17. Vandal
VANDAL
Never has an invitation sounded more inviting. And it takes everything I am to not strip and climb in next to her. Because even though my life is on this steady nosedive, I know Daisy deserves better than a quick fuck.
So I do the only thing I can think of that’s more intimate than fucking.
“Yes, but there’s some things I want to tell you first. I want to tell you why I am like I am right now.”
Daisy takes a deep breath but settles back against the pillow to listen. “Okay.”
“To get some information from the club, a group of men knocked me off my bike, and over the course of two hours, tortured me to get the intel they wanted.”
“Oh, God, Vandal.”
“I didn’t break.” That seems like an important detail to make clear. “I didn’t give them anything, even though they electrocuted me with multiple cattle prods.” I shake my head, finding the words harder than I ever imagined.
“It’s okay,” Daisy says. “You don’t need to tell me the details.”
“I do.” I play with her fingers, stroking them, folding them over mine. “Because I need this version of me to make sense to you. They broke me, Daze. And before this, I was infallible.”
Her eyes shine with tears, and I hate myself for causing them.
“I’m pretty sure that no one is infallible. Even Goliath fell to a rock from a slingshot.”
I let go of her hands.
“I’m sorry. I’m not suggesting—”
“It’s okay. I’m just…I don’t really know how to put all this into focus for you, and it feels like a lot to dump on you.”
Daisy takes a breath. “You’d be surprised at what I’ve seen and what I can carry. Try me.”
“I thought my time was up. Thought I was gonna die before my brothers could get to me. I did all the things you’re meant to; trying to focus on the future, trying to block out the pain, trying to die with some dignity if this was it.
But none of it worked. All I felt was a pure raging terror.
They kept escalating.” I tap the scars over my eye.
“This was the worst. Shattered orbital bone. Some break in my skull leaving an open pathway to my brain that had to be patched over. Bone taken from here to replace bone there. Metal mesh to replace bone gone forever. Problems with my vision in this eye that still aren’t right.
And a surgery that makes me feel sick to my bones when I think about it.
They pulled my face off my skull. Peeled it away to fix it. ”
I put my hand over my mouth because I feel like I’m about to throw up. Like I always do when I think about the invasive nature of my surgeries.
Daisy leans forward and places a hand awkwardly on my back because of the angle we’re sitting. She rubs small circles, and I try to focus on them instead of the whooshing sound in my ears.
“Vandal, that sounds horrific. I’m sorry it happened to you, and it’s okay to have all these feelings about it. It’s traumatic on another level.”
“It wasn’t the worst of it. There were a hundred other things done to me. Some things I can’t even begin to comprehend or make peace with.”
Daisy kneels and comes closer to me. “Come here,” she says, crawling over my lap and putting her arms around me.
She holds me tight, and I grab hold of her like I’m gonna drown if I don’t. One hand around her back, my fingers spread wide over her skin. The other holding a fistful of hair at the back of her neck.
I let the soft scent of her, the warmth of her, the solid weight of her ease the panic train I was on. When I feel more stable, I nudge her back a little because there’s more I need to explain.
“I’m guessing the alcohol and painkillers are an escape,” I say. “Can’t sleep without them, otherwise the nightmares come. Need the pain meds because things still hurt. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.”
“Physically or mentally painful?”
I look up at her. “If I said both, would you be disappointed in me?”
She strokes a lick of hair back from my face. “Not at all. But what would disappoint me is if you don’t have a path to fix them. Because this”—she swirls her hand up and down me—“isn’t a solution. It’s a temporary patch.”
“I don’t want to be this mess, Daisy. Not for me, not for the club, not for my brothers.
I know I’ve only known you five minutes, but you and Elsie have joined that list. Because once upon a time, I wasn’t this.
I’d like to think I was funny. Charming even.
Fierce when I needed to be. I’d defend the shit out of you and Elsie.
Would probably have charmed you into bed by now but can’t guarantee the old me wouldn’t have left you in the morning. ”
She smiles sadly at that. “Thank you for the heads-up.”
“But what happened has got me rethinking things. Up until getting that call from Elsie, I think my path to escape these feelings might have been a very different one. Now I’m scared it might still be. Even thought about killing myself.”
