Page 56 of Last Boy

As he takes a seat on the barstool, I lean on the counter to face him. “So, last night, when she was leaving the coffee shop where she works, she was attacked by two guys wearing masks.” I try to keep my voice even as I talk, but it’s really fucking hard. “Her brother Van recently overdosed. But apparently, he owed people money.” I speak low, not wanting her to hear me in the bedroom. “Bad people.”

“Shit,” Hudson mumbles. “So, what’s your plan? You can’t keep her locked up forever, you know.”

“Poppy’s the most private person I know. I knew she wouldn’t want anyone to see her beat up the way she is. So, while she heals, we can keep her safe.” I pause, looking down for a moment. “And while she’s here, safe, Beckett’s hired a few officers to find out who the scumbags are. And to take care of them somehow.”

He pulls in a deep breath, leaning back on the stool. “Fuck, man. Officers?” He waves around the room. “Two penthouse suites?” He shakes his head, pointing toward himself. “My protection?” Grimacing, he swipes his hand over his face. “With a dude like your uncle, that must be one fucking deal you made. Did you sign your life over or what?”

My stomach churns. Hudson knows how my uncle works. He’s traveled to enough events with him to understand how selfish and calculated he is. I think that’s why he isn’t working with him anymore.

“Yeah. Pretty much,” I mutter, tipping my chin up toward the closed bedroom door. “But just like her old man, her brother ran with bad people. So, if selling my soul to the devil means I get to keep her from ever getting hurt again or dragged into that shit, so be it. Beckett can do his worst. I don’t care.” I shrug. “I’ve seen it all. There’s nothing he can do that scares me. As long as that girl in there gets out of this and can go on to live her life and I can keep playing hockey, fuck the rest.”

“You know, that sure sounds like love, brother.” Hudson grins. “And don’t you worry. We’ll keep her safe. You and me.”

“Fucking right we will.” I nod. “I appreciate you being here, man.”

“First things first,” he says, taking his phone out. “Every call that comes through her phone will be coming to mine too.”

I relax a little because I know that she’s in the best hands with Hudson being involved in keeping her safe. The dude knows his shit. And if her attackers are dumb enough to actually contact her, it’ll be game over for them. Because he’s smart.

My eyes find the door again, and I know I’m going to have to force her to open that door soon because she needs her medicine.

And I’d also really, really like to sleep in that bed beside her.

16

Poppy

I wake up, stretching my arms over my head. Right away, a pain shoots through my stomach, and I wince. I’m hoping the bruises will begin to be less sore by tomorrow and I’ll start feeling better.

After calling Ryann, Lana, and Jake last night, I passed out. And besides Walker breaking into the room at some point to basically force Tylenol and Motrin down my throat, I was dead to the world.

I guess the events of the past few days finally caught up to me. And I slept.

A lot.

The left side of the bed is perfectly made, and I can’t help but wonder where Walker slept last night. But it obviously wasn’t next to me. This is nice because, according to Ryann, who shares the room next to mine, I cry in my sleep sometimes. And I really don’t want to risk Walker seeing that.

Slowly, I scooch my ass to the side of the bed and stand up. Day two of looking like a battered wife, and I think I feel worse today than yesterday. But maybe that means I’m healing.

Heading into the bathroom, I see a purple toothbrush still in the package, and I know Walker put it here for me. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I head out to the main area. Only he isn’t out here. In fact, the only sign he’s been here at all is the folded-up blanket and pillow on the couch. But when I walk into the kitchen, I see a note on the counter with Walker’s scribbly handwriting.

P,

I had to leave early for practice and class, but I’ll be back soon. Order room service for breakfast—the menu is right under this note. Don’t even think about not eating. You skipped dinner last night. They have your favorite, Belgian waffles.

Oh, and, yes, you still snore. Even from the couch, I could hear you. Thinking about investing in some earmuffs.

—W

P.S. Please look at the picture below. That’s Hudson, the security guard we talked about. Please make sure that if someone knocks on the door, it’s him. Don’t open it for anyone else.

P.P.S. I’m fucking serious, Pop.

I can’t stop smiling when I read his note. I feel guilty as hell about ordering room service though. Especially because everything on the menu is probably expensive as hell. But I know Walker, and if I don’t eat, he’ll be pissed. So, I decide I am going to order some waffles and a coffee, but I’m going to jot down the total cost on paper so that I can pay him back once I get my next paycheck.

Speaking of paychecks, I never called the café.

My next shift isn’t for a few days, but I know even by then, my face will still look like this. Plus, the thought of working there and walking home after the attack…makes me feel sick.

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