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The wind wailed against the tightly closed sliding door to Poppy’s apartment. It was a messenger sent from the rolling clouds above, warning all of the storm contained there. The moon was bright, its light illuminating the small balcony when the waves of clouds would dip low enough for it to shine through.
It had been one year since the day Poppylan Wilkes walked in on Julri cheating on her. One year since she’d first set eyes on Tora Aniki.
Her life had been a roller coaster since that day, but she wouldn’t change it for anything. It’d been impossible for them to stay apart after the night of the break-in.
Being with Tora made Poppy understand why adults often used the term “partner” instead of boyfriend or girlfriend. The latter words were accurate, but failed to encompass all that Tora and Poppy were together.
He had her back, and she had his. She provided a safe harbor for the dark, turbulent seas of his life, and he sailed those seas, protecting the harbor from the creatures in the dark.
Quincey had been right, that night Tora called him from Moonbright. It wasn’t just enemies outside of the clan he had to worry about. Many of those in the Balthuman clan were just as much of a threat, if not more so, to Poppy.
Tora hated that he could only give his heart to her in secret. But she cherished it, all the same.
Poppy shifted on her bed, moving until she sat on her knees before her wide window. The city of Narin hummed with life in the night, and it seemed to writhe that night, as if it were a giant dragon, coiling and coiling upon itself. She dragged her eyes from the city to the empty roads leading towards her apartment. Between the moon and streetlights, the roads looked like orange and silver ribbons, curving around the hills which surrounded the city.
She traced the roads with her finger against the window, her ears straining to listen over the haunting winds. Poppy shivered.
She liked it when Tora traced shapes and words on her bare skin as he curled around her. He was never a big spoon, as she’d once would have tried to label it. No, when Tora curled around her, he wrapped his massive body around hers like a tiger claiming a favorite toy in the zoo. He’d somehow tangle their legs together and still be large enough he could wrap his arms around her waist and shoulder as he twisted enough to rest his head on her shoulder. It should have felt suffocating to Poppy, or at least, much too possessive for a woman as independent as her.
Instead, she felt adored and protected. Poppy felt powerful, knowing her lethal tiger wrapped himself around her and purred.
She loved Tora, with everything she was.
The familiar thunder broke through the wind, and her eyes searched for his car. She’d memorized that sound and could tell when he neared even in rush hour traffic. At practically midnight with the roads barren, there was no mistaking him. Her heart fluttered up into her throat, her eyes unable to leave the bright red car that held so many memories.
Tora slowed before parking outside of the gate. She frowned, already reaching for her phone when it began to ring.
“Aren’t you coming up?” she asked in lieu of a greeting.
She heard him get out of his car and she moved off the bed, sliding open the patio door.
“Not tonight, sweetheart,” Tora said.
He stood beside his car, phone held to his ear as his gaze stole her breath even from so far away. Tora always made her pause when she’d see him for the first time after any time apart, even a matter of hours. The wind, jealous that he’d stolen her breath and not it, tugged at his ink black hair making the loose half of it fly from his shoulders like an ancient battle standard. He wore the green superman hoodie he’d once given her to protect her modesty and it tugged a smile from her. She’d returned it only the day before, demanding he make it “stinky” again. Tora would never be the partner who professed his love with words often, but he showed Poppy in countless ways and she’d take that over words any day.
“Why not?” she breathed into the wind, as if speaking to him directly instead of through the phone.
The clouds parted enough to add its light to Tora, bathing him in silver and overpowering the orange glow of the single street light. She took him in, and she knew what he’d say before he answered. He wore the dark cargo pants and lace-up boots he wore to do his dirtier jobs. Tora would kill someone, maybe a few someones, tonight. It should make Poppy run away from him, this devil in the night. But Tora was the one thing she’d never run from.
“You still want to go to the beach?”
His question threw her, and she cocked her head. “With you? Always.”
“Good,” he said, ducking his head once before he looked back at her. “You need to pack a bag for a few days. Maybe longer.”
“Tora?”
“This job, sweetheart... It’ll get me out.”
Poppy’s hand flew to her chest, as if she could keep her heart from beating out of her ribcage. Did he mean what she hoped he did?
“Come kiss me,” she said fiercely. If what he did tonight could free him from Vincent, then she needed to kiss him. Needed to remind him how much she loved him.
“If I come up there, I ain’t leaving soon,” Tora said with a touch of humor.
Poppy looked at her balcony and then back to him. “You once said you could climb this in thirty seconds.”
