Daisy (Archer's Creek Book 2)

by Gemma Weir

  I’m literally on my knees begging, but I’d do it forever rather than have her retreat into herself. She flinches when I reach up to touch her face and I quickly drop my hand and move away from her. “Angel,” I beg, my voice broken.

  It feels like forever before she finally lifts her eyes to look at me again. The huge copper orbs are lifeless and only a tiny spark of something gives me hope that I haven’t frightened away the fire I’d seen earlier.

  I curve my hand around her cheek and look deep into her eyes, imploring her to see me. “I’m sorry, Angel. I might get angry, but you need to know that I will never turn that anger on you. Ever. Scream at me, Angel. Scream, shout, but please, please, don’t shut down.”

  Long arduous moments pass, then she nods and her eyes start to warm with life again. Carefully, I pull her into my arms and hold her until she relaxes into my chest.

  After a few minutes I pull back from our embrace. “Did they mention how much money your father owes?” I ask.

  “One hundred thousand dollars,” she says quietly.

  I whistle through my teeth. “Fuck.”

  “I need to get away from Archer’s Creek, Daisy. My father was celebrating, he was happy to work out this deal to sell me. Senator Carduccio is a powerful man and they talked about me marrying his son, but I’m not for sale. I’m not going to let him do this to me, so I need to run.”

  “Fuck, Angel, once Carduccio owns you he’ll track you down. He won’t let you run. He’s a really fucking dangerous man. He’s got ties to more than one cartel and enough dirty cops in his pocket to find you no matter where you hide. When’s your dad supposed to deliver you to him?”

  “He’s supposed to take me to a warehouse a week from today. Senator Carduccio said to bring me or the money.”

  I blow out the lungful of air I’d unknowingly been holding onto. “That’s good, Angel, that gives us a week to decide what to do.”

  “No,” Angel shouts, standing from the bed. “We don’t need to decide on anything, Daisy. I need to get as far away as possible from my father and then he can’t hand me over. I just need to get to Houston.”

  I stand up and Angel tips her head back to look at me.

  “Let me help you, Angel. I can keep you safe. What happens when your dad starts to search for you? What happens if he finds you? You’ll be on your own. Stay here, the club will protect you. I will protect you.”

  I watch as Angel processes my words. She has no idea how much danger she’s in. She doesn’t understand that unless we do something to make sure she becomes off limits to Carduccio, this might not end once the payment deadline passes.

  Angel opens her mouth to speak, but I interrupt her. “I like you, Angel. Let me protect you.” Then I kiss her. I pull her into my arms and hold her against my chest. My lips devour hers and our tongues entwine. She matches my intensity move for move. Wrapping her hand around my neck she digs her nails into my skin, holding me to her. Soft moans keen from her throat and unconsciously she rubs her hot pussy against my rock-hard cock.

  I force myself to pull away from her. I need to convince her to let me help and I don’t know if fucking her would persuade her to stay or make her even more convinced to run. “Stay here with me, let me help you, Angel.” I murmur against her lips.

  “I’ll stay for tonight,” she whispers.

  I let out a sigh of relief and crush her to my chest. Dropping a quick kiss against her lips I release her and move to pick up her bag from the floor. “You got any sleep stuff in here?”

  She takes the bag from my hand and opens it. I watch as she roots through her stuff and then turns to me and shakes her head, biting her lip nervously. “I didn’t pack any. I just have a couple of dresses and some underwear. I can just sleep in my clothes, it’s fine.”

  Walking across the room to my dresser, I open a drawer and I pull out a t-shirt and a pair of my boxers. I hand them to her. “They’re gonna be huge on you, but it’s better than sleeping in a dress. Do you wanna have a shower before bed? I gotta go speak to Prez for a minute.”

  She nods silently and steps toward me to take the clothes from my outstretched hand. The moment she gets close enough I pull her to me and kiss her quickly. “Shower’s just through there, clean towels are on the shelves. Use anything of mine you need, okay?”

  Angel looks up at me shyly. “Okay, thank you.”

  I kiss her again and smile. “I won’t be long, but just stay in here and click the lock on the door behind me.” She nods and watches as I open the door and leave the room.

  Leaning against the wall outside my room I wait to hear the lock click into place. My heartbeat starts to slow once I hear the reassuring clunk of the lock and I slowly walk down the corridor and into the main room of the clubhouse. Scanning the faces of my brothers, I find Blade within a group of guys sitting around the pool table. “Blade,” I call.

  He turns to face me with a wide smile on his face. “Fucking hell, Daisy, that was quick! I heard you had a pretty little piece of jailbait turn up asking for you. I figured you’d be balls deep by now.”

  Ignoring his jibes, I signal off to the side with my fingers. “I need a word.”

  Blade’s eyebrows rise in question, but he stands and follows me to the side of the room where it’s quieter. “What’s going on,” he asks.

  “Is Anders here? I need to talk to both of you.”

  Blade nods. “Yeah, he’s in his office I think. I saw him heading that way a while back.”

