Page 19 of Bloody Seven

Her leaving affected me more than it should have. I've been pining after a woman I literally spent one night with. Trent made sure to point out how she must have a golden pussy because, according to him, it’s impossible to believe there’s any kind of woman out there who has that kind of power over a man. Fucking idiot.

Trent is still active in The Collection, unlike me, and has been complaining about how long it's taking for him to receive his assignment. Some would say I got out easy, even though I had to endure a near-death experience as well as the death of my wife. Maybe it's all about perspective, but it didn't exactly feel like getting off easy.

Rebecca Andrews died in a fatal car accident at the age of twenty-five. She was upset and swerved into oncoming traffic, only to be hit by a plow truck that killed her on impact. Rebecca was sweet; she didn't have to work, considering her family had the kind of generational wealth that we usually only hear about in movies.

It was old money, and as soon as her heart stopped, it became mine, or should I say The Collection's. Part of the initiation process required us to sign official documents stating anything we acquired during our time as active members would belong to them. I didn’t care at the time because I was excited to be a part of something exclusive. I wasn’t exactly the smartest person in my younger years.

The Collection doesn't care. They only care about wealth and how it can be used to their benefit because, at the end of the day, money is power. Whoever said money can't buy happiness clearly didn't have enough of it, at least according to them.

The thoughts have me shaking my head, annoyed. Everything I have was given to me under the pretense that if I followed their rules and kept silent, I would be able to keep it. The worst part is I did follow the rules, save the one slip-up that resulted in Rebecca’s death.

They got my wife's inheritance, just like they wanted, and told me I fulfilled my duty to The Collection. I was free to choose whether or not I wanted to retire or take on a new assignment since I was still so young. That's what they call the women they expect us to win over, assignments.

I chose retirement, and they let me keep my apartment along with a hefty severance and an open threat that if I ever revealed The Collection in any way, it would be the last thing I did.

I was content with my life for years. Even though Rebecca died, I started the sandwich shop with my severance and poured all my time into it. Poppy left me questioning whether everything was worth it. Out of all the people in the world for me to fall into bed with, it had to be someone who was connected to one of my brothers.

Drew and I lost contact a long time ago, mostly because he went into hiding about two years before The Collection had him killed. He said he met someone and planned on leaving with her, then deleted all of his socials and any ties we had to him because he had no intention of following through with his assignment.

It pissed off whoever calls the shots from above, and even though it took them two years to track him down, ultimately they did. I don’t know for sure who made the call to have him killed because there is so much secrecy surrounding who the higher-ups are, but they did.

We’re all given a phone after initiation, and our orders appear on it as they’re given. We’re always provided with an address to a house where we can find a full paper file on our assignment, and then they only check in periodically as we are left to do our work. The only members most of us know are those who are inducted with us. Legacies would obviously know their parents too, but my parents died a long time ago.

My brothers. Four remain active members, while the fifth is cold and buried in the ground.

I understand why Drew was so taken by Poppy. She has this aura to her that you can't help being drawn to. The woman had me wanting to crawl around and worship her after one day. It's hard to imagine what I would have been willing to do if we spent longer together. None of that matters anyway. She left town, and I have to respect her wishes.

Part of me is surprised The Collection didn't kill Poppy for unknowingly disrupting the path of one of their members. They’ve been known to do much worse to the loved ones of members who are derailed just because they can. I've heard sometimes they make the members watch as the person they tried to flee for was killed in front of them. It's all rumors, but Poppy doesn't know how lucky she is to still be breathing.

I still think of her almost daily, and if she were to walk into my shop today, I think I would hear her out. I never believed in love at first sight, but I felt something rare for her, fuck, I still do.

From my office, I hear a loud disturbance in the shop. I've hired a few more people, so I don't have to work the counter myself now unless I want to, and I rarely want to. The yelling continues to grow louder, which annoys me. Kyle should be able to handle a simple irate customer. It's really not that difficult.

"Boss!" Kyle yells, and I let out a deep sigh.

"Yep, coming," I say as I close out of the tab on my laptop and slam it shut.

I pause at the doorway, giving myself a moment to get my shit together. My mood is already trashed, and trying to avoid snapping at the customer would be ideal, considering word of mouth is everything around here. Social media made this shop well known, and it would only take one viral video to take that away.

"How can I help y–" I stop mid-sentence.

There she is. The woman who’s been stuck in my head for the past year, just standing in my fucking bagel shop like nothing happened. My eyes roam her body, taking in every inch of her. She's wearing damn near exactly what she was the first time she was here.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," I let slip, and she raises a brow.

"I don't think that's an appropriate way to talk to your customers." A half grin appears on her face, but it pisses me off.

"I tried to tell her you were busy, but she insisted on speaking with the owner," Kyle says. "She threatened to stab me if I didn't call for you."

"Murder, really?" I turn my gaze toward her and lift my brow in question.

"I mean, it worked." She shrugs, and I grow increasingly irritated.

"Maybe we should take this to my office."

"Scandalous," she says, bringing her hand up to her mouth while I gesture with my arm for her to follow me. "Does everyone who causes a scene here get the same treatment?"

"Cupid. Go, now."

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