Daisy's Choice (A Tale of Three Hearts)

by Mynx, Sienna

Pete blinked out of his stupor. He threw the door back open and charged inside. Aiden strolled into the living room non-pressed. “What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped to his back.

  “Pete?” Daisy said hurrying down the stairs, gripping the banister tightly to keep from falling the rest of the way. She seemed distressed. It was worst than he imagined. Aiden Keane had him followed and then forced his way in. He glared after him now in full rage, ready to pound on him until he got some satisfaction. Aiden, for his part, just gave an evil smile, daring him to step closer.

  “Did he force his way in?” Pete asked taking a step toward Aiden. “You did, didn’t you? Well this ain’t Vegas. Your money don’t mean shit here. I don’t see your body guards… just me and you.”

  Daisy hurried off the final step. She was in Pete's face. He tried to shove her aside, but she shoved back, forcing him to deal with her instead. ”Pete, don’t. Amy’s upstairs.”

  “Get rid of him, Daisy,” Aiden said, clasping his hands behind his back.

  “What? Get rid of me? You psycho! Call the police, Daisy!” Pete shouted, shoving her aside, ignoring her repeated pleas for him to calm down. “What you do? Follow me? That’s it! Isn’t it! Stalking and harassing her? You’re some kind of sick freak! Call the police, Daisy. Now.”

  A wry but indulgent glint appeared in the swirl of the green of Aiden’s eyes. He stepped forward as well.

  “Pete, stop! Listen to me! You too, Aiden. The both of you just stop!” she said, getting between the men with a hand on each of their chests to keep them apart.

  Pete looked at her again. Her eyes cast downward and her arms stretched out between the both of them. Something was terribly wrong. She wasn't frightened or worried. “What are you waiting for? Did you invite him in?”

  “Just like old times huh, Pete?” Aiden chuckled, and Pete cut him a look once more. “The three of us together. Well not exactly three… we are missing a player. Wonder what old X-tacy is up too?”

  “Shut up!!” Pete leveled a finger at him. He looked back to Daisy. “Talk to me. What’s really going on here?”

  “Talk to him. Let’s not keep Pete in the dark; he’s all grown up now.”

  “Shut your fuc-king mouth!” Pete snarled.

  Aiden’s eyes darkened.

  “I won't put up with this. Do you hear me? You two are acting like babies.” She dropped her voice. “If you want to fight, do it outside!”

  “Daisy let me in, Pete. She always does. Right, Daisy? Just like she did two days ago in Arizona.”

  “Shut up, Aiden!” Daisy snapped. She turned on him. “Stop it!”

  Aiden smiled. He held Pete’s stare, Pete’s gaze slowly arched back and forth between them, absorbing their familiarity, seeing, really seeing what was there. Aiden nodded as if he read his mind and knew the pieces were being put together.

  “Aw… Pete gets it, Daisy. It's about fucking time,” Aiden snapped.

  “Get out!” Daisy snapped. “Get out of my house right now, Aiden.”

  Pete felt a lot of things in that moment. Worse of all, he felt the sting of her betrayal all over again; repeated blows to his heart over a woman that never cared for it. How could he have risked everything with Nina for this?

  It was all for Amy, he reminded himself. Still, to know that Daisy felt anything for Aiden Keane shattered what little faith he had left in her.

  He looked away from her. It hurt too bad to gaze upon her now. And Aiden, the bastard, wasn’t done with him yet. He continued in a mocking tone. “I get it, Petie. You think my daughter is yours? Still confused aren’t we?”

  “She is mine,” Pete said, looking to Daisy once more. Daisy finally met his gaze, her eyes glistening with tears that trembled on her long lashes.

  “Daisy?” he asked.

  In his heart, he knew. It was something he just refused to accept and that he prayed against in the back of his mind since he found her. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Amy wasn’t his. Maybe, most possibly, that little girl he felt a connection with when he first saw her was Aiden’s. “Did you use protection with him?” he asked, his throat going dry and his stomach clenching as it churned into a tighter knot.

