“Daria.” I reach for her arm, but she snatches it away from me. “I’ll get going then.”
“Remember the trash.”
I sigh and storm out, wound up tighter than I was before I arrived.
This fucking woman is a conundrum.
Chapter Nineteen
Daria
Staring out onto my back yard, holding my steaming cup of coffee with both hands, I think about last night and this morning. Striker came by early to ask if Emily wanted to go see a movie with him, but it quickly turned out that it was just an excuse to come over for a repeat of last night, so I sent him on his way.
I saw a different side of Striker after everyone left. A softer side. I still can't believe he bought her a puppy. A small smile pulls at my lips as I think of her face lighting up when she saw his cute little face poking out from Striker’s large arms. I wasn't really mad, like I told him last night. I was planning to get her one for her Christmas. Then there was the touching of hands as we watched the movie as a family. It felt right, like we were supposed to be this happy family all along. I feel myself blush when I think about what happened next on the breakfast bar. I can't believe we did that. I'm supposed to be with Brad. I'm no cheater
Really? How many times have you had sex with Striker since being with Brad?
Too many.
But I can't help but want to jump his bones until I forget my own name. It has to stop. Or I have to break it off with Brad.
“Hey, Mom.” Emily walks in, yawning, followed by Blue, who jumps up at my leg. “Can we go see Pops today? I want to show him my puppy.”
“Of course. That was my plan today anyway.” I place her breakfast down in front of her. “Do you want to go to the mall too?”
“Nah, I just want to go to see Grandpa and then come home.” She takes a sip of her orange juice. “I need to call Amy to tell her about Blue.” Blue sits at her feet, waiting on a piece of bacon.
“We need to get Blue food bowls, food, toys and a leash,” I remind her. She nods her head, finishes off her breakfast, and goes up to get a shower.
Blue jumps at my leg again, whimpering. “You want another piece of bacon?” I give him a piece. “I don’t think this is very good for you, Blue.” I kneel down, patting his head, looking into his blue eyes. He wags his tail happily and barks. “Striker’s even getting at me through the damn dog.”
***
“Pops.” Emily runs to Grandpa, who’s sitting watching a war movie, Blue runs behind her, trying to get her shoes.
“There’s my little peachy-pie.” Grandpa’s eyes light up like beacons when he sees us walking in. Emily sits on his knee. Even though she’s ten years old now, she still loves sitting on his knee.
“Emily, watch Grandpa’s legs.”
“I’m fine, mo cridhe.” He rolls his blue eyes at me, then looks at Emily who giggles, mirroring his expression. “And who is this little fella?” Blue jumps up beside him on the two-seater chair.
“Blue. Dad bought me him for my birthday.” Her eyes sparkle when she mentions Striker.
“Jake bought her a dog?” Grandpa looks over at me, his eyebrows pinching in the middle.
“Striker.”
“I need to meet this boy who has brought back the sparkle in both your eyes.” Now it’s my turn to look confused. I tilt my head, wondering what he means.
“What?”
“Emily, go show Bert Blue. He loves animals and it’s his birthday. It would make his day.” Emily runs off to show Blue to Bert, who looks down at Blue and wipes his eye.
“So, Striker. Tell me about him.”
“There’s nothing to tell you other than he’s a really good dad to Emily. That’s all that matters.”
“Do you think I’m zipped up the back?” He snorts out a chuckle, shaking his head at me.
“What? He makes her smile and I’ve never seen her this happy in forever. If she’s happy, I’m happy.”
“And you?” He takes my hand in his. “Are you happy?” I look at our joined hands, mulling over his question.
After yesterday, spending the day with Brad, getting things ready for Emily’s meal, the whole time I was thinking about how it should have been Striker. Striker should have been there, picking up her cake and the banners. The whole tension with Striker and screwing him last night on the breakfast bar and throwing him out the way I did was on my mind too.
“Daria?”
“No, Grandpa.” I shake my head. “No, I’m not happy. I don’t think I’ve ever truly been happy since Dad took me to New York with him without Denise.”
“Mo cridhe, you know what I think about the situation with you and your father, and I tell him every time he visits too. Quite frankly, I’m sick to death of repeating myself. So, you can wipe that look off of your face.” He smirks when I scowl at him. “But, I will say this. When you mention Striker’s name, or even hear it for that matter, your eyes sparkle like diamonds and your whole face lights up.” I feel heat rise up my face. “You have feelings for that boy.” He squeezes my hand and offers me a small smile. “You just have to decide, is it Brad or Striker who will make you truly happy?”
Looking into my Grandpa’s eyes with blurry vision, this talk is what I needed and solidifies my thoughts from this morning. I need to choose before someone gets hurt.
“I’m scared.”
“Daria, love is the scariest emotion known to man.” My eyes widen when he mentions the word love. “Look at me like that all you want. I’m old, I’ve seen my fair share of people in love with the same look as you have right now.”
“I’m not in love with him.” My eyes blink quickly before widening, and I cross my legs.
“Maybe not right now, but you have very strong feelings for him, and not just because of Emily.”
“Thanks, Grandpa.”
“Anytime.” He pats my hand. “Now, let me beat you at dominos.”
