Smashwords version Sweet Surrender (8 page)

When
Poppy and Rafe walked in, she looked up at them and her smile froze and then
faded.  Warring emotions battled on her face. Anger, shock, indecision – Poppy
could guess the thoughts racing through her head. How was she going to play
this off?

Motorcycle
jerk leaped to his feet, glaring at them. Before he could say a word, Rafe
snapped “Get out,” looking him square in the eye, his face like stone and his
eyes cold as ice.

For just
a moment, it looked as if Penelope’s lover was going to challenge him, but then
his shoulders slumped and he rushed past Rafe and Poppy and hurried out of the
room without looking back.

“Terry,
wait,
wait
! Don’t leave me!” Penelope wailed, tears welling in her eyes.

When he
didn’t rush back to her rescue, she turned to Poppy, and now tears were
spilling down her cheeks and she was gulping in distress, about to descend into
another full on hysterical crying jag.

“Poppy, oh
my God, I-“

“Penelope,
cut it the
hell
out.”

Penelope
stopped crying instantly, jaw dropping in shock. She and Rafe both stared at
Poppy, astounded by the uncharacteristic flare of temper and profanity. But
Poppy was red hot with anger, years of frustration boiling up in her and
finally bubbling over.

“Don’t
even bother with the tears, because you can turn on the waterworks like you
turn on a faucet, and we both know it. You have a lot of explaining to do. Not
only did you risk my job and my law school scholarship by tricking me into
working at a bakery full of obscene carbohydrates, you risked my life and
Viola’s life by not telling me that some psycho was targeting the bakery.”

“I am in
my hospital bed! I’m in pain!” Penelope’s eyes glittered with angry tears, but
she didn’t try to manufacture another sobbing fit. “I don’t have to listen to
these outrageous accusations.

“And I
don’t have to run your bakery for you.”

“Fine,”
Penelope muttered. “I’ll get someone else to run it.”

“Good
luck with finding someone who will really care about helping the business
succeed, and who won’t rob you blind, from your hospital bed. And I’ll tell you
this, even if you can find someone else that you trust to run Sweet Surrender,
I will make sure that they know everything, because otherwise, their lives will
be in danger just like mine is now. I will tell them about the vandalism, the
tire slashing, the fact that whoever ran you down in the street was probably
the same person doing the vandalism, and the fact that someone broke into your
apartment while I was there and threatened me. And they used the same language
that was on the graffiti on the outside of the store, so it is obviously the
same person.”

“I-what?
Someone broke in?” Penelope’s cornflower blue eyes widened in shock.

Her face
crumpled. “Poppy, I’m sorry. I sank every cent I had into that place, and it
was starting to do really well, and finally I was doing something right, and
then all that stuff started happening. I knew if I told you what was going on,
you wouldn’t help me, and I’d lose everything and I’d be broke and homeless.”

She
started to sob, shoulders heaving, and Poppy flashed back to when they were
little and Penelope was locked in her room, crying hopelessly, and their mother
stood glaring  in the doorway, blocking Poppy’s attempts to rush out and
comfort her.

Poppy
started towards Penelope, wanting to throw her arms around her, to hug her and
tell her that she’d fix everything and it was all right, she wasn’t angry at
her – and then Rafe punched her in the arm and shot her an exasperated look.

Poppy
shook her head, and the clouds cleared from her mind, and she could see clearly
again.

Damn,
Penelope was good. She knew exactly how to push her sister’s buttons.

“Poppy.
Cut it the fuck out.” She spit out the crude language in a deliberate attempt
to shake her sister out of her fake histrionics.

Poppy
gasped and stared at her, face pinched with fury, like a toddler trying to
steal cookies from a jar that had been placed out of her reach. Her tears dried
up instantly, as if by magic.  Her gaze shuttled back and forth between Poppy
and Rafe.

She’d
always had two fallback solutions to dealing with the messes she dumped in
Poppy’s lap – cry hysterically or run away and hide out for a few months, until
Poppy was so frantic with worry that she forgave everything and practically
wept with relief that Penelope had resurfaced.

Now
crying wasn’t working and she was trapped in a hospital bed, unable to run
anywhere.

And
clearly she hated it.

“Who’s
your new boyfriend?” she spit out, a sneer twisting her pretty lips. She didn’t
need to say what her tone implied – obviously this couldn’t be Poppy’s
boyfriend, because Poppy could never land a man like that.

It was
true. Rafe wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t even having sex with Poppy, and
Poppy had made it quite clear she was willing.

Poppy
flinched, despite herself, and Penelope smiled a small, cruel smile, knowing
her jab had found its target. 

“I know
I’ve seen him before,” Penelope said, raking him with triumphant smirk. “And
why is he here?”

“I’m here
because I care about Poppy. I live right next to the bakery. And that’s all you
need to know; we’re asking the questions, not you. Is there anything else that
you haven’t told your sister?” Rafe gritted out.

Penelope’s
spiteful  smile faded. “Nope,” she said sullenly, plucking at the edge of her
bed sheet with long, slim fingers.

“Anything
at all?  Any little thing? It could be what helps the police crack the case.”

“I said
no.” But Penelope wasn’t meeting their gaze.

“Penelope,
if I find out that there’s more that you haven’t told us, I swear to God I will
walk out of the bakery in the middle of the day and leave the door wide open,
and never look back. You will most definitely lose everything. Don’t think I’m
bluffing.” Poppy speared Penelope with a gaze like ice.

Penelope
shrugged. “There was a letter,” she said, pulling a loose thread from the edge
of the bedspread and unraveling it. “It was no big deal.”

“What did
the letter say?” Poppy snapped.

“Oh, just
stuff like, get out while you still can, you jezebel whore, repent or burn,
scarlet woman.  I got pissed off and shoved it behind the file drawer in my
office.”

