A half hour later, he pulled into the driveway of the worksite, hoping to catch Daisy and talk to her. Her car was parked out front and he peered in the windows, checking out the passenger seat and back seat. There weren’t any big packages, so had she already dropped everything off at her warehouse space? Or had she brought everything inside already?
They were putting the finishing touches on the interiors this week and the landscaping company was coming next week. So…where was Daisy?
He saw that the front door was open and he walked inside.
Unfortunately, he stopped short when he heard her giggling. It was sweet and wonderful, but followed by the question, “What new kinds of guns have you been playing with?”
Daisy? And guns? What the hell?!
He stood there, waiting for more information.
But she only laughed. “Okay, so let me know how much. I’ll get the money to you as soon as the deal is made.”
And then silence.
Rocco wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but he didn’t like it.
She stepped out of the kitchen and saw him, a guilty expression on her lovely features. “You’re back! How was your lunch?” she asked.
“It was fine,” he replied, not bothering to give her details. His time with Lucas was…well, private. Rocco didn’t want to bother her with that side of his life. Besides, Daisy was happiness and light. She was grace and elegance. He didn’t want her to know about his rough upbringing or the number of times he’d been arrested as a kid until he’d gotten his head on straight.
She grabbed her bag that always seemed to be filled with different samples. “Good. I have to hurry. Ivy needs me for something,” she said and stepped closer, lifting up onto her toes to brush her lips against his.
A moment later, Daisy was just a breath of strawberry scented air and he inhaled, trying to absorb the scent of her.
Daisy wasn’t an arms dealer, he told himself. She wasn’t!
So what was that conversation all about? And then the envelope. The way she’d slid it across the table and the cautious way the gang-banger had pocketed the envelope.
What else could it be?
He remembered making assumptions of what Daisy was doing with Tony that last time. But…what the hell was going on now?
Nothing really made sense, but he knew one thing. He didn’t want Daisy to go to prison. But nor did he want her to be involved in something illegal.
“What a mess!” he sighed and rubbed his face, frustration hitting him hard as he tried to figure out what to do. Or how to figure out what she was doing.
Stepping out of the house, he walked to his truck and slammed it into gear. Rocco had no idea what to do at the moment, but he couldn’t be around her. He needed to think and come up with a plan.
Driving into Louisville, he drove to his favorite bar. As soon as he sat down at the bar, his phone started ringing. Instantly, he knew who it was. Sure enough, as soon as he looked at the caller ID, he saw Daisy’s name pop up. Sliding his thumb to the right, he ignored her call, instantly feeling guilty for doing so. He should go talk to her, find out what was going on. But whenever he was around her, she’d look at him with those big, brown eyes and he was lost. When she looked at him, he didn’t give a damn what was happening in the world, just as long as he could hold her.
Better to think and figure things out and form a plan than to lose himself in her sweetness again.
“Where you been, Rocco?” Ben, the bartender asked, immediately sliding a beer towards him.
Rocco caught the beer and lifted it to his lips, taking a long sip. When he set it down again, Ben was still waiting for an answer. “Working a job,” he answered casually.
“Yeah? We thought you’d gone to farther places. Word on the street was that you’d been fired from that place over on Fifth Avenue.”
“Word was right,” Rocco agreed.
“Then are the other rumors also true?”
“What would those be?” Rocco didn’t give a damn, wanting to be alone and figure out what he was going to do about Daisy. After watching his father be hauled away to prison too many times, he didn’t want to watch that happen to Daisy. But if she was selling weapons, what else could happen?
“We heard that you got a cushy job and pissed off Tom by poaching all of his best men.”
Rocco didn’t answer, unwilling to confirm or deny any of it.
“So, is it true?”
“Which part?” he asked, still stalling. He came to this bar because he could relax and enjoy himself, not have to talk a whole lot. He wasn’t getting that now with Tom asking him all these questions.
“You get a cushy job?”
Rocco had no idea how Tom would define “cushy” so he didn’t answer. “I’m working,” was all he would say.
Tom chuckled and nodded to someone who just walked in. “Well, Tom’s on a rampage. Or at least he used to be. He said you stole a bunch of his guys away from him and he wants them back.”
“Tom’s an ass,” Rocco replied flatly.
“We all know that. And whatever happened between the two of you, that’s none of my business either. The man doesn’t treat his crew right, so whatever you did or didn’t do to screw him over, good for you.”
Finally, Ben moved off and Rocco had the peace that he’d come in here for. But even as he sipped his beer, no brilliant plan came to mind. The only thing he could think about was Daisy and her smile whenever she walked into a room, or the way she hated to cook so much that she’d rather eat cereal. He loved cooking for her although his meals were significantly less elaborate than whatever Tony made for her. She didn’t seem to mind, which only made him more determined to make her foods that she enjoyed.
Damn, he loved cooking for her. And listening to her talk while he cooked. She shared everything! Her voice was soft and sweet as she went over her plans for the next few houses. He’d look at her drawings and she’d ask for his input, then incorporate anything he suggested. He wasn’t just the manual labor to her. He was a human being.
