CHAPTER FOUR
Like a felon walking to an execution chair, Poppy started moving her slippered feet one foot in front of the other. Her jaw flexed, and her eyes glared at the back of Cassander’s head until she silently took the empty seat next to him. She placed her forearms on the bar and started cracking each finger while eyeing the selection of liquor behind my frozen, shocked frame.
She was the feminine version of Cassander. They both looked like stepped on shit.
I cleared my throat, and muttered, “Since I guess dress codes are irrelevant tonight, what can I get you, Poppy?”
Poppy’s brown eyes flicked to me, recognition dawning on her features. “Damn, I didn’t notice you.” Her voice even sounded hoarse, either from disuse or from too much use. I wasn’t sure which.
“Yeah, you were too busy eyeing him.” I flicked a finger at Cassander but shrugged off the comment like it didn’t mean anything. Instead, I commented, “Let me guess. You’ve been on vacation too for the last month.”
That did it.
I had a pair of silver eyes and a pair of brown eyes roving up and down my frame looking for the best place to stick me with their blades. Even though Poppy looked like she’d been in a coffin for the last month, I didn’t doubt she had some knives tucked away in her pajamas. There was an unusual lump on her right thigh under the black silk, and I knew she liked to keep her blades there.
I smiled full of cheer, letting it reach my eyes as I opened my arms wide. “So you’re obviously here to drink. What would you like?”
“Some fucking privacy,” she hissed. Her red head of tangled curls turned in Cassander’s direction, her glare focused full force on his profile. “I can’t get rid of Alaric. And now? It’s you. Both of you can leave me the hell alone. I came to this bar thinking I’d be alone here. It’s out in the middle of nowhere.”
I lifted a finger. “Actually, as I’m sure you noticed, there are a lot of buildings being built nearby. Businesses are popping up all along the street.”
Neither one listened to me as I tried to defuse the situation.
Cassander took a drink of his beer as he flicked a look of pure hatred at her. “I was here first. You get the fuck out, Ms. Carvene.”
There was enough venom in his tone that all those men who had been eavesdropping before were now back to staring, blatantly watching as Mr. Godric King’s girlfriend and Mr. Godric King’s brother went toe-to-toe with verbal bashing.
“I. Will. Not.” Poppy tapped her knuckles on the bar. Hard. “This is my first day out in forever. I’m not wasting it. And my goddamn name is Poppy!”
His narrowed silver eyes dipped down to her attire. “You’re going to cause a scandal.” He paused for full effect. “Ms. Carvene.”
She bared her teeth at him, and then growled, “Fuck whoever writes shit about me.”
“It’s not just about you,” he hissed, leaning forward. “Or haven’t you done enough damage already?”
Poppy visibly flinched. Her mouth thinned and her eyes teared up. “Goddammit, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’ve told you that repeatedly. How many more times do I have to tell you this? I thought I could help you guys.”
“A lot of help that was.” He snorted in contempt.
Her nostrils flared at his tone. “Just kill me then. Get it over with.”
My eyes widened in shock, hearing the seriousness in her voice. I waved my hands in the air, asking a little too loudly, “Guys, guys! How about we all take a little break? The next drink is on me.”
Desperate times call for desperate actions. Like dipping into my checking account to save a redhead who had clearly lost her mind. Poppy Carvene was strong and fierce, not someone who backed down. Certainly not to death.
What the hell had happened to her?
Still, they both ignored me.
Cassander’s jaw flexed as he ground his teeth together, his eyes never leaving hers. “Is that an official request?”
“It is.” Her chin tipped up.
“Officially denied,” he spat. He shook his head hard, getting right in her face. “Don’t you understand at all why you acted the way you did? You keep giving me excuses except for the right one. Your damn father is General Carvene. I’m sure you learned about it at some point in time.”
Red brows instantly puckered in confusion.
His glaring eyes roamed her face. “PTSD. You were thrown into our world and couldn’t handle it. Not the scary parts some fucker is throwing at us. A soldier plus traumatic events, the same traumatic events over and over, can result in post-traumatic stress disorder.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I know what PTSD is. I don’t have that.”
Cassander’s jaw muscles flexed again. “We all knew you had it. Including God. But he was too pussy-whipped to talk to you about it when he should have. And that fucking day, the day you decided to finally fight your mental battle, was a day you shouldn’t have. And that is why I haven’t killed you for what you did. It wasn’t your fault.” He lifted a finger and thumped her forehead—not gently. “But you still need to own up to your shit. You were sick. You’re fine now, for the most part. So own how you were and quit acting like you did it to ‘help’ everyone else. Your actions were mentally selfish, your mind’s way of helping…you.”
I shut my jaw with a snap, my eyes flicking back and forth between them.
Poppy swallowed, her head even tipping back with it. Her brown eyes were unblinking as she questioned, much more quietly—hesitantly, “If that’s all true, then why do you hate me?”