“Oh my gosh, no,” she says. Eyes wide, mouth slightly open, she looks devastated at the thought. “There are lots of ways of processing what happened to you, but only one of them is irreparably permanent. Don’t take that path, Vandal. The world is better with you in it.”
I press my forehead to her chest, and she clutches me there, pressing kisses to the top of my head. “I feel like such a coward. Always thought I was indestructible.”
When she cups my cheeks, I realize there are tears on them. “Then your expectation of yourself was always too high. No one is indestructible. You’re comparing yourself now to something that didn’t actually exist before.”
“Guys have gotten beaten up before and not had a fucking existential crisis.”
Daisy sighs as she shakes her head. “Yes. But was it this personal? Was it this terrifying? Was it this extensive? Did it leave them with life-changing injuries? You can’t compare how you’re dealing with this to anyone else’s story. And PTSD hits people differently.”
“I want this,” I admit. “You and me. I want to see just how good it could be. But, if I’m honest, I’m not ready for you right now.
Not in a place where I could be good for Elsie either.
But I want you to give me some time to try to be.
I want a few weeks to clean this shit up so I’m at least in a workable place to manage life. ”
Daisy looks at me with pride, not like I’m broken. “I’m not going anywhere.”
When Alvarez hit me with that bat the third time, I thought my life was over.
I tried to make my peace with not getting old, with the fact I hadn’t written a will, and that there would be no lasting impact of me ever being alive.
There’d be no legacy. No grandchildren. My mom’s family line would end with her.
I figured people might miss me, but eventually my name would be spoken for a final time.
Some people have life-changing moments and live the rest of their life with renewed optimism at the gift of bonus years they’d been given.
But I haven’t. I’ve been stuck on the moment that my time was up. So, to still be alive hasn’t been everything people talk about.
And for the last month, I haven’t had a fucking clue what to do while I’m still here.
Until this moment.
Because if I hadn’t stuck around, I wouldn’t have this moment to add to the list of memories I’ll take with me when I finally go.
There’s a flicker of recognition of the me I used to be when I run my hands over Daisy’s waist and pull her close. I take in just how spectacular her tits look in this tank top. High, round, great fucking cleavage I want to run my tongue along and fuck my dick through.
I always loved sex for relaxation, and my cock is already hard and aching and ready to dip into just about any orifice she’ll consent to.
But something beyond sex scratches at the exterior of my heart, trying to find a way in. Because Daisy eases me. Around her, the violence in my head subsides because she’s more powerful than drugs and alcohol at stopping the worst thoughts.
Some might say that’s a problem. Switching one addiction for another. But if that’s what this is with Daisy, then I’m never gonna give it up.
“This okay?” I ask, gripping the soft tank top in my hands, using it as leverage to bring her lips to mine.
Daisy’s hands slide around the back of my neck. “Yes, Vandal.”
In movies, it sometimes takes an age for lips to meet, and I used to get mad, like, Hurry the fuck up. Nobody takes that long to actually make out.
But as the tension builds and hums between us, I take my own sweet time, because I’m only gonna get to sleep with Daisy for the first time once.
Everything else since the attack by Alvarez has gone at full speed. The surgeries. The physical therapy.
But I’m not rushing this.
I spread one palm on her back, sliding up and down her spine slowly. Feeling every bump, every muscle.
And Daisy twines my hair around her fingers.
Her eyes are open, pupils wide. I’m sure mine are worse.
But I have a fleeting feeling of gratitude for everyone who has gotten me to this place where I can enjoy this moment with Daisy.
And even if I’m not stone-cold sober, I’m sober enough that I know exactly what I’m doing and am alive enough to feel and remember every single minute of it.
When I kiss her, it feels like the first time. Because this time, I can let something grow between us, knowing I can be more like the kind of man she deserves.
My lips brush over hers, whisper soft at first, before the kiss catches fire.
I cup the side of her neck, my thumb brushing her cheek as a soft whimper slips from Daisy’s mouth. My tongue licks against hers, the sweet taste of her passing between the two of us.
Her hand comes up and grips my bicep, and I can’t resist sliding my hands beneath her ass and lifting her until she settles over my hardening cock.
Her legs wrap around my waist, hooking her to me as I move one arm to hold her around her waist. Daisy wraps both arms around my neck, and I shift the two of us to lie her down on the bedding.
But unlike the old me, where the fun was getting off, the fun now is simply being here with Daisy.