“You wish, old man. I’m still winning forty to thirty-seven.”
We sit for another hour playing, and Emily is still sitting with Bert and playing with Blue. I beat Grandpa another four times.
“I’m beginning to regret teaching you how to play,” he grumbles.
“I love you, Grandpa.” I giggle, leaning down to say goodbye, kissing and hugging him.
“Love you too, mo cridhe,” he whispers softly. He looks to Emily and she hugs him tightly. “Look after your mom, peachy-pie.”
“Always, Pops.” He pats Blue’s head and we leave.
***
“Mom, can Dad come over for dinner?” Emily asks as we drive back from the store to get everything for Blue and some groceries. She’s been glued to her cell the whole time, taking pictures of her and Blue and trying to get me in a couple of picture too. She’s messaging back and forth with Striker,
“Um, not tonight, sweetheart.”
“Why?” I hear the disappointment in her voice and it kills me. I can’t say, ‘because, honey, your father confuses my feelings and makes me want to do very bad things to him.’
What the hell? Where did that come from?
“Brad’s coming over, so I don’t think it would be a good idea for them both to be over for dinner.” She huffs out a groan when I mention Brad. “Don’t you like Brad?”
“No, I don’t.”
Her attitude takes me by surprise. When I stop the car, she storms out, slamming the door after Blue jumps out. She waits at the door with her arms folded while I get the groceries from the trunk. I hand her a bag to carry so I can unlock the door.
Blue growls at something when we walk in.
“Hey, babe,” Brad greets me when I enter the kitchen. He makes me jump and I almost drop the bags I’m carrying.
“Hey, what are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“Well, that's a nice greeting.” He smirks, amused at my question. “You have a key under your doormat.” But, seriously, is this the norm nowadays? He comes over and
kisses my cheek. “Hey, Ems.”
“My name's Emily. Only my dad calls me Ems,” Emily snaps.
“Emily, go wash up. I’ll get dinner stared,” I call after her as she stomps up to her room after getting a glass of water.
“Whatever.”
I sigh, shaking my head at her attitude.
“Wow, someone clearly got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning.”
“Yeah. She's having a bit of a hard time in school.” I look towards where Emily has just gone. I hate using that as an excuse, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings and tell him that Emily hates him.
“Anything I can help with?” he asks.
“That's sweet, but Striker and I have it covered.” I walk past him to put down the groceries.
“Talking of Striker, did he have anything to do with the incident last night?”
“What incident?”
“The big fire and multiple dead bodies not far from his garage?”
Why is he asking me? Turning to look at him, I answer him honestly. “Brad, you know I have nothing to do with his club business. As long as he keeps Emily far away from that then it's got nothing to do with me.” Folding his arms across his chest, he tilts his head to the side. “Why are you looking at me like you don't believe me?”
Still, he says nothing, but he stalks towards me. “Oh, yeah? Then why did you go to see him and fuck him? And have done the past few months, week after week?”
My eyes widen. “What? Have you been following me?”
“I've been following you since you contacted the police about Emily, Daria.” He says it like it's a normal thing. Standing in front of me now, his chest touches mine. My heart feels like it's about to burst through my chest. “You know, for a smart woman, you really are dumb.”
A loud bang comes from the front of the house. I sidestep Brad, who has got me so confused with the last sentence he spoke to me. I come face to face with four big men, their faces covered with balaclavas. I try to make a run for the stairs to get to Emily, but something hits me on the back of the head. All I feel is heavy boots kicking me in the stomach, the chest, the back. Everywhere hurts. I still try to get to Emily.
“I was only with you was for information on the club, and even then you failed, just like you did in bed. Whore.” That's the last thing I hear before dark clouds over. My last thought is Emily.
Chapter Twenty
Striker
I walk into Daria’s house; the door was left unlocked. I’ll need to have a word with her about that. I hear music coming from the basement. I head down and I’m met with the sexiest sight of my life; Daria bending in ways I never thought possible for a human body. I feel like a creep watching her from the doorway, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from her. The way her body moves seamlessly along with the music, the way her long legs look when she stretches. Shit, I feel myself getting harder the longer I watch her.
Moving my eyes up her body to her face, the pained look evokes some sort of emotion I’ve never felt before. I hate the look on her face. I want to replace it with a smile or a look of ecstasy. But I know I’m probably the main source of the pain. She tries to do a move, but she falls onto her knees.
“Shit. Come on, Daria. Denver’s don’t quit,” she huffs out, shaking her head as she stands. She stretches her neck. Our eyes lock in the mirror.
Shit, caught stalking.
“Striker?” She bends, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off her. “Striker.”
I’m dumbfounded by the way she looks right now. A first for me.
“Striker, what are you doing here?” She starts pulling on an oversized t-shirt to cover up.
Baby, that won’t be on for long.
I shake my head. “I wanted to see if Emily wanted to go to the movies to see that new film she’s been raving about.” She’s been talking about this movie since she saw the trailer and I promised I would take her.
“We’re going to see my grandpa at the retirement home.” She picks up her bottle of water, bringing it to her lips. Man, I wish I was the bottle with her lips wrapped round it.
