“Her.”
Relief. It’s quick as my shoulders collapse and my knees threaten to buckle beneath the weight. He wants her. He wants to trade my sweet wife for my damaged daughter, and there’s not a single thought that’s preventing me from accepting the deal.
“Daddy?” Her voice is soft. I’m no longer Pollyx in front of this young man, her friend. “He can’t have me, Daddy. Besides, he’s lying. Heidi is dead.”
I turn on Beverly, her face a mask of indignant rage, and covered in blood—Tanner’s blood. “It was you.” I always had a feeling she was the one who ran her mother off, but I didn’t think she went as far as to kill her. But looking around our house and the rising body count, I’d be stupid not to.
“Pollyx.” Her voice hardens. I’m Pollyx again. “I won’t go with Colby.”
“How do you know him?” I shoot the young man a look over my shoulder and find him peering around us, looking into the kitchen.
“I met him in town. He looks like Lyx.” Her chin trembles. “Heidi killed Lyx.”
Understanding dawns on me and horror quickly replaces it. Her fucking doll, the infant she carried around with only one eye. My eyes meet the stranger’s eye once again. I can see why she was drawn to him.
This could work.
“I know how much Lyx meant to you. I had no idea your mother—”
“Heidi,” she growls.
“Heidi,” I amend, “broke him. Is that why this boy is your friend?”
“Yes.” She gives a quick nod. “And he’s nice to me. I don’t hear him laughing whenever I walk by.”
“They don’t do that.” I shake my head, but my protest falls short. I don’t know if they do or not. I don’t usually accompany her around town.
“Cora is the only one who doesn’t.”
“I will take you away from here.” His voice is deep, laced with a quiet confidence, and I can’t help but see our similarities. He looks and acts much as I did long ago. “You don’t have to stay in a town where people make you feel like you don’t belong.”
“I don’t want to leave Dollywoodland.” Beverly pouts. “All my dollies are here.”
“You can make more with Colby,” I try to reason.
“No, she can’t,” Colby interjects, his voice hardening. “No more dolls, Beverly.”
She crosses her arms under her still naked breasts, the same ones she tried to entice me with earlier, and pouts. “I won’t leave.”
“You can find another hobby,” I suggest, not entirely sure why Colby won’t let her have mannequins. I look at him again, pleading with my eyes. “Why can’t she have mannequins?”
“Not all her dolls are mannequins,” he growls. “You can ask your wife all about it when we do the exchange.”
The clay.
My body runs cold as I look back into my daughter’s eyes. My flesh and blood, my little girl, is a cold-blooded murderer.
“What did you do?” My voice comes out in a hoarse whisper.
“You weren’t finding me any more dollies.” She shrugs, then her eyes flash with something akin to demonic. “So I made my own.”
“You made your own?”
“Yes, with your poppy sap and clay.”
My heart stills as I rush away from them both, no longer caring about the state of my house. The poppy plant has been handed down through my family, my lineage tracing back to fields of poppies.
I find the plant, giving it a quick scan and seeing no outward damage. At least she was careful. This is all I have left of a legacy rooted in the ancient world. It’s a prized possession. I turn and head back to the kitchen, stopping short when I hear Beverly talking to Colby.
“You really should get dressed,” he says, concern lacing his words.
“You interrupted us,” my daughter snarks. “I almost had him.”
“Why are you trying to bed your father?” He’s curious, not sounding disgusted with her.
“I love him.”
“I loved my mother too, but I wasn’t trying to marry her,” he says softly. “There’s a difference. Come with me, Bevie. Let me show you how I can save you, how I can love you.”
“Why?” My little girl’s voice shakes, emotion suddenly saturating her words.
“Because I’m drawn to you. There has to be a reason we keep finding each other.”
“Like fate?”
“Yeah,” I hear him chuckle, “you’re my fate.”
I grab the blanket off the back of our couch, a burning sensation settling in the pit of my stomach, and I walk toward the kitchen. I don’t know who this boy is, where he came from, and why the hell he has such an attachment to my daughter. I should’ve questioned this before when he first barreled into my home, but my relief was overwhelming.
Beverly had been covering me in Tanner’s blood, had her blonde hair over her raven tresses, and repeatedly asked why my cock wasn’t hard. I was at a tipping point, gagging on the rotting stench of the body in my bed, and trying to fend off the sadistic advances of my daughter.
He showed up, as if to save me, as if he really was fated, and that stirs something akin to jealousy inside of me. How long has he been watching us? What is his true motive? And how did he find Heidi?
Heidi.
This kid has my wife. My pregnant wife. The love of my life, the woman who gave birth to the girl who ultimately tried to kill her. The woman who put me above everything and I turned my back, giving in to the worst temptation. I want my wife back.
Their hushed voices fall quiet as I come into the kitchen, wrapping the blanket around my daughter’s bloody shoulders, covering her body from his eye.
“I want my wife back.” I stare him down, my firm tone brokering no argument.
“You know the terms.” He shrugs, not at all affected.
I look down at the top of my daughter’s head, the same one I kissed the night she was born, and my heart squeezes painfully. The same black hair that would billow in the sand-filled breeze as she chased after me. My little girl, who used to look up to me as her daddy, not her husband. I should’ve realized what growing into a woman would do to her, and the desires she would develop, but I selfishly wanted to keep her as long as I could.
Now I have to choose, and it hurts. It hurts because I want my wife back. I want the chaotic storm inside of my daughter to leave, and I’m willing to lose her forever if it means my life goes back to normal.
My hands grip her shoulders. One last squeeze, and just a touch that’s nothing more than paternal. A final embrace before I lose her forever.
Beverly leans back against my chest and Colby’s eye flashes with a dark venom, his features edged with lethal intentions. How is he so attached? It makes my possessive side rear up, and I nearly growl as I drag my daughter in closer. What are his true intentions?
“How about I just walk out the door right now and put your wife right back where I found her?” His words are gritted out from between his teeth.
“Sounds good.” Beverly nods, her small shoulders bouncing inside my palms.
My mouth turns up slowly, mocking the boy, and telling him he’s not the one in charge. Both women want me and if given the chance, I could choose. But then I drop my chin to my chest and release the animosity, letting the tainted ties I developed with my daughter burn away.
“Go clean up, Bevie.” I release her. “I need to have a talk with Colby.”
She gives him a lingering look, backing up away from us, and her face filled with a smug surety. She doesn’t believe I’d give her up, not after she’s maimed and murdered, and still I’ve had her under me in my marital bed. I don’t blame her either.
“Listen,” I turn back to Colby, “I can’t just give my daughter up, not without knowing your intentions.”
“You don’t really have a choice here.” His grin is filled with malice. “Do you know where I found your wife? Let’s just say she was dangerously close to becoming fodder for the Others.”
My heart sinks as I imagine my pregnant wife trembling in fear while those creatures screamed around her every night. What she endured the last few weeks must be nothing short of torture. Despite that, I can’t hand over my daughter unless I know what he really wants with her.
He sees it, the reservations in my eyes, and darts forward, his grip wrapped around my throat. Murder pure and simple shines through his single eye.