Tora snorted but accepted the silent challenge and watched as he gracefully hopped the stone fence. She darted a look towards the guard’s booth, but the evening guard—a different one than Gyu—didn’t seem to notice. Tora wouldn’t be happy about that, if the circumstances were any different. He crossed the parking lot, sticking to the shadows, and then the phone call ended. She set her own phone to the side and leaned over the balcony.
There he was, his eyes turned towards her and burning amber. He climbed the balconies as if they were ladders, his strong hands hauling himself towards her with enviable ease. The wind tugged at his clothes, at his hair, as if trying to keep him from her, but he never faltered, even as the wind pulled Poppy’s hair from its tie and sent her waves whipping around her face.
He stopped in his climb and the wind lessened, as if surrendering to them. She leaned over the balcony, holding her hair back, a soft smile on her face. He was only a foot or so below her, and if she knelt down, she could press her lips to his. Her eyes caught the glint of metal at his side. Pistols.
“Why are you down there?”
“Cuz if I come up the rest of the way, I ain’t leaving,” he replied with a smirk, his tone telling her he knew she knew why.
She couldn’t let him leave without something, though, and in her thinking, she let her hair fall. It was long enough to be just out of reach of Tora. Then she watched as he pulled himself up enough that he could twine a lock of her hair around his fingers and press a kiss to it. And the man didn’t think he was romantic, she thought as she fought back a swoon.
“I should be back by dawn,” Tora said, releasing her hair. “But in case I’m not, I’ll have to lie low during the day and then I’ll be back this time tomorrow, no matter what. Then we’ll go away.”
Her heart went wild, beating unsteadily as she thought of finally living a free life with Tora. It raced and then stopped, freezing for eternity, before racing again. He didn’t wait for her reply and descended the building. She watched as he moved through the shadows as if he and they were one. He only looked back towards her as he opened the driver door and he pressed two fingers to his lips. Poppy did the same and he slipped into the car, the engine roaring to life.
She watched, heart still in her throat, as he raced through the empty streets back to Narin City.
Unable to sleep, she packed her bags, not knowing how long they’d truly be gone. Something told her that it wouldn’t be a weekend getaway, and it should scare her—the idea of running away with her Tiger, but it only made her hurry the moon along. She sent a text to her grandmother, telling her of her love and hoped the woman would think it was simply a dream that inspired her to send it. She didn’t know if she’d be able to use her phone where they were going.
When the first rays of dawn peaked over Regina’s Peak, breaking through the clouds, Poppy waited on the patio, ears straining against the torrent of rain. But Tora didn’t come, not even as the sun burned away the clouds and the morning rush began to clog the streets. Poppy looked at her phone, smiling as her grandmother had replied, but there was no word from Tora.
It wasn’t the first time Tora had given her two potential return times, and like every other time he’d missed the first one, she forced herself to not fret. Instead, she told Erdene she’d be working from home that day. She did her best to focus on Quincey’s edits, checking the clock too often as the day trickled by without word from Tora. Her stomach twisted as the sun began to sink lower in the sky; excitement nearly made her sick with anticipation. The road was once again crowded with commuters, but soon it would be empty and then her tiger would come for her.
Unsure of what made her move to her patio, her blood chilled as she watched the gate open to allow entry to three black sedans. The new guard waved them through with hardly a look and Poppy slipped back inside. She texted Tora and, a moment later, Quincey. Something was wrong and those men, she knew, were coming for her.
She grabbed her backpack, abandoning the rest. When she pulled open the door, she realized it was too late.
Claude and Scharch stood with twin smirks on their face in their immaculate and tailored black suits. Before she could scream, Claude darted forward and wrapped his arms around her, slapping a hand over her mouth. They bullied her back into her apartment, ignoring her attempts to break free. Tora had taught her how to escape a hold, but more men in suits poured into her apartment and her efforts were useless.
Poppy was thrown to her bed and she looked up at the two men Tora had warned her about with trepidation. She knew Tora was coming back here, but why would these two men be here, with almost a dozen other men? They all wore the black suit uniform of the Balthuman clan.
“You are going to be a good girl,” Scharch said as he crouched down until he was level with Poppy’s face. There was a coldness in his eyes that scared her. “We need a word with Tora, and we know this is where he comes.”
Claude snorted and a couple other men laughed darkly.
Poppy gathered her courage, glaring at Scharch. “He’s going to kill you for touching me.”
Scharch gripped her by the chin and dragged her closer. “He went too far this time and not even his precious Quincey can save him. He’s numbered, girl. And it’s damned high.”
His words penetrated the shock of her mind. She remembered Tora telling her what numbered meant that night in the alcove above the game hall. The higher the number, the closer to death. These men were here to kill Tora. She swallowed, looking past Scharch and at the men now lounging in her apartment as if they owned it. Each of them had a gun at their hip and some even spun knives in their hands.