So that’s
why the stupid file drawer was stuck.

“Gee,
that would have been nice to know about before I decided to come manage the
bakery,” Poppy said between clenched teeth, squeezing her hands into fists so
hard that they turned white.

Penelope
didn’t look up at her. “Are you done?”

“I’m very
done.” Poppy said, her cold, calm voice hiding the hurt and anger that raged
inside her. “I told you I would run the bakery for the summer. I always keep my
promises; you know that. And I also promise you this; as soon as you’re better,
I walk away for good, and do not even think about calling me the next time you
get yourself in trouble. If you choose to keep in touch with me, fine, if not,
also fine, but don’t call me to bail you out ever again.”

“I should
have known you’d abandon me,” Penelope spit, eyes snapping with fury. “You want
me to fail. You’re just like mom.”

“I’m nothing
like our mother,” Poppy said wearily, and she spun on her heel and walked out
of the room, with Rafe right behind her.

When she
got to the elevator, he threw open his arms, and she sagged into him, all the
strength drained from her body.

“Are you
okay?” he said. “Are you feeling like the queen of the world? Because I’ve got
to tell you, that was magnificent.”

She
forced a smile. “I actually feel like throwing up, but I also feel an amazing
lightness now. I really don’t have to spend every waking minute worrying about
Penelope’s next disaster, do I?”

“Never again.” His arms folded around her, warm and strong, and
she rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes.

Now that she no longer had to worry about being Penelope’s
fulltime bail officer, she only had one little problem to deal with: the psycho
who was stalking the bakery and who very likely wanted to kill her.

“Don’t say it,” Poppy scowled at Viola over the bakery counter.
Rafe had spent the night at her house again, chastely. They’d
ordered in pizza and wings, and watched an old movie on Rafe’s laptop, and then
Poppy had tossed and turned all night, drifting in and out of sleep, waking up
exhausted and frustrated in a tangle of sheets. She hoped she hadn’t moaned in
her sleep. Or begged Rafe for sex.

“What? That you guys should just hurry up and do it already?”

“Yeah, that. Don’t say it.”

“Okay, live like a nun, see if I care.  I’m going to go restock
the pussy pops. Customers have been just been eating those up.” Viola flashed
an evil grin at her.

“Viola, language!” Poppy gasped.

“Uh, Poppy, hello?” Viola waved her hand around the room.
“Remember where we are?” She grabbed the last chocolate vagina lolliop from the
display stand on top of the bakery counter, and held it up.

“Eat me! Eat me!” she said in a high squeaky voice, thrusting the
lollipop towards Poppy.

“Oh, my God. You were born to work at this place. Get away from
me, woman!” She turned and ran for the back of the store, with Viola chasing
her and waving the lollipop

.
“Hello?”

 Both
women froze in place and turned to see Jeff, standing in the middle of the
store, a look of amusement on his face. Viola held out the lollipop to him.

“Chocolate vagina? Only $3.99. Plus tax. Cheapest  pussy in town.”
 

Poppy made spluttering noises of indignation and fury, but Viola
ignored her, waving the lollipop under Jeffrey’s nose.

He grinned and shook his head. “Thanks, I’m trying to cut back.
 Want some help here today? My fiancée is on a shopping rampage this
morning, so you really, really need me to stay here and help you, right?”

Viola shrugged indifferently. “As long as you promise not to
deliver any lectures on Republican politics, you may stay.”

Jeffrey scowled at her. “That will be no problem, as long as you
promise not to make any narrow-minded, cliché, incorrect assumptions about
people who don’t dress like they’re going to a funeral every day. And by the
way, Vampira, I vote Democrat.”

Viola flipped him the middle finger and turned her back on him,
swiftly slicing open the tape on a cardboard box of vagina lollipops and
restacking the display rack.

Rafe was
standing in the doorway of the bakery’s office.

He walked
over to Poppy and slung his arm around her shoulder.

“By the
way, look what I found behind Penelope’s desk drawer.” He held up a dozen
colorful sheets of paper, some of them wadded and crumpled into balls. “That’s
why you couldn’t open the drawer; she’d just stuffed them all behind there and
they were caught in the metal track.”

Viola swiveled to stare at him. “Letters, plural? Didn’t you tell
me there was
one
threatening letter?”

“Yes,” Rafe said. “Brace yourself - it turns out Penelope lied
again.”

Viola squinted at the letters. “Waiiit a minute. Stay here, I’ll
be right back.” She turned and dashed outside, followed by Jeffrey, hot on her
heels.

A minute later she returned, with several brightly colored pieces
of paper clutched in her hand. “Jeffrey, I do not need a guard dog.  If
that nut job tries anything, he’ll be the one needing protection.  Rafe,
look at these flyers, they’re the same colors as those letters. Somebody’s been
putting the flyers under my windshield wipers, but I’ve just been throwing them
away without looking at them.  I saw him putting them there. It wasn’t the guy
with the sign; it was a tall, skinny guy.  Poppy, doesn’t that sound like
the guy who attacked you?”

“Yes, it does.”

Scrawled across the flyers in big angry letters was the same
hysterical verbiage that the intruder in her apartment had screamed at her.
“Die, scarlet women! Jezebel whores will lead good men to temptation!”

Viola leaned over to read them. “Why would I want to lead a good
man to temptation? That sounds boring. I like a man who knows what he’s doing.”

“This is actually really good news. Now we’re getting somewhere,”
Rafe said, visibly cheered. “We can dust these for fingerprints, maybe find out
where they were printed. We’ll find him.”

He stuffed the letters in his brief case.  “Jeffrey, keep an
eye out here. I’m going to drop these off at the police station before I head
in to work.”