Hell, he was making good money! More than he’d ever thought to be earning. Which meant that she was most likely earning a higher salary. Why would she need to augment her salary with illegal arms deals?
Could her activities be legal?
Remembering the image of her sliding an envelope over to that gangbanger earlier popped into his mind. No, whatever that guy was up to, it had to be illegal. The guy had loved to paint buildings with his graffiti. If he wasn’t hanging out with his gang members, he’d been spray painting whatever wall seemed bare.
That guy wasn’t any good, Rocco thought. He finished his beer and ordered another. Ben was nothing if not efficient and already had one sliding down the bar towards him before his first mug hit the wood.
For the rest of the night, Rocco sipped beer, ignored his phone, and tried to come up with a reasonable explanation for why Daisy would be hanging out with ex-cons and talking about “new” weapons. But nothing made sense.
By midnight, he was finished. He’d had too much to drink to drive anywhere, but he wasn’t drunk enough to stop thinking. Calling a cab, he walked out into the cool, spring night, trying to figure out what he could do.
Hotel, he thought. He’d just sleep in a hotel. That way, he wouldn’t have to see Daisy or walk the streets of LowPoint tomorrow morning. It was Sunday night anyway. He just needed to be back in time for work tomorrow morning.
Daisy turned off her cell phone and pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders. Rocco wasn’t answering his phone and she didn’t know where he was. Had something happened to him? She’d called the local hospitals, but there were no admissions of a Rocco Barnes. She should call the police stations and find out if he’d been arrested. But if that were the case, wouldn’t he call her?
What if he was hurt? What if he’d gotten into a car accident and was bleeding on the side of the road in a muddy ditch somewhere?
She jumped up and grabbed her keys. Driv
ing the route to Louisville and back, she searched the area, looking for accidents. But nothing. She drove back to his apartment, but she didn’t see his truck outside. Banging on the door produced no Rocco. She was terrified for him! Finally, Daisy drove home, wondering if she might find him at her place.
She texted him once again, asking him to just let her know if he was okay, otherwise, she was going to keep on driving the streets looking for him.
Less than five minutes later, she got the text, “I’m fine.” Nothing else. Just two words without any explanation.
That relieved her worry, but now she was angry! He was doing it again! She’d somehow done something wrong in his eyes and now he wasn’t talking to her. It was one thing if she’d offended him or dome something that he didn’t like. But after all the time they’d spent together, she at least deserved the decency of a conversation!
Driving home, she slammed into her house and dove into her bed. Now she was pissed off! Hurt, angry, resentful, and…exhausted!
Chapter 11
The paint cans were heavy and the wire handles hurt her hands, but she hauled one after another into the house, setting them down in the rooms where the painters would need them later.
“Let me get that for you.”
Daisy swung around and glared up at Rocco. He looked horrible! His eyes were bloodshot, his skin a bit grey underneath the tan and his hair a mess, like he’d slept in his clothes all night.
She didn’t care! Not anymore!
“I got it,” she turned away from him and hefting the paint cans into the house.
“Daisy, let me…”
“I said, I got it!” she repeated and jerked the paint cans away from him. Without looking at him, she carried the cans inside.
“Daisy…”
She swung around, glaring at him. “Don’t!” she snapped.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t talk to me! You decided last night that I wasn’t worthy of conversation. So no! You don’t get to talk now!”
“You’re being…”
“Don’t you dare tell me that I’m being ridiculous!” she spat at him. “The last time you thought I was doing something wrong, you blocked me out of your life. You didn’t give me a chance to explain, just assumed the worst of me, and went on your merry way.” She took a deep breath. “I assume that I did something else yesterday that you didn’t like and now I’m unworthy of you again. So no! You set the rules. You decided to run away instead of telling me what I did wrong. So no! You don’t get to talk!”
Rocco stared at her and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms. “Ever?” he teased.
She huffed and spun around, stomping out of the house.
“Daisy…”
“Stop, Rocco!” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. He noticed tears in her eyes and felt like an ass, again. “I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’m not going to beg for you,” she told him. “A long time ago, someone treated me badly and I swore that I wouldn’t ever allow anyone to do that again. But then you came into my life and you’re wonderful and sweet and kind and you listen to me chatter on without getting irritated.” She took a breath and he wanted to kiss her. And stop the pain he could see in her eyes.
But she was already walking away and he could only stand there, watching and trying to figure out what was going on.
One thing occurred to him, Daisy was one of those honest, open people. She was asking for that in return and he hadn’t given it to her. Again. He was an ass. A complete fool.
“I thought you were selling weapons,” he called to her.
He watched her shoulders tense as she froze, then slowly turned around. “Weapons?” she asked, incredulously. He noticed the confusion in her eyes and knew that he’d been wrong. Whatever it was, he’d been wrong about her.
Walking over to her, he stopped a foot away. “You are right. When something goes wrong, I just cut that wrong out of my life. I’ve had to, Daisy. It was the way I learned to survive.”
