Chapter 47

Poppy

I shouldn ' t be surprised by the voice. This place is where souls depart the earth, and what do demons love? Claiming souls. This is Andrew ' s playground.

Everything in me freezes except my sweat glands, which suddenly decide to emulate the icy cold waters that flooded the Titanic.

You wouldn ' t know it ' s Andrew; a large sunhat conceals his hair, his eyes obscured behind safety glasses, but it ' s the mask that truly disguises him. It covers his face to protect him from the paint-cleaning fumes and also from those hunting him.

" I taught you how to do that. Feel small. Apologize even when you didn ' t need to," Andrew says, his satisfaction hanging in the air like a heavy perfume that makes me want to vomit.

He did teach me that. Some lessons stick harder than others.

Finally, I can react. Unfortunately, Andrew does too.

I turn, eyes wide, to shout at Henry to run, but Andrew ' s fast. He pulls a gun from his bucket and grips my arm tightly. I ' m kneeling, so my balance is off, and I end up falling right into him.

I see the horror on Henry ' s face. He starts to move toward me, but then I feel it—the cold metal of the gun pressed against my cheek.

Henry freezes, his face flushed, eyes wide with a terror that will haunt me forever.

Andrew rips off the hat, glasses, and mask.

The shock and fury wash over Henry ' s face. His hand twitches.

Andrew clicks his tongue. " I ' ll shoot her," he threatens.

Henry stops reaching for his phone.

Andrew laughs. " Henry Moore, it ' s good to see you again. It's so good we could make this a family reunion. And look, we ' re all here: your parents and your brother." Andrew mockingly laughs.

With a harsh jerk, Andrew forces me into his lap and leans against Peter's headstone. He uses the stone that represents my brother as if it were his shady palm tree on a peaceful beach. His arm snakes around my stomach, his hand brushing the underside of my breast.

" Go, Henry," I mutter in sharp, short breaths.

" Go?" Andrew snorts. " And miss all the fun?" He chuckles darkly. " Stay, Henry. It won ' t disappoint."

" Let her go," Henry snarls, stepping forward.

Andrew shoves the barrel of the gun deeper into my cheek. I have to part my jaw to try and alleviate the pain.

" Stop!" Henry pleads, raising his hands in surrender.

" Aren ' t you going to ask how I did it?" Andrew asks Henry, taunting him.

Henry ' s eyes narrow. He ' s forced to play along. " How did you do it?" he asks, trying to pacify Andrew, but his eyes are wild. Feral and dark.

That look on my brother's face is why I didn ' t go to him the night of the party. Deep down, I knew there was an untamed nature inside of my brother. A little push and a big shove would release it.

Henry's trying to contain it now, for my sake and also because he can. Whoever the dark angel is that found him the night he ran away must have taught him how to restrain his demons. I ' m thankful for that.

" My dad knew The Obsidian Order was coming, and fuck, he ' s so annoying when he panics. I couldn ' t stand it, so I shut him up. Ironic because Dad taught me how to kill." Andrew snickers, "I don't think he ever imagined I'd be brave enough to kill him. Sometimes, my dad couldn't see what was in front of him. I was a wild creature; you can't tame us forever. We end up lashing out. Did you like the scene I left? I tried to make it bloody, but time wasn't on my side, so I aimed the gun where I knew it would be messy, saving his head for last."

I close my eyes.

Don't listen.

"I barely managed to get away from The Obsidian Order, but I did," Andrew gloats, a sinister gleam in his voice that sends waves of nausea through me.

That's twice he said Obsidian Order.What does that mean? Focus on that and not his other details, Poppy.

This cemetery, a place where souls are meant to find peace, has become Andrew's playground.

I feel a chill that has nothing to do with the breeze. He ' s planning to end it all here. I ' m not scared of dying—it ' s leaving Henry, Harper, and Julian to mourn again that terrifies me.

" I warned you, Poppy—if you did anything stupid, I ' d take action," Andrew shakes me, the weight of his delusion thick in the air. "So, I burned down your house. I lost my father, so it was only fair you lose the memory of yours."

He buries his nose in my hair, inhaling my scent. " Why ' d you do it, baby? Everything was planned perfectly. We would've been happy. You see, I knew my dad was planning to marry me off. If he knew how in love we were, he ' d have killed you. I had to break it off, make him think I ' d left you. Don't you see I was always there keeping you safe?"

He makes an insane person look like Einstein.

"I played along with my dad's game. I pretended to be happy to marry whom Dad picked all for his political gain. Oh, the irritation of having to fuck Kimberly when all I wanted was you. I know that made you mad, baby. I know that's the only reason you fucked Julian. You wanted to get back at me. I forgive you." He kisses the top of my head, and I consider shaving it bald to erase his lips from my hair.

"I always imagined it was you when I was with Kimberly. I know you did the same when you were with Julian. I had it all timed perfectly. I couldn ' t kill Kim too soon, or Dad would just replace her. I waited, then after I killed her, I planned to wait just a bit longer. The public would be clamoring to see me happy again. Then you and I would secretly elope; Dad couldn't argue because I would have leaked it to the press, and he wouldn ' t dare kill another wife of mine. Don ' t you see, baby? We were so close to our happy ending," he murmurs, his fingers painfully tight on my hips.

