Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Daisy pokes at her fries and sips on her strawberry milkshake.
“You doing all right over there?”
She glances around the dinner and stares blankly out the window.
I clear my throat and repeat my question.
“Sorry. I’m just not used to this. To being out and doing what I want.”
“Get used to it, Daisy. Do you want me to still call you Daisy?”
“It’s what I’m used to.”
I didn’t come up with anything in my search earlier, but I’m not giving up. “You got a last name?”
“Does it matter? My family stopped caring about me a long time ago. If they even ever did.”
“What’s your story?”
“Are you asking because you’re trying to poke holes in it, or because you really want to know?” She dips a couple of fries into ranch dressing.
“I’m curious and want to get to know you.”
“What’s the point? The minute Hector or Big Daddy gets what they want they’ll get rid of me.”
“Prez wouldn’t do that. If he gave you his word on something, he’ll keep it.”
She seems to chew over my words while biting into her burger.
A low moan escapes her lips. It’s a sound that travels straight to my dick.
I don’t know what it is about her, but I like her.
I shouldn’t. She’s got trouble written all over her, and yet I can’t stop thinking about her even with her sitting across from me.
“What’s your story?” She licks a pearl of ranch from the tip of her thumb.
“Not much to tell. Grew up here. Work construction for my old man and ride with the club.”
“That’s it? No girlfriend or wife? No kids? There’s got to be more to you than that.”
“What you see is what you get.” I finish off my double bacon and Daisy retreats back inside her head with this haunted expression in her eyes.
“Dessert?”
“You trying to fatten me up?”
“Nope.” I pop the P.
“I think the milkshake was plenty.”
I pay our tab and we get back on my bike. I don’t take her back to the clubhouse just yet. We cruise through Anarchy and then onto a nearby lake I come to when I need to clear my head.
I take her hand in mine and take her down a path that winds around the shore to a clearing that has some benches. Daisy sits on a bench, and I skip pebbles across the water.
“If you could go anywhere in the world right now and money wasn’t an option, where would you go?”
She smiles, but it’s a sad smile as something flashes across her face. “To get my child. Then I’d take them someplace magical, like a Disney park or something. What about you?”
“Guess I’d just get on my bike and ride. See where the road takes me.”
“Lame. There’s got to be somewhere you want to go.”
I shrug. “Yours sounds pretty good to me.”
“Pfft. No grown-ass single guy wants to take a trip with a whore and her kid.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Talk down about yourself.
“It’s true.”
“Words and titles only hold the weight you allow them to. You’re not a whore, Daisy. You’re the victim of some really fucked up people.”
She glances away, gripping the edge of the bench. “I chose to stay.”
“Not much of a choice if you’re being threatened.”
“I guess. I don’t want to talk about my problems or my trauma.”
“What do you want to do?”
“How cold is that water?”
“Only one way to find out.” I stalk toward her and kick my boots off as she gets up and lifts her tee over her head, revealing she’s not wearing a bra.
I shouldn’t stare, but I can’t not look.
I see the scars on her body as she strips down to her underwear.
The sight has me wanting to hunt down whoever put them there and make them pay.
I try not to gape at her, but I’m a man first, and a patched member of a 1% MC second.
Daisy’s back is a map of pale lines and bruises.
One patch on her hip is an angry shade of purple.
Probably a parting gift from Hector’s goons on the way out.
Her skin so stark against her black underwear, I feel a kick of guilt for maybe wanting her.
She wades in fast, not even slowing down when the water gets dark and cold enough to chill the marrow of your bones.
I follow, dropping my shirt and jeans, and the next thing I know I’m up to my chest, fists balling at the shock. Daisy’s head pops up a good thirty feet out, her curls flat against her skull, legs treading. I swim out to her.
She floats on her back, eyes closed, arms out, letting the chilly water do what it’s supposed to—bring her back to life. I don’t say anything. I watch her as she smiles to herself, soaking in the sunshine.
Then I grab her by the foot and shove her under the water.
She pops up, gasping and sputtering. She splashes water toward me. “Asshole,” the insult comes out playfully. I retaliate. She laughs, damn near a real laugh, and I can’t help but chase it. I dunk her, and she surfaces scowling, spitting water and flipping her wet hair in my face. “Stop that.”
“All right. You win.” I surrender and float next to her on my back.
We float here, together but each in our own heads, and it feels like the world could end tomorrow and neither of us would be surprised or even disappointed.
We could get lost right here and die peacefully.
I look over at Daisy as she bobs in the water, stealing glimpses of her chest, feeling tempted to make a move on her but resisting because she doesn’t need that. Not from me. Not now.
Somewhere on the far end of the lake, a pickup backfires, and a flock of birds shoots up from the trees and whirls away.
I think about how my father and I always went fishing on this lake when I was a kid.
He must have told me a million times it was cursed.
That sometimes dead things sank in but never came back up.
Lake probably has a hundred secrets rotting in the mud at the bottom.
Daisy swims close, the sunlight cutting across her face, giving her an ethereal glow. She’s so thin I could probably pick her up with one hand, but she treads water like she’s built for it. Born to run or to swim away, forever out of reach.
Untouchable.
“Why do you call yourself Lunatic?” she asks, voice just above a whisper, as she braces her hands on my chest.
I pull her closer. Her legs hook around my waist and she lays back once more.
Fuck. I want to kiss her. Touch her. But I fight back the urge.
“Earned it. Used to act out. Do reckless shit. Loved to fight. Was impulsive.”
“And now…do you want to be impulsive?”
I smile and trail a palm over her navel.
“We should head back.”
I can’t tell if it’s disappointment or relief on her face when I dunk her and swim off.
She stays in the water for a few more minutes. I don’t rush her. It’s easy to forget she’s been through so fucking much.
She walks up the shore, squeezing the water out of her hair. If Gwynee and Celia could see her right now, they’d probably kick my ass for messing up her hair.
Daisy isn’t like them, though. She doesn’t need to be perfect. She’s pretty in a natural way. Not that they aren’t gorgeous, but I’m not attracted to all that glam.
“That was exactly what I needed. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Okay. I won’t.” She pulls her tee back on. Her nipples flash through the thin pale blue material. I force myself to stop staring. The more I’m with her. The more I get to know her, the harder it is to fight this attraction growing between us.
Falling for Daisy is dangerous. Stupid. Starting something we can’t finish will hurt us both, but I’ve always wanted what I can’t have.
We head back to the clubhouse. I’m sure Prez is wondering where we ran off to. I didn’t ask permission to take Daisy out. He’s probably going to kick my ass for it. When I check my cell, I don’t have any missed calls or texts.
Maybe we’re in the clear.
By the time we make it back, there’s a party in full swing.
“You want to join them or go upstairs?”
“I don’t think I can handle a crowd of people I don’t know right now, but if you want to go, I’ll be all right on my own.”
The last thing I want is to leave her alone, but I need to do something about this fucking desire for her that’s consuming me. “Maybe. I need to shower before I do anything, though, and you should probably take your meds and clean that cut.”
Taking her into the lake wasn’t very smart when she has an open wound.
In the privacy of my shower, I fist my cock, stroking myself, needing relief.
Needing to beat the image of Daisy walking out of that lake from my mind. I’m one bad decision away from calling her name and asking her to finish what I’ve started.