The tears stopped, but her eyes were still bright with the tears she hadn’t shed yet. “I don’t understand.”
He rubbed a hand over his neck, trying to find the words. “My father…he’s in prison, Daisy. And my mother, she…uh…” he looked up at the ceiling. “She sold herself to the highest bidder.”
“She was a prostitute?” Daisy asked, obviously not believing him.
“Sort of. Not exactly,” he sighed. “She jumps from husband to husband. She dumped me because I was a liability, Daisy.” He shrugged. “I learned from the experts. When something doesn’t work, just walk away.”
“I thought you were on your own since you were a teenager.”
“Exactly. I walked away from anything that wasn’t working. Gangs were bad, so I avoided them. Any class I didn’t like, I just stopped going. I’d end up in the library reading whatever I wanted to read.” He shrugged. “Construction work is a good job for me because there’s always another job, another project. When one job isn’t working out, I just move on to the next.”
“But you came so highly recommended!” she gasped.
“I learned quickly to figure out what was a good job and avoid the bad ones. It’s what I do.”
She stared up at him, her mind obviously working overtime. “So you walked away from me when you thought I was cheating on you. I was bad for you before.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“And yesterday, I did something to you and now you think I’m bad again. So last night, you just…you walked away?”
Again, he didn’t like the way she phrased it, but there was no getting around the truth. “Yeah.”
She nodded her head, thinking about everything he’d told her. “I see. So…” she shook her head. “Nope. Actually, I don’t get it. I thought things were good between us. What did I do?”
He stepped away and walked around the room. They were the only two in the house now that all of the construction was done. The crew was at the next house, so they had a bit of privacy. “Daisy, I saw you downtown yesterday afternoon.”
She thought back, trying to remember what she’d been doing yesterday. “You mean when I was having lunch with Toby?”
“Yeah. Toby the Master.”
Daisy beamed. “Yeah, he’s a master all right. He’s brilliant, actually.”
Rocco stared at her, stunned. “Honey, that’s his street name! He’s a master at killing people!”
Daisy sat down on one of the paint cans. “I know. But he’s out now and he’s in training. And Rocco, he’s amazing!” she gushed, her hands spread out in front of her as if pleading with him to understand.
“Amazing at what?” he asked, shocked that she’d use those words to describe a man who had killed another human being.
“He’s an artist.”
Rocco waited, wondering if he’d misunderstood. “An artist? An artist of what?”
“He learned to paint in prison. He started out as a graffiti artist,” she said, ignoring the snort of disgust with that term, “and has now moved on to other kinds of painting. He’s brilliant and political and controversial…” she explained. Rocco still didn’t get it.
“He’s an ex-con, Daisy!” he snapped. “He shouldn’t have been released from prison!”
“He’s done his time. He just needs someone to believe in him.”
Rocco snorted again and she stood up. “Rocco, by your own admission, you were in and out of the juvenile system when you were a kid. But look at you now! You’re a good man now.”
“Not the same, Daisy.”
“It’s exactly the same,” she argued right back.
“How so?”
She shook her head. “Does it really matter? Toby is a fabulous artist, but you have to see his work to understand. But you’re not going to give him a chance.” Her eyes widened. “Is that why you rejected me again yesterday? Because you saw me having lunch with Toby?” She stared at him, aghast. “Again? You’re jealous of
me having lunch with someone who wasn’t you?!”
“No!” he huffed, then realized how bad this looked. “Daisy, I don’t think you were…”
Daisy snorted. “Oh, really? So what did you think we were doing? “
“I thought you were selling weapons!” he roared, throwing up his hands. “I heard you yesterday talking to someone about new weapons and how interesting they were and what they could do. I saw you pass money to an ex-con, a known gang member!” He huffed, running his hands through his hair. “And I assumed wrong.”
Daisy continued to stare at him, not sure she understood. He was pacing back and forth and she was trying to keep up.
“Okay, let me get this straight. Your father is in prison. Your mother abandoned you so that she could marry husband number four.”
“I think it was five at the time.”
She closed her eyes, giving her head a little shake. “Five. Whatever.” When she opened her eyes again, he was standing there, looking guilty. “You saw me having lunch with an ex-con, saw me hand him an envelope with what looked like a bunch of cash, then you heard me talking about guns to someone else.”
He sighed. “Yeah. It sounds a bit crazy now that you lay it all out there like that.”
He turned around and started pacing. “I had this all worked out in my mind. I was going to hand over my investments, give you the money if that was what you needed. I was sure that you weren’t doing anything illegal just for money, but there must be some reason. Your brother needed help or maybe Ivy, or Marilee. Hell, you’d probably even do something crazy for Tony, wouldn’t you?”
Daisy covered her mouth with her hand, watching him walk back and forth. He was obviously still working this out in his mind. When he finally turned to face her, she saw it. It was there, in his eyes.
“You love me,” she whispered.
He spun around, looking down at her and she laughed.
Tempted (The Lottery Winners Book 2) Page 13