Henry ' s torso leans forward, his face etched with concern, but Andrew shakes his head.

I glance at Henry, trying to piece together a plan, but with the gun to my face, every option leads to disaster. Julian... Harper... I might never see them again.

I fight back tears; I won ' t let Andrew savor my fear.

" That asshole tricked you, made you think you loved him. You don ' t. I know you love me, but you're too scared to admit it. Admit it, Poppy," Andrew ' s voice is a harsh whisper, grating against my ear.

I want to scream, but Henry ' s pleading eyes catch mine, his desperation clear. I give the slightest shake of my head, the movement restricted by the gun pressed to my cheek. The grass beneath my heels feels unsteady, but my resolve is firm.

" I never loved you," I manage to say, turning my head slightly to ease the gun out of my flesh, my voice firm despite the tremor I feel. " I feared you. Fear isn't love."

" Fear is respect. Respect is love," Andrew hisses back, his logic twisted and dark.

" Just do it," I spit out, my patience fraying.

" Oh, baby, you don ' t understand. Let me make it clear," Andrew's laugh is cold, devoid of any real humor. " I ' m a dead man walking; I killed my father, and The Obsidian Order is after me. I burned down my entire empire for you. For us. Killing you with a single bullet is too easy."

My body starts to shake, forcing Andrew to hug me tighter. "After I killed my father, I thought to myself, what could I take from you? Punish you for ruining everything? So I took your house, which got you here. I vandalized the graves, and you walked right into my trap. I even killed the maintenance man; his body's in the shed." Andrew claims nonchalantly. "That got me exactly where I needed to be. But that wasn ' t good enough." He hisses.

His words swirl around me; his plans are grotesque and twisted. I glance at Henry, my heart sinking. If Andrew shifts his aim towards Henry, I ' ll do whatever it takes to protect him.

" I wanted something none of them could take or fix." Andrew spits. "I'm going to own a part of you none of them can have. I'm going to take your past, present, and future. Your memories," Andrew gleams.

" Turn around and straddle me," Andrew orders me. " Try anything, and I ' ll blow your beautiful fucking jaw off. You ' ll survive, but with a face, not even a mother could love."

I shake my head.

" Do it." He presses.

" No," I cry out, tears finally breaking free.

" I ' m not going to fuck you in front of your brother. I ' m not that deranged," Andrew grunts.

" Says the man with a gun to my face," I retort, anger boiling over.

" That ' s all your fault. You push and push, and then you complain when I push back," he snaps, twisting a lock of my hair around his finger. " I said I ' d take your memories. And that ' s exactly what I ' m going to do, baby. Turn the fuck around before I take your face too. A bullet to the jaw. You'll never smile again."

I know how I'm going to die. Andrew's going to blow my brains out. Take my memories. It will be quick.

I mouth to Henry that I love him, then I do as Andrew says and turn in his lap. I do this only so Henry won't see the final look on my face.

I dig my fingers into Andrew ' s shirt, hoping I draw blood. I wish my nails were longer so I could try to pierce his heart with my claws.

I close my eyes, waiting for the end.

Andrew laughs again. " You still don ' t get it, baby. I ' m not going to kill you, Poppy."

I open my eyes.

"We'll be together again one day," Andrew claims with such assertion it has me seeing double. "A love like ours doesn't die. It lives on. You will always think of me," Andrew smiles, eerily relaxed as if he's lounging on a beach instead of desecrating a grave. "Like I said, killing you wouldn't punish them. And I want your brother, Julian, and that annoying as fuck friend of yours to suffer." He tilts his head, "I even want you to suffer, baby. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. You cornered me, took everything from me, and took our future from me. Julian did, too, so I'm going to take his future from him. He's going to suffer slowly, with much more agony and pain than if I just killed you now."

He reaches up and brushes the hair off my forehead, well keep a steady hold on the gun pressed to my jaw.

" I need to make sure I take all your memories. I need to make sure you can't make happy ones with Julian."

I blink, unable to grasp the full extent of his madness.

" I love you, Poppy Moore. I love you," Andrew declares as if those words could still mean anything to me.

Andrew's eyes settle into a look of serene resolution. " You ' re always going to think of me. Of this moment, of what you drove me to do, how you destroyed me." He tips his head back and grins, a sight that chills my blood; then his expression snaps to one of predatory anticipation. " Kiss me," he commands.

My breath catches.

"Kiss me, or I ' ll shoot that pretty face."

The urge to fight surges within me, but memories of the day I buried Peter flash before me, the day Andrew first used Henry as leverage to bend me to his will.

His hand presses against my back, forcing me closer to him, coercive, controlling. My lips hover just inches from his, eye to eye with a monster. His irises, so many shades of disturbingly calm blue, lock onto mine. His smile stretches grotesquely as I instinctively try to recoil. His grip is iron, unyielding.

" You ' ll always remember this moment. Don ' t you see, Poppy? I just took what they could never protect. Your mind. That ' s more valuable to me than your heart," he murmurs sinisterly, his lips grazing mine.

Then, in a swift, shocking movement, he redirects the gun from my cheek to his temple and seals his lips to mine.

Bang!