Here’s To Hope
Friday night church lasted a couple hours, which was normal. Poppy was meeting him at the Grey Bar, so the talk had to happen with his President now; in order to be on time.
“Red you got a minute?” he asked after the brothers had filed out of the temple room. Red gave him a nod, motioning him to sit. Pretty Boy knew this was going be shit, either way he was meeting her tonight. He had to be in her presence, to smell her hair and maybe hold her for at least a minute.
“I got a date tonight, you said if I was gonna be with a woman I had to tell you. It’s just a burger at the bar, nothing more but I promised I’d be straight so that’s it.” He watched Red, waiting for a response. Pretty Boy hoped like hell this wasn’t going to be a fight. Poppy was all he’d wanted for months.
“Okay, you want a shadow or can you behave?” Red asked him seriously.
Behaving was the only thing Pretty Boy could think about, if he got out of line at all she would never speak to him again. It would destroy any humanity he had left if Poppy wouldn’t talk to him anymore. He knew he would go off the deep end.
“I’m good Prez, I won’t hurt her. That I can promise, I’ve wanted her too long.” Pretty Boy really didn’t mean to be quite that forthcoming, he just said what he was thinking and Red knew immediately who the girl was.
That’s when Red grabbed him, dragging Pretty Boy through the back door and throwing one big right hook. It connected with his jaw and split his lip. “That’s just a reminder, she’s not a whore and you don’t treat her like one! Snowman fucked that one up, don’t do that to her too.
“She’s a good girl Darius, and deserves someone equally good. I know what’s inside you. So do you man. You need to be better than that, better than Snowman. Trust me, if you want any kind of decent relationship with this girl you’re gonna have to fix all that shit you carry inside.”
He knew all of this, it was the doing part that was so hard. There were so many things he’d buried, locked away but the nightmares still came. He still saw the faces from his kills, from his father and the men his father had loaned him to for their sick pleasures. Red had called him by his given name and that meant he did really matter to the President. That felt kind of nice. The MC was all he had, and maybe Poppy if he got lucky.
Poppy sat at a high-top table by the pool tables waiting for Pretty Boy and stirring her drink. She ordered vodka on the rocks with a lime and orange slice and a splash of soda. Not knowing what he drank aside from beer she decided to wait on ordering him anything.
They had all been here on numerous occasions and the one thing that always stuck out was how Pretty Boy never looked at the women who were obviously drooling over him. He walked with his shoulders squared and head high but the eyes were always straight ahead. It made her wonder more than once if he was gay or just shy around the ladies.
Poppy noticed she was the only female he would talk to, and even then, he would give her these shy smiles. There was definitely more to him than he let people see. She wondered what could cause such a funny, good looking man to withdraw into himself so much and asking was more than likely not a good idea at this point.
She was just about to pay her tab and go. Thinking she had been stood up when he hurried in and shot directly over to her table.
“I’m sorry! Red kept me later than I thought. You mad?” He asked her hoping he wasn’t too late.
When she smiled, he knew things were okay and he hadn’t just ruined everything. After they ordered food and drinks the conversation started, Poppy initiated it. She wanted to ask about the split lip, but figured that was a conversation for later.
“What’s your real name? I’d like to have something to call you aside from Pretty Boy.” No one had ever bothered to ask him that before. Red knew from bailing him out of jail, but not one of the brothers knew or had even ever asked.
“Darius is my name, Darius Ryker Monaghan. My Ma thought I’d be something special, turns out she was wrong.”
Poppy thought his Mother had been right. Something was hiding under the surface, something really important that he kept well hidden. Whatever it was wasn’t going to show itself tonight, but she could see turmoil in his eyes.
“It’s a nice name, I’m Penelope Ann Robinson and my Mother left me with my Grandmother when I was a week old for babysitting, she never came back. Anyway, thanks for the invite out. It’s nice to get to talk to you without all the brothers around.” She was right; his club mates were a pain in the ass when one of them had a woman.
“Penelope is beautiful, I would a never thought you were anything but Poppy. I really like that name.” The names seemed to break the ice and then they became so lost in conversation neither one saw Snowman walk in until he was standing in front of them. Snowman cocked his head, raising a brow and eyeballing the door.
The challenge had been issued and Pretty Boy knew he couldn’t back down. Not in front of her, that wasn’t about to happen. He left his phone on the table.
“Text Red please, tell him what’s going on so he doesn’t decide tonight is my night to die.”
“What the hell does that mean Darius? Christ!” But she did exactly as he asked her to do. Red answered immediately and told her not to get in the middle, he was on his way. She still had no idea why the mention of dying tonight had come up but Poppy was damn sure going to make someone tell her what that meant.
Pretty Boy stood just feet from Snowman, waiting for the first swing to come. He wasn’t going to be the one who started this. Being on Red’s shit list already, it would be a death sentence if he swung first. For the first time in years he actually wanted to live.
“Scraping, aren’t ya Pretty Boy? Who said I was done with her!” He heard the faint click of a knife opening; just shaking his head he knew Snowman wasn’t trustworthy. It had been mentioned to Red more than once.
“You have no idea who I really am and just what I’m capable of,” Darius warned. “Poppy made this decision all on her own. I asked and she said yes. She did say you got a small dick too.”
That’s when the swipe of the knife came, just grazing his gut. It wasn’t enough to do much damage, just make him bleed and piss Pretty Boy off. This was his favorite t-shirt and it was now done for.
“Red should have put you out of our misery a long time ago Pretty Boy. No woman will ever want your fucked-up self. Poppy should be there for when I need my dick sucked, not anywhere near your bed.” That’s when the next swipe came, he let it connect. The gash in his upper arm would need sewn up, but it was worth not making Red mad.
Poppy ran out to see Snowman with a bloody knife and Pretty Boy bleeding from his arm and abdomen. What struck her first was that he was still smiling and talking all kinds of shit. She knew she was about to interfere in something she didn’t understand; but she couldn’t allow this fight over her.
“Michael stop! What the hell is wrong with you!” She scolded Snowman.
He turned to her with a sadistic grin. That was a look she had never seen on his face before. “Ain’t nothing wrong with me. You see Poppy, that tight, sweet pussy is mine when I want it! You understand that? You belong to me when I want you, this piece of shit isn’t touching you.”
That’s when she got mad, nobody was going to talk to her that way. Poppy knew if she didn’t take his focus away from the fight one of them was about to die and for whatever reason, she knew it was going to be Michael.
“You’re too late Michael, you fucked this up. Pretty Boy is more man than you could ever be, and yes, I know who he is underneath. You see we have talked for months as friends, then after you quit calling, he was there for me. We sat on my porch for hours and he let me in, so don’t try that shit! I know and I don’t care!” Poppy had no idea about his past but it was working well enough to distract Michael. Thankfully Red rode up just then.
“Snowman!” Red yelled, getting his attention and giving him a look that said he was in some serious trouble. “Clubhouse, now!”
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.