“It wasn’t that bad!” She chides me in a joking manner, buttering a complimentary piece of bread.
“It was, believe me.” I watch her bite down on the bread and manage to choke my own down. Right now I’m not thinking about eating food, I’m wondering about eating other things.
I almost die when she starts eating the Rangoon I ordered for appetizers. The noises coming out of her are almost like the ones that I produce, and suddenly I’m jealous of the food. I didn’t know it was possible to be jealous of food. I stab mine with a fork, and when she stares at it I try for a smile. Daisy scrunches up her face until I start behaving like a normal person.
I even make it through dessert, little fruit tarts with whipped cream on top. She’s had two glasses of wine, and her cheeks are growing rosy. I’ve been sipping on my water the entire time. I don’t want to think about Ronnie tonight but after what happened I’ve been more careful about what I do when I’m behind the wheel.
I’d like to think that he would have liked Daisy. She finds amusement where it shouldn’t be found sometimes, snorts when she finds something particularly hilarious, but never in public. And she can handle it when I go dark, pinning her down and getting so rough with her sometimes I feel guilty in the morning. But she never looks angry or like she’s been hurt. She always looks sated and loved when I see her first thing in the morning.
If someone would have told me I would fall in love with a woman that forced her way onto the back of my bike at an illegal fight, I would have laughed in their face. Then I would have chuckled all the way home. But I’m not laughing now as I pay the check and escort Daisy from the restaurant.
Her long hair whips around in a gust of wind, and she smiles as she pulls it away out of her gaze. I put my body between her and the wind to shelter her and hit the start button for my car. The vehicle starts up, and I’m looking down at her when the unthinkable happens.
There’s a pain that starts in my shoulder and radiates down through my spine and bounces back up again to the back of my neck. I hear the crack a split second after the pain overcomes me, causing me to grab my shoulder and fall to my knees on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. I hear Daisy scream my name, and when she screams again it’s different.
It raises the hairs on my neck and my arms it’s so earsplitting.
“Thought you could just take Big Man’s property, huh?” The man looms over me and raises the baseball bat again, about to hit me in the face with it.
Daisy lunges at him with one of her heels in her hand. She hits him close to the eye with the sharp stiletto. I see him whip out his free hand and grab her by the throat, pulling her off her feet. Suddenly the pain in my shoulder is nothing compare to the heat of rage flooding through me. I’m off my knees in a heartbeat, slamming into the man with all my strength and grabbing at the baseball bat with my right hand.
“I’ve called the cops!” Someone shouts out the restaurant door, and I shout back.
“Good!” I grunt with the effort of trying to keep the man down on his knees, but he’s larger than me. Daisy’s starting to turn red in the face, an alarming shade that is bordering on purple. She’s gasping for air like a fish gasps for water, her eyes bugging out in her face. If I don’t get this monstrosity to let go of her soon there’s going to be some serious damage.
So I do the only thing I can think of. I take my free left hand and go for the eyes. I don’t know how to describe what it feels like to shove my fingers into someone’s eye sockets, kind of like shoving two somewhat hard marbles back into a dense mush. And then the blood starts seeping out and some sort of strange goo. I pull my fingers back at the man begins to scream, something about his eyes. But he lets go of Daisy and forgets all about beating me with a baseball bat.
“Get in the car!” I tell Daisy, pointing at it. She’s dry heaving alongside the curb. I don’t want her anywhere near this madman, even if he is permanently blind.
I hear the sound of sirens in the distance, and they make my heartbeat race even faster. The blood rushes past my eardrums, making it hard to hear anything else. Daisy leans against the car with her hands around her neck, crying uncontrollably. I want to go over to her, comfort her, but my hands are full of blood and I think I might throw up. In fights I’ve always punched and kicked, never poked out someone’s actual eyes.
Wiping the goop onto my pants doesn’t make it any better. People are fleeing from the restaurant and by the time the ambulances arrive, followed by four cop cars, most of the patrons are either out on the sidewalk or gone. The man’s whimpering on the ground, the baseball bat still near him. I stumble onto the restaurant steps and put my head between my knees as the cops get out of their cars, their guns up, screaming for hands to be put up.