  Blade walks toward Anders’ office and I follow behind him. The door is open and Anders waves us in when he sees us. I close the door behind us and both men stare at me expectantly.

  “What’s up, Daisy?” Anders asks.

  Aggravated, I pace the small space between the chairs and the door. “Prez, the girl that turned up asking for me is Angelique, the mayor’s daughter. I don’t know all the details, but the reason Carduccio went to visit Jefferies today was because our fine mayor owes the Senator a hundred grand. It doesn’t look like he’s got the money because he negotiated a trade of property instead of cash.” Fisting my hands into my hair I pull at the strands. “The fucking asshole agreed to give them his daughter to cover his debt.” I say, my voice a deadly snarl.

  “Daisy, calm down.” Anders growls.

  “He tried to sell her. I can’t fucking calm down.” I shout. Stopping my pacing I stand behind a chair, my fingers gripping the black fabric tightly.

  “Where’s the girl now?” Blade asks.

  “She’s in my room. She wants to run. The only reason she came to me is because she needs to get to Houston. I’m not gonna let Carduccio have her, Prez, no fucking way.”

  “Of course we’re not gonna let her go to Carduccio. For fuck’s sake we don’t condone human trafficking, we’ve never touched that shit. But right now, we need to stay calm and think about how we’re gonna handle this. She’s not part of the club. I don’t know if the rest of the brothers are gonna be up for a stand-off with Carduccio for a girl you just met. Plus, this could all be an act; the girl could be working with Carduccio to infiltrate the club.”

  A growl escapes me, and I squeeze the chair between my tense fingers. “She’s not playing a part, Prez. She’s scared and running. She overheard her dad and Carduccio talking about it. Apparently the mayor wants to marry her off to Carduccio’s son, but either way he’s supposed to hand over her or the cash in a week’s time.”

  Anders taps the top of his desk with a finger, staring thoughtfully at me. “Go fetch her. I want to talk to her.”

  I nod and turn to leave, then pause and turn back to him “She scares easy, so don’t be a dick to her.” I don’t wait for a response before I open the door and start walking back to my room and my Angel.

  Daisy leaves the room and I quickly lock the door behind him and sink onto his bed with his clothes clutched in my hands. A ragged breath escapes me, and I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my chin on them.

  What the hell am I doing here
? I’m so out of my depth. The guy from the gate scared the hell out of me and now Daisy’s overwhelming me too. His kisses scramble my brain and somehow instead of running away from Archer’s Creek as fast as I can, I’ve agreed to stay, at least for tonight.

  Daisy is so potent that I can’t help being drawn to him, but I don’t want to pull him into the mess that is my life. The man is a whirlwind and even though the violence of his anger scares me, the peace and calm I feel in his arms is so tempting that I’m struggling to say no.

  It’s the first time since my sister died that anyone in my life has offered to protect me and the idea is so unbelievably enticing, that I want to agree and stay shielded in his safe, warm arms. But this isn’t his mess, it’s mine and I won’t put him, or his friends in the middle of it.

  Resolved, I drop my feet to the floor and stand up. Daisy’s offer of a shower sounds wonderful and I cross the room to his bathroom and close the door behind me. The small room is surprisingly clean. Reaching into the shower, I twist the lever that brings it to life and steam quickly fills the small space.

  Stripping out of my clothes, I place them neatly on top of the counter and then step into the shower. The torrent of scolding hot water hits my naked skin and I shriek, jumping out of the water’s reach. Fumbling with the lever I try to turn down the heat, but the water changes from scolding hot to freezing cold. I twist the lever the other way, testing the water with my hand until finally, I tentatively move my entire body back under the shower spray.

  I moan in pleasure when the warm water hits me and the knotted muscles between my shoulders gradually start to relax. My eyes fall closed and I tip my head back under the water. All I can hear is the noise of the shower and the racing of my own heart. Breathing becomes hard and my sinuses sting with the onslaught of tears. I’ve held myself together all day, but here, naked in the shower of a virtual stranger, I fall apart. Grief, fear, and anger consume me and sinking to the floor of the shower I sob uncontrollably.

  The hot tears that run down my cheeks are immediately washed away by the deluge of water that’s pouring over my body. I allow my despair to engulf me for a few minutes, and then I force all of the emotion into a box in my brain and lock it tightly. I can process my father’s betrayal another day when I’m far from his grasp and no longer under his control.

  Pulling myself together, I rise from the floor and turn my face under the water to wash away the remnants of my tears. I sigh as I remember that my shower things are still in my backpack. There are bottles stacked neatly on a shelf to the side of the shower, so I reach out and grab his shampoo. Squeezing some into my hands, I lather up my hair, breathing in the clean soapy smell that is masculine but not unpleasant. Returning the bottle to the shelf I find a shower gel and wash my body quickly as the water starts to cool.

  Turning off the water, I reach for a clean towel and wrap it around my wet body. The mirror above the counter is covered in a layer of condensation and I lift my hand to wipe it away then pause. I don’t want to see the fear and uncertainty that I’m sure will be obvious in my eyes, so I lower my hand and leave the glass hidden.