Swallowing hard, I try and calm myself.
I nod my head still gazing at her, wanting her to bend every way possible as I fuck her into next week.
She narrows her eyes at me, knowing full well I’m lying. “Is that all? I need to get ready to go see my grandpa.”
“With Detective Pretty Boy?”
“Not that it’s any of your business. I’ll be seeing him tonight.”
She walks by me, and I grab her wrist to stop her. “That’s where you’re wrong. Anyone who comes into Emily’s life is my business.”
Snatching her wrist from me, she shakes her head, laughing a little. “Brad isn’t in Emily’s life, Striker. There have been two occasions she has been in the same breathing space as him other than when she had to make a statement. That’s when we bumped into you on our date, and last night at her meal.” She regards me with annoyance.
Well, I’m fucking annoyed too.
“A meal he shouldn’t have been at.”
“Whatever, Striker. If that’s all you’ve come by for, you have your answer. Emily is busy today. You can go now.” She folds her arms across her chest, pushing her perfect tits up. Stalking closer to her, she unfolds her arms and starts backing up. “Striker, I’m with Brad.” Her voice comes out breathy and unconvincing. When her back hits the wall, I’m directly in front of her.
“I don’t care.” Bending my head down, our lips are so close together, we’re almost touching. Our chests touch and our breath mixes together.
“I care.” She swallows, looking down at my lips. “I’m not a cheat.”
I chuckle out a laugh. “You weren’t saying that last night, or the night before that and before that. Multiple times over if I remember correctly.”
I place my hands lightly on her hips, and she lets out a gasp, her breathing becoming shallower the more I touch her. Running my fingertips along the waist band of her yoga pants, I feel her stomach muscles tense up. I hook my finger, preparing to pull them down, looking at her lips then back up to her now closed eyes.
“Are you sure?” Our lips are still not touching. “I won’t tell. It can be our little secret.” My right hand descends further into her pants, about to reach my goal, but she pushes me off.
I didn’t notice it before, but I trip over a mat that was on the floor, landing on my back.
Gazing up at her, I don’t get a chance to blink and she’s climbing on top of me. I pull my shirt off over my head, and her lips crash with mine in a desperate need to get her fix. Pulling her yoga pants off, she grinds down on my hardening cock, our lips never leaving each other. The only thing between us is my jeans and her panties. Not for long. Spearing my fingers into her hair, I pull her closer, deepening the kiss.
“I can’t.” She stands on shaky legs after breaking the kiss and runs out of the room, leaving me with a raging hard-on.
***
When Daria kicked me out of her studio with my dick still hard as stone, I came to the clubhouse to work out my frustrations in the gym. The images of how she moved to the music and her body bending in ways I have never seen a human bend still swirling around in my head. Her beautiful eyes staring up at me and that defiant streak of hers. Fuck, I need to get her out of my head.
She’s with that detective dick. Just thinking about it, it makes me clench my hand into a fist. I fucking hate him, and it’s not just because he has Daria. Let’s face it, I can have her any time I want. Last night, this morning and all the other times proved that.
I walk out to the bar area after I wash the morning off of me and sit next to Chucky. “How was the meal last night?”
“It was good. Emily had a great time, that's the main thing.” So did I afterward. “Thank you for her gift and card by the way.”
“No problem. I heard you got your ass chewed again for buying Emily a dog without askin
g Daria.” Chucky chortles. “When will you learn?”
“It’s fun to wind her up.” I shrug while drinking my drink. “Brad was there.”
“She’s been dating him for months now, son. She maybe thought that it was time for him to be invited to family events.”
“Not happening. Emily hates him.”
“But, Daria doesn’t.” He gives me a sad look. “He might be in their lives for the foreseeable future, son.” He picks up his bottle of water leaving me to get back to work leaving me with my thoughts.
I know he's right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it or want the dickhead around my daughter. Or Daria for that matter.
I don't trust him.
I hate how miserable Emily is when Daria is with him or he comes over. Emily has told me several times that she locks herself in her room when he comes over. I’ve asked her why, but she just says she hates him. No other explanation just doesn't like him. There was one occasion she said she wished I was with them instead.
My cell starts ringing and I see Emily’s name flash up. A wide smile pulls at my lips.
“Hey, Princess.”
“Daddy.” Her voice is low and shaky.
“Emily, I can barely hear you.” I sit up straighter.
“Daddy, you have to come quick.” I don’t have time to answer because the line goes dead.
“Shit.” Shoving my cell in my front jeans pocket, I throw the remaining drink down my neck and make a beeline for my personal weapons cupboard.
“Where are we going?” my best friend’s voice asks from behind me as I pick out my favorite blade, just in case I need to cut a bastard’s throat.
“We aren't going anywhere. You stay here and look after your pregnant fiancé.” I look over towards a very pregnant, and very angry-looking Jess, who is glaring towards Phoebe, one of the new whores who has taken an instant liking to Nico. “And please, for all that's holy, keep her from going into labor.”
“Come on, bro. You know the rules. You go, I go. We go. Forever bros.” He rolls up his sleeve, showing me the scar on his left wrist. I have the same.
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