I put my hands up in the air and watch as one of the EMTs runs for Daisy, she’s still pretty red in the face, and there’re going to be angry bruises on her neck tomorrow. Cold steel wraps itself around my wrists and the restaurant patron that called the cops comes storming up.
“He didn’t do a damned thing but defend himself!” The man yells, pointing at me. I’m glad someone’s on my side.
“And he can explain that to me while he’s in cuffs.” The officer calmly tells the man, keeping me seated on the steps. Daisy’s looking at me as the EMT tries to get her pulse and help her to her feet all at the same time. I wonder if she can even talk or if her windpipe is shot. I guess if it was that awful she’d be in the ambulance already, but I feel the need to go over to her and check her out myself. It’s too bad I’m in cuffs.
“Alright, explain to me what happened, sir.” The officer stands in front of me with one hand on his holstered weapon and the other on his hip. I feel like I’m sitting alongside the highway all over again, my bike up and my eyes glued to the grill of the eighteen wheeler. Except its Daisy leaning against my Mustang, refusing to go anywhere.
“Could you tell them to let her stay until I’m done here? So I can go with her?” I ask the man, and he looks back at Daisy who’s staring at me. Silent tears are trailing down her face, and I’m not sure if she looks guilty or if is she looks frightened, maybe both.
“Sure, don’t move,” he seems to understand that I’m not a threat and grabs one of the EMTs. I don’t hear what he says, but the man looks back at me and then at Daisy. He nods once and heads over to tell Daisy what’s happening. She allows them to lead her to the ambulance when they tell her they’re not leaving without me.
The officer takes my statement, collects the evidence from my fingers, and helps me to my feet. He tells me to stick around town and undoes my handcuffs. I stumble for a second, the pain radiating down my back again. But when I see that Daisy is still conscious and waiting for me I straighten up as best I can and shake off the officer’s helping hand. I don’t want her to see me as weak.
When I get to her, I climb into the back of the ambulance and help her to her feet with my strong arm. I sit her down on the waiting gurney and take a seat on one of the benches as the doors close. The EMT says nothing as he checks out my shoulder, poking and prodding until I hiss in pain.
“Dislocated,” he mumbles, grabbing a sling from one of the compartments and wrapping it around my arm. I keep my eyes glued to Daisy’s the entire ride to the hospital. It’s not quick since neither one of us are in immediate danger.
“Daisy,” I finally say her name to get her to stop crying. She’s hiccupping, and the swelling around her neck is starting to look angry. It doesn’t help that she’s bawling.
“Daisy,” I try again, firmer. She finally seems to come back to herself and realizes that she’s staring at me. Her face falls forward into her hands and I hear strangled sobs coming out of her throat. I’m not sure, but I think I hear her say she’s sorry. I won’t have that. She can’t be sorry.
I glance over at one of the EMTs who’s getting ready to dose her with a sedative and shake my head minutely. I manage to struggle to my feet in the moving vehicle and sit next to her on the gurney, pul
ling her against my good side, my left side. She’s stiff at first, but as we get closer to the hospital and her bawling turns into quiet tears again she leans into my side and grips my shirt with her hands.
Maybe it never quite sunk in until now, but I never realized how bad some of these girls actually had it. I’d heard of things like this on the news and from Ronnie, but I’d never witnessed it. That man would have wrung her neck if I hadn’t intervened, and he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. I hope he lives, not because I’m feeling guilty, but because I want to find his blind ass and rip off his balls.
I’m jostled out of my thoughts when the door to the ambulance opens, and the two EMTs try to help Daisy from my arms. Maybe it’s the reminder of Ronnie’s death, her strangled cry, or just the adrenaline finally giving me one last kick in the ass. I punch the man in the face and get stabbed in the arm with a needle for my efforts.
The entire world becomes gray and unfocused, but Daisy saying my name reaches my ears. She’s stroking my face and my hair, telling me that she’s right there.
