“Don’t fucking make a sound or lover boy dies,” the man growls, sending shards of fear through me. I feel something sharp dig into my side.
The voice sounds eerily familiar, but there’s no way it can be who I think it is. He wouldn’t do this. My head must be playing tricks on me.
I try to twist my head around to look into his face, but the pressure on my mouth, pressing me back against him prevents it. He picks me up by the arm around my middle and carries me into the living room. He stops briefly before carrying me over to the chair by the desk. He moves it aside with his foot until it’s positioned so he can sit down. I try to wiggle away, but he manages to wrestle me down onto his lap.
“Now we just wait for Asher.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Asher
I look at the time on my phone and notice five minutes have passed since Poppy went into the kitchen. What in the hell is taking her so long? I know I’ve kept her in bed the past two days, and I’m sure she’s hungry, but damn it, so am I. Not just for food, but her delectable body. I can’t get enough of her, just like I knew it would be once I had her.
A message pops up on my screen, reminding me of the text I got a few minutes ago from Rex. He was on his way to the station. His guy in the lab department found a match from the blood left behind at Olivia and Tony’s place and he’s sending over the results once he has them.
I pull the message up, only to drop my phone to my lap. My blood runs cold as ice as pure rage rushes through my veins. My teeth grind together as I clench my jaw. That motherfucking bastard. I fucking trusted him.
I flip the covers off, grab my briefs from the floor, and drag them up my legs. I need to find Poppy. I need to tell her what Rex found out. I need to hold her in my arms, because knowing she’s been so close to this guy for months has my skin crawling. I want to hunt him down this very second and pummel the life from him. I want to feel his bones cracking beneath my fists. I want him to beg for his life as I watch it drain from his eyes. He hasn’t hurt Poppy yet, not physically, but I have no doubt he will. Him killing Brice proves he’s capable of it. I just don’t understand why.
I walk with determined steps down the hall, my anger mounting with every step I take. My nails dig into my palms, and I relish the pain.
I feel a sense of foreboding when I realize it’s too quiet. Poppy should be making noises in the kitchen. When I round the corner of the hallway, I understand why. The phone I still have in my hand cracks.
Eric, my best fucking friend, is sitting on a chair with Poppy sitting in his lap, a knife poised at her throat. Poppy’s terrified eyes are pinned on me as I take another step in the room. My anger mounts as tears trickle down her frightened face. She cries out against the hand that’s over her mouth when the knife digs into her flesh.
“Don’t come any closer,” Eric says calmly.
“Drop the fucking knife, Eric,” I growl.
I see fucking red when he just smiles at me and yanks Poppy’s head back further. A bead of crimson slides down her neck.
“Nah, I like where it is.” His smile is sinister. “Now, why don’t you have a seat.” He lifts his chin, indicting the chair across from him. “I want you to have a front row seat for what I have planned.”
Icy fear runs through me. I have no idea what he’s doing or what he has planned. He’s gone off his fucking rocker. How in the hell could he have fooled me so well?
I keep my eyes on the knife as I move slowly to the chair and take a seat on the edge of the cushion, ready to spring forward as soon as I can get the chance.
“Relax. Get comfortable. You’re going to enjoy this.” His words come off as casual, but I can see the hardness in his eyes.
I grit my teeth as I slip back in the seat a bit further.
“What in the fuck are you doing, Eric? Why are you doing this? You were my fucking best friend,” I force out through my dry throat.
The smile that comes across his face has my fear spiking. It’s eerie and proves he’s not stable.
“Because you took what was mine. Poppy was supposed to be mine, not yours. Now that you’ve taken her, I’ve decided if I can’t have her, no one can.”
I grip the arms of the chair and try to control my breathing. My heart pounds so hard in my chest that I’m surprised the walls around us aren’t shaking with it. My eyes slide briefly to Poppy to see her face is red, except where his hand is over her mouth. The skin of her cheeks around his hand is white from the pressure he’s applying, and wet from the flood of tears that’s coming from her eyes.
I need to keep him talking until I come up with a plan of attack.
“What are you talking about? She was never yours. You didn’t even show any interest in her until a few weeks ago.”
My body tenses when Eric’s hand moves away from her mouth and traces a path down her ribs, until it rests on her upper thigh. She whimpers when his fingers dig in.
I snap my eyes back to his when he says, “Like you? You didn’t go after her until a few weeks ago either.”
“You know why I didn’t,” I growl.