Tora was the Tiger of Ares Street, but he wasn’t a god.
Scharch nodded and released her. “She’s getting the picture now,” he said and jerked his head towards another man. “Get the bitch tied up. I don’t trust anyone that fucker is with.”
Hands grabbed Poppy again and she cried out as they wrenched her around until she was on her stomach, her arms yanked back behind her. Harsh rope bit into her wrists and then her ankles too. One of the men dragged the single desk chair she owned to the patio door and slid it open. Claude was the one who hauled her over and sat her in it, making her look at the road Tora would drive.
“I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes how fucked he is,” Claude said into her ear and she jerked away. Poppy opened her mouth to scream, hoping to at least get the guard’s attention down in the parking lot, but Claude stuffed something in her mouth the moment she tried. “None of that, Poppy dear. In fact...” he trailed off and moved behind her. Sweat beaded her brow as her senses searched for any sign of what the man was doing.
Moments later, she felt something hard press against her side near her breast. She wanted to jerk away, but Claude had tied her wrists to the back of the chair and it kept her from moving.
“All one of us have to do is pull that trigger and you’re dead,” Claude whispered; the glee in his voice made tears line her eyes. “When you think of a plan to try to escape or help your lover, remember the gun.” He emphasized the word with a press against the gun which forced the barrel to dig into her. Poppy squeezed her eyes tight with a whimper.
They left her alone after that, and she almost hated them for it. Murmurs of low conversation and amused huffs of laughter came from behind her while all Poppy could do was watch the roads as they slowly emptied and the sun set over the city.
She stared hard at the roads, willing Tora to stay away. She didn’t let herself think of what Scharch and Claude would do to her if Tora didn’t show, but she knew they’d keep her as bait for as long as it took. She knew Tora would come for her, even if it meant walking into his death. She couldn’t let that happen, not when he finally had a chance to be free.
The wind carried a sound to her and Poppy’s eyes closed as tears finally fell. He was still far away, too far to see, but it was as if the wind were giving her time. She shifted, no longer listening for the familiar sound of his car. She shifted again, but the conversations behind her never faltered. Slowly, even though the ropes bit into her skin and drew warm blood as she moved, she tried to loosen her bindings.
Tora would come for her if there was violence. She couldn’t fire a warning shot and send him running away. He’d only run faster towards her. The only thing that had ever kept him away from her were the police. He’d be forced to wait until they left whatever call one of her senior fellow tenants had called about. A gunshot might not scare him away, but it’d scare the tenants into calling the police.
The night was silent, beyond the bugs and frogs making their presence known. Any sign of Tora’s approach had disappeared, and Poppy wondered if she’d been mistaken. It didn’t matter though, because it had given her time to plan and to accept what she was about to do.
She moved again, her wrists straining so hard she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. It hurt so bad to contort her wrists, the ropes only loosened by the blood from her silent struggle. When she felt the cold metal of the handgun, she hiccuped a quiet sob. One more push that had her mouth opening in a silent scream, and she could feel the trigger of the gun.
The gun had shifted during her movements, but Claude had placed it too well. No matter what, when she pulled the trigger, she would be shot. But her sacrifice would keep Tora from walking into his death.
Calm settled over Poppy and she listened to the wind once more. Tora was out there and on his way to her. She would not let Claude and Scharch have him.
The wind kissed her cheeks, drying the streaks of tears. Poppy imagined Tora holding her to his chest, thought of the way he smelled, thought of the way his lips felt against hers. She loved him with every part of her, and now she loved him with her death.
Poppy pressed the trigger.
*~*~*~*
Tora’s gaze kept flying between the road, the side mirrors, and the rear view mirror. If he had hackles, they’d be up. He’d done it, though. He’d gotten to the warehouse and gotten Detective Lane there too. She had busted the operation and finally had enough evidence to begin the dismantling of the Balthuman clan. He was supposed to have let her arrest him and do everything by the book, but he was done. He’d done his part and it was time to disappear.
It’d taken too long and he’d had to wait the day out in one of his few safe houses. He had everything he and Poppy needed for a new life. His phone sat at the bottom of the Narin River and he’d ditch his car as soon as he had Poppy with him. He left what signs he could for Gyu and Quincey to let them know he was alive; to anyone else the signs wouldn’t mean anything. A missing pool cue from the game hall. A pot of flowers left on his old apartment’s single table. His guitar there, but his pick missing.