  She avoided his stare and looked back to Aiden. “Go! Let me talk to Pete and explain.”

  Aiden chuckled, “No. I want to hear the answer. Did we use protection in Vegas? Do we ever?”

  “You’re sleeping with him?” Pete asked.

  “No, Pete. I mean, it’s not what you think. Damn it, Aiden! Shut up!” Daisy said, shaking her head in frustration. “The both of you, coming at me at once. I can’t do this.”

  Aiden smiled. “She’s mine, Pete. Always has been. I told you that back in Hollow Creek. You don’t listen very well.”

  “I don’t belong to you! Either of you, damn it! I don’t owe you two anything!”

  “The hell you don’t! This is your mess!” Pete shouted at her. “Yours! You brought him into our lives after I warned you and…” Pete glared. “You don’t know? Do you? You really don’t know who Amy's father is.”

  “No, I don’t. And I don’t want to know. Because I knew neither of you could handle it. Even now, you’re more concerned with marking your territory than my child.” She hugged herself and walked away. “I won’t be ripped apart between the two of you. Get out of my house. Now.”

  Pete looked at her with disgust. “Who the fuck are you, Daisy? Who?”

  “I’m not Daisy anymore, Pete. Not the Daisy you remember.”

  “Time to go, Petie boy.” Aiden touched his shoulder. Pete swung, slamming his fist into Aiden's jaw that drove him back. But Aiden either anticipated it or recovered swiftly with a backhand slap across Pete's face, followed by two consecutive gut punches that were lightening swift.

  “Are you insane? Stop it!” Daisy gasped.

  Pete doubled over but managed an upward punch that winded Aiden. He seized the moment and charged Aiden with his shoulder bent low, taking him in the midsection with such force that they crashed through the patio doors. Shards of glass, splintering, flew outward as they both landed on the terrace floor. Aiden threw him off him. Pete didn’t have time to counter-attack when he was hit again in the face. He swung wildly to no avail. Aiden grabbed him by the throat and flipped him over the balcony. Pete landed with a thud on the hard sand. The wind was forced out of his lungs and he blinked blindly in pain.

  ****

  Daisy watched in horror as they both crashed through her glass door. She couldn’t scream or move. And the fighting didn’t stop. She found her legs only after Aiden flipped Pete over the balcony, rushing out to stop him, fearing the worst from the three-foot drop.

  “Aiden, Don’t! Stop!”

  She hurried to the balcony’s edge to see Pete rolling on his side, winded. Aiden headed for the stairs to go after him, but she managed to get ahead. “What have you done? Get out of my house. Go,” she said, shoving Aiden back, gasping and wheezing through her panic. She was desperate to separate them and end the madness. He was hurt. She saw his shirt ripped at the arm. It was wet from blood. “Sweet merciful God, Aiden. You’re hurt.” She touched him, but he knocked her hand away and turned and walked back through the shattered doorframe. She ran down the steps to her outdoor deck and out into the sand. “Pete?”

  “Don’t touch me!” he said, holding his side, licking his split bloody lip. “Stay away from me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell him to come here. He showed up. I didn’t mean for this all to happen, Pete... it went wrong.”

  “You’re a liar! Always have been, Daisy. You’re a liar and a whore,” Pete said through tears.

  “Don’t call me that,” she whispered. “That night things between me and Aiden got out of hand. I'd been drinking and they just did.”

  “Save it!” Pete said, unable to right himself in the sand. Stumbling back from her with the side of his face swelling, she could see from the favor he showed to his side that he was hurt. She reached again for him, but he stepped b
ack again.

  Daisy dropped her hand in defeat. She just stood there with her heels sinking in the sand, the ocean breeze blowing long strands into her face, which stuck to her wet cheeks. “When I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t tell you. I’d hurt you so badly, Pete. I couldn’t face my family and not know who my child’s father was. I didn’t want my baby to grow up hearing what I’d done. I didn’t want to have to explain her conception. Don’t you understand what this did to me? It’s my fault.”