He sucked in a harsh breath and turned his head, his eyes down on the glass of beer he was strangling with his fingers. Cassander hissed, “Because you’re the easy outlet. I have a job to do, and I can’t do it until I know you understand it has to be done.”
She swiveled back to face the bar in an instant, and crooked both arms, placing her forehead in her gripping hands. Poppy pulled at her hair, whispering toward the bar in anguish, “Isn’t there some other way to fix this?”
Cassander’s eyes returned to ice staring straight over my shoulder at nothing. He took a calm sip of his beer, before answering, “Not without me going dark, going insane. And you don’t want that, Ms. Carvene. This world couldn’t handle it if I went off the deep end.”
Her shoulders sagged. I barely heard her breathe. “Then don’t wait for me. Just do what you have to.” She shuddered where she sat, her entire body trembling. “Living like this…is killing me. We’re only putting off the inevitable.”
The man took another drink of his beer, his own voice quieting. “I can’t.”
“Why?” Such pain in one word.
“Because I’m not ready yet either.”
Poppy rubbed at her forehead and didn’t speak further.
When it appeared they had finished their crazy-ass personal what-the-fuck-was-going-on talk, I took a tentative step forward. I rubbed at the back of my neck and flicked angry glares at each of the other occupants who were blatantly eavesdropping on them. They gradually turned away and started their own gossiping conversations, and I returned my attention to the two in front of me.
I questioned softly, “How about a bottle of whiskey for the two of you?”
Poppy released one hand from her forehead, not bothering to look up. She raised two fingers into the air. Her tone was one of defeat. “Two bottles. It takes a lot to get us drunk. Come back in another half hour and give us two more.”
Cassander grunted and downed the rest of his beer. His voice was guttural like it was pulled through rusted barbed wire. “Put it on my tab.”
I blinked. “All right.”
I almost felt bad taking the fifty percent tip from him. Almost.
* * *
Leaning on a broom, one of the three other bartenders asked, “What the hell are we supposed to do with those two?”
“Leave them to me,” I mumbled while I dried the last of the glasses. “I know someone they both trust to take them home.”
All the customers were gone, an hour past closing time. Except for the two drunks with their heads resting against the bar—out cold from too much liquor. Cassander and Poppy hadn’t said another word to each other the entire night while I waited on other customers. The two had sat there, side-by-side and facing forward, just drinking the bottles I kept putting in front of them. A total of four bottles like Poppy had asked for.
The manager of the bar looked up from the mini-pad and the receipts he was tallying, then ordered with dryness coating his tone, “Get it done and get out of here.”
My hand paused, the rag in my hand clenched in my fist. “You’re firing me?”
He couldn’t do that. I hadn’t done anything wrong—tonight.
His eyes went skyward. “No, I’m not firing you. I meant get the high clientele out of here before someone decides to ransack the bar to kidnap them.”
I stared. “Damn. I didn’t even think of that.”
He snorted. “Ms. Carvene didn’t come with guards looking like that. If anything, it looks like she snuck out a damn window or some shit to get here. The last thing I need is Mr. King suing my business if his precious girlfriend goes missing.”
I set the glass and rag down and headed to the back room for privacy. “I only need to make a call. Then we’ll be gone.”
“Tell whoever is picking you up to make it quick,” he grouched, his eyes traveling back down to the mini-pad. “And don’t forget to get your tips first. They’re… excessive… tonight.”
I smirked as the door shut behind me. Then I tapped on my silver bracelet, ordering, “Call: Rune Mason.”
It vibrated against my wrist as he purred, “Hello, beautiful. Miss me already?”
My grin increased, but I focused on the matter at hand. “Hey, stud. This isn’t a booty call.”
The intimacy vanished from his tone. “Is something wrong?”
“Eh, not with me. But I do need you to come to the bar. I’ve got two drunks who are passed out that need a ride home.”
“You’ll need to clarify that a bit more. Why would I be taking them to their home?”
“It’s Cassander and Poppy.”
He didn’t respond.
I glanced at my bracelet, asking, “Did I lose you?”
He grunted. “No. I’m here.”
“Are you coming to get them?” I asked, my brows furrowing.
“Of course. Alaric and I are at God’s house right now, so I’m a little confused.”
My lips began twitching. “She snuck out of her own home?”
“Yep. Apparently, she’s not as lethargic as we thought.”
My boss had been right. “How long until you’re here?”
“About ten minutes.”
“All right. See you then.”
“Wait. Do you need a ride?” he asked casually.
I chuckled with soft humor. “Real smooth there, stud.”
His own snicker flittered into my ears. “The offer still stands, though.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’ll take it. See you in ten.”
“Bye, beautiful.” The call ended.
I had to collect myself so I wasn’t smiling like a fool before I entered the bar proper again. My co-workers would definitely wonder what the hell was going on if I skipped into the bar like a kid with her first lollipop. I cleared my throat, plastered a bored expression on my features, and went to claim my tips.