The sun had set and he’d gotten in his car the moment the last rays disappeared. His life in Narin City was over, and if he showed his face, he’d be dead after what he did. He hadn’t just been an informant for the police. He’d led the whole fucking federal government into the den of beasts.
It’d be worth it, though, when Poppy was at his side and he was finally fucking free to hold her hand in public. To kiss her whenever he wanted without looking to see who was watching. He’d marry that woman as soon as she’d let him. She was it for him; Tora had known it from the start. Without her, there wasn’t a point to all the bullshit he dealt with.
Police sirens droned ahead in the distance, and the familiar sound set his teeth on edge. Sirens were a main feature in the soundtrack of Narin City and his life, but these felt different. When they went quiet, Tora didn’t feel any better. Instead, he drove faster.
“Shit,” he muttered when he crested a small hill that gave him a view towards Poppy’s apartment. It was flooded with blue, red, and white lights; police officers milled around the parking lot, talking to figures he couldn’t make out. He slowed and pulled over, barely able to see Poppy’s complex. All he could watch was the red and blue lights splashing against the building’s wall.
Tora drummed his fingers on the wheel, urging the police to hurry the fuck up with whatever spooked one of the old ladies on the lower floors. He should have already had a burner phone so he could call Poppy, but he hadn’t wanted to risk it until they were in a different city. Too many people were in the pockets of Vincent.
A car turned onto his street and he glanced towards it out of habit, gathering information in less than a blink of his eye. But he did a double take as the car passed, its driver looking directly at him as it passed.
Scharch.
Tora’s stomach dropped and he ground the car into gear, not giving a fuck about his clutch or transmission. He raced towards Poppy’s apartment complex, beyond caring about the police presence. He needed to make sure his Poppy was okay, that Scharch hadn’t gotten his hands on her.
He parked across the street haphazardly and shouldered the door open, slamming it behind him as he ran towards the crowd. He moved between police cars, ignoring the blinding lights on top of each, and almost stumbled at the sight of an ambulance with open doors and a missing stretcher.
Each face he saw that wasn’t Poppy had his heart freezing over.
It was Mrs. Haru who had him stagger to a halt. She was looking up at him with so much heartbreak. His moan startled them both and he heard someone call out to him as he ripped away from the kind, busybody woman and landlord. He pushed through the crowd, shoving police and tenants alike in his desperation to get up the stairs to Poppy’s apartment.
Every leap up the stairs was a prayer that she was okay. She had to be okay. He was finally free—they were finally free.
Her door was open and there were two officers standing outside, looking at their notebooks. One of them saw his approach and tried to stop him.
“Please,” he begged, hardly recognizing his strangled voice. “I—she—”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the other officer, a woman, said with too much fucking compassion in her eyes. He did stagger then, the male officer scrambling to help hold Tora upright. He recovered enough to push the smaller man away, the two police officers no real obstacle to get through.
The apartment was heartbreakingly familiar, but there was evidence everywhere even if the police didn’t notice it. A stack of books knocked over on the table. Glasses or beer cans on surfaces. Plants out of place.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” a man said, stepping in front of him. He wasn’t a police officer, Tora took in quickly enough from the man’s white uniform shirt. Tora shut down, unable to even think as his eyes slid from the man’s to past his shoulder.
Poppy had been laid out on the stretcher, a police officer with a camera crouching over her as the flash went off.
The sound that tore from his chest was inhumane and Tora threw himself towards her. He shoved the officer and EMT’s out of the way, fighting back against them as they tried to keep him from her. They couldn’t though, not when Tora had become something he didn’t even recognize.
He gathered her to his chest, clutching her as he begged her to not do this. He pulled back enough to smooth her beautiful dark hair out of her too pale face.
“Please, Poppylan,” he begged, his voice ragged. He pressed a kiss to her lips, his tears spilling onto her face. “God fucking dammit, please not this.”
She didn’t move, though, her hamster cheeks not even twitching at his touch. His shirt was becoming sticky and wet and Tora looked down, finally taking in the bloody mess of her shirt. It was the same tank top she wore when she first kissed him up on the roof. Now the zoo animals were splattered with her blood, their cheerful expressions twisting a knife into his heart.
It seemed as if the officers finally understood and stepped back as the massive man crumpled over the woman, clutching her to him and burying his face in her hair. The officers shared a profound look, some of them shedding a tear too as the man’s grief overwhelmed them. He loved this woman, no one in that room could ever doubt how much. Not as he sobbed and screamed as he rocked in place, holding her as if he could pull her back from death if he just begged enough.
It was a long time before one of the female officers was brave enough to touch his shoulder. She’s convinced it was only the sight of her own tears that made the man finally agree to let the woman go. She had to bite her lip hard as she watched him settle the body back onto the stretcher with such tenderness.