“I know, promise you’ll stay.” I manage to choke out, balling my hand in her hair. I see her nod once before I let my head fall back and I’m floating along in a sea of darkness.
***
I’m on my motorcycle, the wind whipping past me and the cool air chilling me to the bone. I’m wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, and the bugs are hitting me in the chest, like little razors slicing through me. I look down at my bike, prepared to see Ronnie’s face looking up at me. But instead of his face I see nothing but my own bike.
“Caleb?” I hear a familiar voice shout. I look to my left and see Daisy. Her hair is flying back behind her, and her eyes are bugging out as she stares straight ahead. I don’t need to hear the Jake brake to know what she’s seeing. I can see the headlights washing over her face.
She’s riding on the Ronnie motorcycle, and just before I see her and the motorcycle slam into the grill I whip my hand off the handle and try to reach out to her. But she’s too far away, and I miss.
“Caleb, wake up!” Someone’s shaking my shoulder, yelling into my face. I can feel her breath on the skin of my nose and my eyelids.
Chapter Nine
There’s something soft and cool in my right fist, and I immediately let it go. I hear someone sigh in relief and open my eyes just enough to let the light in. My slit gaze falls on a male nurse standing just out of my reach, the front of his uniform wrinkled.
“Mmm sorry,” I try to tell him, putting my hand on my face. Daisy’s leaning over me on the left hand side, her hand on my shoulder as she stares down at me. Her hair is falling into my face, and I inhale deeply to smell it, it smells like the strawberry shampoo I got her at the mall. Some kind of organic stuff that makes her hair extraordinarily soft.
“It’s alright, I guess.” The guy tries to smooth out his shirt and reaches out with a stethoscope, which must have been what freaked me out in the first place. I let him take my pulse, listen to my heart and chest, and then he writes a few things down. My arm is wrapped up at the shoulder, and I wonder why he has to know my heart rate with just a dislocated shoulder.
Daisy seems to see the confusion on my face. “Because they sedated you, they have to make sure that you didn’t have any sort of reaction.” Her face clouds over as I push her hair back from her neck, looking at the angry, purple fingerprints all over it.
I put my shaking hand over the top of the marks and realize that my hand is just as large as the brute’s that hurt her.
“I was going to take you home and –” she puts a finger to my mouth and smiles down at me.
“Must be really good drugs for you to be saying that with your parents in the room,” she whispers, looking down at me with a warning in her eyes. I blink a few times at what she just said and raise my head to look around.
My mother’s standing at the end of the bed with a small flush to her cheeks and my father is busy studying the ceiling with his hands in his pockets. I’m so glad that my sister isn’t here, at least, I hope not. I glance around to make sure and relax when I realize she’s not. Daisy sits down in a plastic chair and pulls her hair forward to hide the marks again, her eyes downcast.
“Mom, Dad,” I don’t know what else to say. Last time I saw them I was trying not to flip out on Mrs. Needle. I took off with my sister on my bike and probably scared the crap out of them.
“I’ll, uh, go get some coffee,” Daisy mumbles, but I grab her hand and look her in the eyes.
“Stay,” I whisper, not wanting to be alone with my parents and unable to let her out of my sight. God help me if she walks out of this room I’m going to drag my sorry ass behind her. It’s not going to be pretty. She seems to realize that and sits back down in the plastic chair.
“Caleb, what the hell were you thinking?” My mother’s shriek is uncontrolled and has my ears ringing like there’s a mariachi band in there.
“Which part, Mom?” I’m not sure I get why she’s upset. I’m fine, Daisy’s fine, and she should care less about what I do with my life. I see her eyes flick towards Daisy’s downturned gaze and realize what she’s trying to say.
It’s bad enough we’ve just been attacked, now my mother’s going to pour salt on Daisy’s guilt. I can tell she’s feeling it because she never looks down, not around me. It’s like the life has been sucked right out of her.
