s arms, and then what had happened after... Poppy felt her face flush at the memory.

  Still, she thought she looked okay. Sarah had helped her conceal the bruising on her face with foundation and powder. The rest of the bruises would be covered up by her scrubs and the long shirt she'd put on underneath. That wouldn’t attract any attention, no matter what the weather was like outside. Most of the hospital staff wore long shirts, even thermals, underneath their
scrubs in response to the frigid temperatures set to keep germs at bay. How convenient, Poppy thought, rolling her eyes.

  She pulled into her parking spot and turned off the ignition, pausing for a minute to take a few deep breaths. She checked the rearview mirror again. Sarah had skillfully applied makeup, but Poppy could still see the bruises underneath.

  Oh well. Nothing to be done about it. She blinked back tears. You cannot cry your makeup off right now, she told herself sternly. A few more deep breaths, then she felt her pulse slow.

  When she felt she’d regained some control of her emotions, Poppy got out of her car and walked into the hospital, distracting herself with the familiar ritual of attaching her I.D. badge and hanging her stethoscope around her neck. She caught a glimpse of the inscription of her initials on the bell of the instrument.

  Ryan had given her the stethoscope years ago, when she had first started medical school. At the time, she’d rolled her eyes, thinking only of how many years it would be before she’d even need it. Still, Ryan had made her wear it, and had shown her the initials he’d paid to have engraved on the bell.

  “If hospitals are anything like the military, people will steal your stuff in a second unless it’s marked as yours,” he’d commented, grinning at her.

  She smiled at the memory as she walked into the hospital, then groaned inwardly as she spotted Penny in the hallway by the nurses' station. Poppy really didn’t feel like getting into anything with Penny right now. She made a quick U-turn and took a back route to her first patient’s room, scanning the patient’s electronic chart as she walked.

  Poppy recognized the patient, a diabetic teenager who’d come in a few times before, most recently with a concussion incurred during a blood sugar spike. As Poppy reviewed the chart, she felt her self-consciousness disappear, replaced by the authority of her medical training.

  “How’s the head, Cherise?” she asked.