  “Damn right it is. And his! The two of you disgust me. Worse of all, that poor little girl shouldn’t be with either of you!”

  ****

  “Daddy?” Amy said from the top of the steps. Aiden crossed the living room wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. He stopped and looked back. Amy stood there staring at him. He glanced at the crashed doors where Daisy was with Pete, then back to the stairs.

  "Yes, Amy, I'm your father."

  “Where’s my mommy?” she asked.

  Aiden took a step toward her and started climbing the stairs.

  ****

  “That’s it, Pete! That’s the entire story. You can hate me all you want, but I can’t change any of it.”

  “What about now? Can you change anything now? Like fucking a man you claim you hate!”

  Daisy glared at him. “What is this really about? Amy? Or me?”

  “I don’t know what you mean?” Pete spat blood.

  “That fight? This anger? Be angry at me for not telling you, but stop trying to punish me for something we both agreed too.”

  “I never agreed to you sleeping with a man without protection! Bringing whatever the hell he has between us.”

  “Maybe not, but you walked out before you even knew that truth. So don’t expect me to atone for that too! What happened between us happened and it’s over.”

  “Is she my kid or not?”

  “I don’t know. And to tell you the truth, I don’t want to know. I don’t want either of you. This ends here. It ends now.”

  “The hell it does. You think I’m going to let you keep me from my daughter? Let you and that psychopath raise her? You got me wrong, Daisy. We’ll find out who she is, and—”

  “And what?” Daisy said, her breath caught, her eyes searching his face. Pete looked to her with disgust. “I want to see Amy, but I won’t scare her any further. You get rid of your boyfriend and call me when it’s time to meet.”

  He walked off holding his side. Daisy stared at the ocean. She wiped at her eyes. Things were slipping fast. She’d lost complete control. There was no turning back and God help her, but she dreaded what would happen next.

  Chapter Twelve

  Come to my room...

  Her little fingers hooked around two of his. She asked for her mother at first, but when he stood over her, she lifted her round clear eyes and decided on him. A child’s prerogative he supposed. The little boss took his hand, pulling him along. He had no choice but to follow. His earlier intent was to leave. He was dead set on it. After seeing that look in Daisy’s eye once more of disgust toward him, it had done him in. Besides, his left arm was cut pretty bad. His anger was still evident, and well Pete was lucky he didn’t meet him down there on the beach sands.

  They walked along the hall, where he found a display of pictures. There was a breathtaking large black and white photo of Daisy in an exquisitely carved frame, her belly swollen and uncovered, a dark line down the center with a protruding navel. Her hands with nails delicately painted were pressed flat to it with fingers spread. The photographer didn’t capture all of her. The picture began at the swell of her breasts and the focus remained on the life she and he possibly created.

  His eyes moved on to the next. Amy couldn’t be but days old, so tiny and wrinkled in her mother’s hands. Little Amy was in her birthday suit held up under soft lighting with her fist clenched tight at the sides of her face. The baby had a peaceful smile that tipped the corner of her tiny lips. She had a head filled with dark curly hair.

  Others were of just Amy in the different stages of her growth; a toddler with wild curly hair––lightened by the sun and a round face with puffy cheeks pushed up high thanks to her bright smile. The photographer followed her around the day catching her in different acts of mischief in her room or about their home. Some Amy stopped and posed for. In others, she cried in the camera lens. And there were others where she looked on with wide-eyed innocence as if caught in mischief. He was captivated by it all. Amy was every bit her mother in beauty and spunk.

  He wanted to stare longer and absorb the history he was excluded from, but his little guide was persistent in her tugging. She led him through the hall to an open door. Her hand fell away as she hurried inside. He stopped just under the threshold. Amy went to stand under the television mounted on the wall. He surveyed her universe. There was a little table and chairs with dolls and stuffed animals seated before plastic plates and cups. Pink pillows and sheets blanketed a small canopy bed with too many ruffles. Shelves were stacked, within her arms reach, with books and an overflowing toy chest. Most were scattered about the floor. The entire scene––kid’s play––unnerved him.