“Don’t bother telling me,” I hiss at my mother, grunting as I sit up further in bed until I’m at eye level with her. “If you’re going to blame this on Daisy then you can get the fuck out of my room.” My voice is level, deadly calm. I’m not sure any of them realize it, but when I’m not showing how I feel is when I’m the most dangerous. I may not be the strongest man on the planet, but I can forcibly shove my parents right out of this room.
“Caleb,” Daisy starts at the same time my father finally looks down at me with heat in his gaze. If he wants me to be nice to my mother, she has to be nice to Daisy first.
“No, it’s no one’s fault but that asshole who hit me with the baseball bat. I don’t know why everyone seems to have jumped to the conclusion that it’s your fault,” I retract my hand from Daisy’s and use it to raise her chin up to look at me. “But they’re wrong, and so are you.” Her chin trembles against my fingers and I forget all about the fact that my parents are in the room until my father clears his throat and puts an arm around my mother.
“We’re not blaming anyone, son,” he says bravely. It looks like my mother might bite off his fingers if they get close enough. He can’t speak for the both of them.
“I’m exhausted, and I’d like to go home. When can we go?” I look over at Daisy and ignore my parents at the end of my bed. She looks from me to them and seems to understand that a storm is brewing. When the lightning strikes I don’t want her anywhere near. Now is not the time to let the thunder rumble.
“You can go home now if you want.” She tells me, standing up and flipping up the collar of my jacket. Something inside of me warms at the thought that she’s still wearing my clothes; it makes me feel like she wants me.
“You should stay in the hospital for a few more days, get your head straight!” My mother begs, putting her hand on my foot under the sheet. I don’t move my foot, but if looks could kill I think I might commit murder in this moment.
“I’m going home.” I grit my teeth and manage to swing my legs over the bed. Daisy takes my good arm and slings it around her shoulders, trying to support me. I’m a little wobbly on my feet, so I’m going to have to call a cab.
My mother is about to argue and my father tightens his grip around her shoulders, looking down at her meaningfully. At that point, I completely block out the fact that they’re present and stuff my nose into Daisy’s hair. It’s like its own sedative.
“Do you know where my stuff is?” I whisper to her, and she grabs my cellphone and wallet off a nearby chair. She leans down, grabs my clothes in a plastic bag near the end of the bed, and keeps her eyes o
ff my parents as she pulls the clothes out. My mother turns around as I start pulling on my pants, and then I manage to get my shirt on.
“Where are you going?” One of the nurses comes bustling through the door, and my mother turns around.
“He’s not in his right mind, you can’t let him leave!” She cries out, her shaking hands at her face. Her eyes are wide with fear, and I sigh.
“I’m fine, it was a dislocated shoulder that’s feeling pretty good right now. I’m going to pay my bill and get out of here if that’s alright with you.” The short, female nurse with a blonde bob and green eyes takes one look at my mother and then looks at me.
“You should probably stay until morning, but I can’t make you.” I shrug my good shoulder and pull out my wallet with my left hand. She waves her hand.
“We’ll send you a bill. Would you like to use our phone to call a cab?” My mother huffs and looks like she might throw a lightning bolt, so I start walking behind the nurse quickly.
“I think Daisy can call one outside on her cell.” I point the next sentence at my parents, and I mean it. “Thanks for coming, but I’m fine. I’ll let you know if I’m not.” Daisy keeps her gaze straight ahead. Her jaw is set as she helps me from the building. My mother tries to hug me as the cab pulls up to the curb, but I stand there like a solid tree trunk.
Daisy tries to say that she’s sorry again and I put a finger to her lips, shaking my head. There will be no more apologies from her, especially when I’m the one who should be apologizing. I should have told her to never call my parents with something like this. My mother tries to make mountains out of mole holes, and she’s gotten worse since I moved out.
I let the brunette next to me tell the driver my home address and lock eyes with my father. He nods once as if he understands what I’m doing right now. It may seem cold, but I’m sparing my mother the fighting words that are running through my mind. I’m choosing to flee rather than to fight, for now.
Trouble Page 7