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“Fuck no,” Lorcan says darkly. “I can handle myself.”
A chill runs down my spine. I don’t like the thought of where we’re going, and why we’d need any ‘men’ to go there. The crunching of gravel in the distance makes me turn my head. I follow the noise and watch as a black SUV rolls up.
“Ready?” he asks, with a bored expression that shows he couldn’t give a flying fuck if I was or not.
I guess I don’t have a choice but to be ready.
Poppy
As the SUV snakes through the grounds and out of a large, wrought iron gate, something hits me like a ton of bricks. Something I hadn’t considered when I woke up this morning to Lorcan Quinn asking—no, demanding—I get up and get dressed.
We’re in Boston. My hometown. Of course, I already knew we were here, but it’s the first time that I’ve put two and two together.
The shops and cafes and the neighborhoods pass by in a devastating blur of familiarity. We pass the playing fields my school used to hold Sports Day in. Then there is the hill with the fancy houses — I’d always rummage through their trash to find broken treasures. I worked so hard to leave this city behind, yet the man that chained me to it is sitting less than a foot away.
We drive into the Sumner tunnel, plunging us into sudden darkness. In the reflection of the car window, I can see Lorcan watching me.
“Who is he?” I ask.
“Who?”
“The man outside the house. You look alike.”
As we come out of the tunnel, Lorcan plucks the aviators from his top pocket and slides them up the bridge of his nose. “Antoin. My second in command.”
I nod. “He looks scary.”
Jaw set, he turns to stare at me. “Scarier than me?”
An unwanted smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Good,” he grunts back.
We spend the rest of the ride in silence until we pull into the Theater District and come to a stop down an alley. On my side of the car, there’s a steel gray door with two trash cans on either side. My heart sinks. I think it’s pretty safe to assume that’s where we’re going.
“Keep your mouth shut and your smile pretty.”
Suddenly, the partition rolls up, separating us and the driver.Great. What’s better than being in a car with Lorcan Quinn? Being alone in a car with Lorcan Quinn.
“Look at me.” Lorcan’s voice is so quiet that it draws me to him immediately. There’s something unusual clouding his face. Concern? No chance, I must be imagining it. “You’re nervous.”
The lump in my throat is too big to swallow. Maybe it’s because he’s showing something thatalmostresembles humility. “I… please, don’t hurt me,” I choke out. The tears prickle behind my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. My pathetic words are embarrassing enough.
I’m surprised by the deep scowl that dents his forehead. He searches my eyes with confusion, before softening his gaze. His hand reaches for my cheek, and I don’t pull away. “I don’t like you, Miss Murphy,” he says, each word that leaves his lips is short and strangled. “But you’re mine. And nobody gets to hurt what’s mine. And if they do, I will do more than hurt them. Understood?” He stares with such an intensity I find myself nodding. The palm against my cheek feels almost reassuring.
A stray butterfly that didn’t get the memo flutters in my stomach. I nod.
“Good,” he says sourly, reaching past me to open the car door. “Get out. Oh, and Miss Murphy?” I turn to face him. The hardened expression is back. “Don’t even think about running. I found you all the way in California, I’ll find you on my own turf embarrassingly quickly.”
I don’t doubt it.
He steps out of the car and raps on the driver’s window. He murmurs something, and I see the back of the driver’s head nod in agreement.
Then, he comes around to my side of the car and tugs the door open.
Lorcan leads the way to the building, trying the door handle. He rap, tap, taps on the metal door with the irritation of a man that’s never come across a locked door in his life. I watch him, setting his jaw, clenching and unclenching his fists. And when the door rattles and creaks open, he transforms into a completely different Devil.
A broad smile stretches across his hard face, without a trace of his cruel menace. “Mickey,” he says, with a deep nod.