  She looked back at him, a serious look to her face, her little brows furrowed in concentration. “Wanna watch my new movie mommy bought me, daddy?”

  He didn’t have a chance to respond. Amy wasn’t really asking. She dug about a lower shelf through her movies, her flower panties up in the air. Why is she walking around half dressed? Aiden swallowed. He looked back to the hall, expecting Daisy to come shrieking for him to leave. She didn’t.

  “Barbie and the Prince. It’s Cinderella, my favorite.” She ran over to him waving the DVD case in her hand. “We can watch together, daddy. Put it in. I get the remote.”

  Aiden accepted the movie. She was quite comfortable with calling him ‘daddy’. One meeting and she said it freely. Did she call all men daddy? Did Daisy allow other men around her? Was Pete called Daddy too?

  “Here you go.” She gave him the remote and pointed at her television.

  When he didn’t move, mostly because he found it hard to, she looked back to him, curiously. Her chin turned up to him as if he were some mythical giant she found and brought home to add to her collection of toys. There was wonder in her eyes and a familiar need; the kind he had as a child once wanting to have his father’s attention. He was transfixed in that stare. He softened and nodded that he would obey her request. Aiden cleared his throat and tried to communicate with her, though he struggled with a simple reply. “I can start the movie for you,” he muttered. Figuring it would be okay, she seemed to know what she wanted. And he was right.

  “Yay!!” she said from behind him, pushing at his leg, and then running off to get a doll and drag her chair from the table set. He pressed the button on the remote. The door to the DVD partition opened. He dropped in the disc and cued it up. When he looked back, she was seated in a chair that seemed to be her favorite, forcing her doll to sit between her legs.

  “It’s Barbie,” she grinned.

  Aiden nodded that he understood, then looked to the television set at an animation of a Barbie doll singing with forest animals. Amy hummed in her chair, running a comb through the knotty tangles of the doll’s hair. He glanced at the door once more and still no Daisy. His eyes narrowed as he conjured up images of her taking care of Pete; apologizing for breathing the same air as him, and begging for forgiveness from a man he didn’t think deserved her.

  Amy got up from her chair and went to him, taking his hand. “Sit down. This the best part.”

  Stiffly, he moved. His side and arm felt as if his skin was peeled away. Hot searing pain rippled through wounds he hadn’t discovered. He ignored the pain, taking a seat on her tiny mattress, a toy squeaking beneath him. A pink squeaky thing with purple hair. He tossed it aside and frowned. Amy stared at him as in disbelief. He wondered if the act offended her.

  “You got a boo-boo,” she said pointing to the blood on his dark sle
eve.

  “I’m fine,” he said, his voice gruff and his discomfort mounting. The kid made him nervous.

  “Tell mommy. She’ll give you a Band-Aid and a popsicle,” she said and returned to her chair. Aiden chuckled. Little Amy managed to do the impossible. She made him smile. “I’ll do that kid.”

  She sat back in her chair grinning while combing her doll’s hair. He stared up at the screen in time to see Barbie’s Prince singing about a chance to meet her; how he longed to be loved by her. Aiden thought it strange that they gave little girls movies about being rescued by a prince and dolls to play with to be mothers, but when men like him wanted to do the saving, the rescuing, the owning, it was a bad thing.

  He stared at Amy and something in him shifted, the darkness stirred, and his chest tightened. The faces of women he loathed and abused many times over replayed in his subconscious. They all were someone’s daughter, someone’s Amy. He’d done some pretty shitty things in his life; he imagined he’d do some even worse things if another Aiden Keane ever showed up one day to take Amy away. What would Daisy’s father have thought of him? He didn’t like this retrospective thing overcoming him. He never wanted children, because he feared the unknown, and he feared his own failure. But she was here. And now he had new fears. He turned away, not able to name them all.