Chapter 5
Chapter Five
It’s late. Some of the guys are still up. I can hear them bullshitting as I lead Daisy to the kitchen.
I open up the freezer and ask, “What’s your poison? We’ve got chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and mint chocolate chip.”
“Strawberry.”
I turn around to find her sitting on the counter in my tee, looking almost like she belongs in it. “You know…” she starts, then pauses. “Tomorrow.” She glances at the floor, choosing her next words.
“You’re going to start coming down off all the shit they dope you up with to control you. I know.”
“It’ll be bad.”
She twists her fingers together as I grab some bowls and spoons.
“We’ll take care of you.”
“Why? You don’t know me. You don’t owe me anything.”
“The truth?”
She nods.
“You’ve got information.”
“I don’t really know anything about their operation.”
“You’ve survived them longer than most. You gotta be smart. Strong.”
“I’m far from strong.” She shakes her head, and I hand her a bowl. “I’m alive because I’m stubborn and I was too afraid to run.”
“You’re sitting here now.”
Daisy takes a big bite and sucks on the spoon.
“You know how labs test things on rats? They say if you keep shocking them…” She glances at me to see if I’m paying attention.
The corners of her mouth tip into a soft smile, but her eyes are dead-serious.
“At some point the test subject or the prisoner just sits there and takes the pain. Won’t even try to escape. ”
“You’re not a rat in a cage. You’re free.”
“As long as they have my kid, I’ll never be free.”
Fuck. “You have a kid?”
She licks her spoon, the tip of her tongue flicking strawberry from the bottom with zero self-consciousness. “Yup.”
“How old?”
“Five.”
“Boy or girl?”
She closes her eyes tight and sucks in a breath as her bottom lip wobbles. “I don’t know,” she finally admits, and for a minute I wonder if she’s fucking with me, but there’s no faking the pain etched in her expression when her eyes meet mine.
“What do you mean?”
“I gave birth to a baby. One I was never permitted to hold or to see. Hector says they are in an orphanage and when I work out my contract, he’ll give them to me.” She wipes at her cheeks.
“Do you believe that?”
“I have to.” Her voice cracks and she shimmies off the counter. “I think that’s enough sharing for one day.”
These bastards are worse than I thought. I’ve gotta tell Prez, but I know he’s with his woman tonight. I’ll fill him in tomorrow. I stick our bowls in the dishwasher and take her back to my room. “Get some sleep, Daisy.”
“Hope. My real name is Hope.”
“Nice to meet you, Hope.” I settle down on the floor, trying to get comfortable as she tosses and turns in my bed.
She’s asleep in less than a minute, curled up on her side under my comforter, arms folded close to her chest. I wonder if she realizes she’s snoring.
The tiniest, saddest sound, like a baby trying to soothe itself back to sleep.
I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling while trying to count imaginary sheep.
I can’t sleep. I don’t want to dream about what that girl’s been through, but the images are stuck behind my eyes, anyway.
I sit up as she kicks the covers off and rolls from side to side.
She’s still wearing my shirt, and in the dark, it looks even bigger on her. An hour passes. Maybe more. She doesn’t so much as stir, except for a sobbing hiccup that shakes the bed from time to time.
I can’t even begin to imagine all the horrors she’s survived.
Eventually, I drift off to sleep, but it doesn’t last long.
I awaken to her mumbling and crying in her sleep.
“Hey.” I shake her arm gently. “You’re having a nightmare.” She continues to flail and cry until her whole-body shakes, leaving me with little choice. I climb into bed and wrap my arms around her. “You’re okay,” I coo. “You’re safe with me, Babygirl.”
All fight leaves her as her muscles relax against me.
I strum my fingers in hair, combing through her curls.
Eventually, her breathing evens out. Her body softens beside me, warm and real and breathing steadily.
Peace washes over her features. I keep stroking her hair, and at some point, I realize my fingers have drifted down her back.
I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Not since I was a kid.
Hell, maybe never. Protective, but also angry enough to rip the world apart.
I want to annihilate every last Juarez and wipe them clean from this earth for what they’ve done to her.
I want to keep holding Hope, Daisy, whatever name she claims. I want to be responsible for her in a way that makes no damn sense.
I want to hunt down every man who has ever used or hurt her and make them pay. I want to snuff the light from their eyes like they have hers.
The minutes seem to tick by until sleep starts to claim me. When I go to move back to the floor, she stops me. “Don’t go,” she whispers.
So I don’t. I hold her closer. Her face buried against my chest. “Don’t let them take me back. Please don’t make me go back.”
“I promise. You’re safe with me. No one is ever going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.”
My words seem to soothe her, and eventually sleep finds me.
When the sun comes up, I open my eyes to find her curled in the crook of my arm, clutching my tee to her face. She’s got that post-dream confusion, blinking, piecing together where she is and what the fuck she’s meant to do look about her.
I keep my voice low. “Morning.”
She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t move away, either. I let her have a minute. I know she’s disoriented and needs a second to get her bearings.
“Hey,” Daisy croaks, rubbing her eyes.
“You sleep okay?”
“Better than expected.”
“Can I get you anything? Coffee, water?”
She shakes her head, and I shift out from under her.
In the morning light she looks softer than yesterday. Slightly rested.
But it won’t last. She’s going to be sick soon. Judging by the marks on her arms, she’s going to need a fix. When someone has an addiction like hers, it could mean life or death.
A fist bangs on my door. It’s Tyrant. “Prez wants a word. I’ve got her.” He nods to Daisy.
I hit the head and get dressed.
Daisy is rolled toward the wall as if she’s gone back to sleep.
“Didn’t take you as the type for a slumber party,” Tyrant says, snorting at my pile of blankets on the floor.
“I’ll invite you next time, but you’ve gotta wear some cute PJs.” I flip him the bird and grab the tracker I fished out of Daisy’s hand.
I meet Prez in his office. “You found out anything?”
I place the chip on his desk. “Dug that out of her hand.”
“Figured she’d have one. She tell you what their plan is?”
“They’ve got her kid.”
“You believe her, or is that part of her sad story?”
I shake my head. “You didn’t see her face when she told me. Whether it’s true or not, she believes it is. Got track marks on her arms. She’s going to get sick as fuck.”
“I’ve already got a call in with Doc Stevens. He’ll assess her and we’ll see how bad she’s got it. He’ll do a full workup and test for STDs.”
Shit. I didn’t even think about that.
Prez takes a hard look at me. “You fuck her?”
“No, it’s not that. I used my knife to dig that tracker out. She bled a little, but I was careful.”
“Good. Stick with her for now. She needs time to adjust and get clean. I’ll keep this.” He fingers the tracker. He’s probably going to have Wicked’s sister take a look at it. She’s smart when it comes to tech shit.
“She mentioned that she’d been there since she was about thirteen. Said her real name was Hope. Didn’t give me a last name.”
“Look into it. She could be in the database for the missing. I’ve got Gwynee bringing her friend Celia over to pamper Daisy a little.”
Big Daddy is as tough as they come, but he’s got a sweet spot when it comes to Gwynee. Woman has him pussy whipped. I’d never say that to him, but hell, we all know it.
I head downstairs to find Toxic and Puck to help me do a search.
Between the three of us, we should be able to work faster.
With any luck, we can find out who Daisy really is.
That’s if she wasn’t feeding me some shit about her name being Hope and she wasn’t classified as a runaway without a report.