He didn’t move, his eyes locked onto the pale face of Poppylan Wilkes. He didn’t speak, not even when she tried to get more information from him about who might have done this. Then she noticed the tattoo on his neck and bowed her head.
She knew that whoever did this wouldn’t find justice from the police. She pitied the dead woman as the EMT zipped up the black bag. How many innocents had lost their life to clan violence?
She told the man they still had questions for him but he could answer them in his own time. He nodded once, a jerk of a motion, his eyes never leaving the spot where blood had pooled. The scene would be cleaned by a police crew, and when she asked if he had somewhere he could go, someone he could talk to, the man rose to his feet. For the first time since he’d let go of the woman, his face wasn’t a mask of stone.
There was so much fury in his eyes that she took a step back, instinctively aware of how dangerous he was.
Without another word, he barged out of the apartment as quickly and efficiently as he’d barged into it. The officer knew there’d be more deaths tonight.
Tora moved mechanically as he raced back towards Narin City and Ares Street. He knew exactly where Claude and Scharch would be and he knew they’d be waiting on him. Vince might even be there too. Fuck them all. He parked out in the open, ignoring the weight of many gazes as he got out and moved to the trunk. No one would fuck with him. Not when he was covered in the blood of the woman he loved and had death in his eyes as he pulled two handguns from the trunk before slamming in closed.
He turned and walked down the street, eyes glaring at the neon Miracle script in front of the massive Balthuman crest. Each step was measured and ground crunching as drivers pulled to the side to avoid the Tiger’s path.
The bouncers parted as he walked through, whispering into their coms.
The club was filled, strippers and dancers on every stage in various levels of nudity. Some of the people who saw him approach, guns in hand, fled with white faces. The moment he caught sight of Claude and Scharch in their preferred booth, he raised one of the guns and began to fire. They were surrounded by Balthumans, and he picked them off, snarling at the thought of each one of them in Poppy’s apartment. In his home.
The two men dove for cover and their own guns as the others turned to return fire. People were screaming and dancers were racing from the stages towards safety.
Pain punched into Tora’s shoulder, but he kept walking forward, squeezing bullet after bullet out of his gun. Another hit him in the side, making him grunt and his step falter. He dropped the gun, switching the other in his hands.
He didn’t see them as he aimed and shot in time with his heartbeat. All he saw was Poppy smiling up at him from where her head rested against his shoulder. Saw her dance and be silly in her small apartment that had become an oasis of light in his dark world. With every bullet, he heard her laughter, her soft gasps, her moans as she fell apart for him. With him.
Twice more, Tora was hit with familiar pain, but it wasn’t falling to his knees that made the tears begin to fall. With Poppylan dead, Tora was too, his body just hadn’t caught up yet. He knew Quincey would say some shit about how she wouldn’t want him to die like this, to give up if she died. Tora wasn’t that strong, though. And he didn’t give a fuck what she’d want, not when she wasn’t here to tell him herself.
Tora didn’t even raise his head when Scharch’s shoes appeared in his light of sight. Instead, he let his eyes close in relief. He wouldn’t have to bear the weight of the world without her.
When the gunshot rang out and the giant frame of the man slumped the rest of the way to the ground, the entirety of Club Miracle let out a breath. The wind plucked it from Ares Street and carried it far away, up towards the peak of the nearest mountain.
*~*~*~*
Quincey and Gyu sat beyond the barrier of Regina’s Peak, their legs dangling over the unfinished bridge. They shared a cigarette as they sat in silence, both lost in the depths of their shared grief. The moon was bright in the sky, transforming the roads Tora loved to race through to gilded ribbons. Wind pulled the smoke away as they traded it back and forth. As Quincey breathed out the smoke from his nostrils, the wind whipped up and wrapped around the two men. They stilled as a familiar sound seemed to hum on the edges of the wind, followed by the barest twinkling of laughter.
The two watched the road, in futile hope that their losses weren’t real.
When no cars came into view, both of their shoulders sank a fraction deeper.
Quincey snuffed the cigarette out and threw the bud into the dark below them. Together, he and Gyu made their way back to the car—Tora’s beloved red car—and Gyu slid into the driver’s seat. They were quiet for a long moment, staring out towards the end of the bridge they’d all claimed as their own as teenagers. Now they were the only two Kings of Ares Street left.
“You think they’re happy?” Gyu asked, his voice rough with emotion.
Quincey didn’t look at him as he replied. “They’re together.”
After another long moment of silence, Gyu turned on the car and they left Regina’s Peak.