  Quickly drying my body, I wrap the towel around my wet hair and pull Daisy’s t-shirt over my head. It falls almost to my knees. The fabric smells delicious and I lift the cotton to my face and inhale deeply. I pull on his boxers, but they immediately fall to the ground. The waist is far too big for me and I try rolling the fabric of the waistband to make them tighter, but as soon as I release them they fall straight down again. Giving up, I grab them from the floor and add them to the pile of clothes in my arms as I re-enter the bedroom.

  My eyes fall to Daisy who is sat on the end of his bed. I’m barefoot and only wearing his t-shirt. Feeling uncomfortable, I pull at the hem of the shirt hoping to somehow make it magically longer.

  He looks up and his eyes narrow. “What the fuck happened to your face?”

  For a split second I just stare at him. What’s wrong with my face? Realization dawns on me, he can see the remnants of my father’s punishment. My face is a mess of bruises and I just washed away all of the makeup that was hiding them. The after effects of my father’s temper are never talked about. Mama was so good at her makeup that I only ever suspected what it hid and whenever he hit my face we never talked about it. His abuse was the eternal elephant in the room, constantly present but never acknowledged.

  “Angel.” His voice is a low growl and I instinctively drop my eyes to the floor and stay quiet. I flinch when his fingers lift my chin, and I force my eyes to meet his. The anger in his gaze is palpable but as his soft fingers trace the bruises on my cheekbones and around my eye it turns to sorrow. Each emotion flares so vividly across his beautiful face that I stop breathing for a moment.

  “Angel, who did this to you?”

  Telling him the truth will only pull him even deeper into my life and I can’t allow that. Instead I reach up and lift his fingers from my face. Taking a step back I turn and walk away from him.

  “What the fuck happened to your legs?” He roars.

  I spin around, clutching the clothes to my chest and hiding my bruised and battered legs from his eyes. Daisy strides toward me and I back away. “Daisy, no,” I cry.

  Ignoring me he pries the clothes from my fists and drops them to the floor. Firm hands wrap around my waist and lift me to stand on the bed. “Daisy,” I shout and try to move, but his unrelenting grip on my waist stops me.

  Careful fingers lift the hem of his t-shirt, exposing more of my abused skin. “How far up do they go?” his voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

  I sigh. “To the base of my spine.”

  “Belt?”

  I nod.

  “Your dad?”

  I nod again.

  I feel, rather than see him drop the hem of the shirt and walk away from me. Shame fills me, and I want to curl in a ball and hide from the mortification of admitting that my father did this to me.

  Holding the hem of the shirt I silently step down from the bed and hurry to my backpack. Pulling out a pair of clean panties I glance at Daisy, his prone figure is facing the door with his hands braced on either side of his head.

  I step back into the bathroom, remove the towel from around my head and pull on my panties. The wounds on my legs are sore, but until Daisy saw them I’d forced the discomfort to the back of my mind. The first time my father punished me this way I had allowed the pain and agony to show. That had only angered my father further and I quickly learnt to pretend I was fine.

  Reluctantly, I open the bathroom door, expecting to find the bedroom empty. Instead Daisy stands a few feet away, waiting for me. His eyes blaze with fury and sorrow and some emotion that I can’t quite identify. I wish I could ask what it was. I don’t want his sympathy and my stomach churns at the thought that he might feel sorry for me.

  Stepping into the room, I fight the urge to lower my eyes. Ignoring my years of conditioning I strive to accept his gaze and offer him mine in return. My insides quiver; I should cower from him, to submit to his anger and protect myself. But despite the fury that’s so evident in him, I don’t fear him.

  My father shows the world his mask of cordiality and affability, but the real Mayor Jefferies is cruel and heinous with no regard for right and wrong. I wonder how many of his friends and constituents would believe he beats and abuses his wife and daughter?

  We all wear a mask; mine hides both the crumbled ruins my father’s abuse has created and the strength and resolve I’ve had to suppress to survive. I want to see beneath Daisy’s mask. He told me I make him feel and even though he tries to hide his emotions, right now I can see them all too clearly.

  “Come here.” His words are softly spoken but resolute, and I cautiously step closer to him.

  “When did he do that to you?” He asks.

  My voice is barely above a whisper. “Four days ago.”

  Daisy audibly pulls in a ragged breath. “Because you snook out?”

  I nod.

&nbs
p; “Motherfucker,” he cries.

  My insides quiver in the face of his anger. My mind starts to retreat to my safe place, but I shake my head and pull back my shoulders. Steeling myself, I lock my chin in place and force my eyes to stay focused on his.

  “Is this the first time he’s done that to you?”

  I maintain my eye contact and silently shake my head. I’m not looking for his pity; this is my life and though I may cower, I’m not broken.

  The roar that escapes from his throat is animalistic and grabbing the chair he threw earlier, he swings it against the wall, hitting it over and over against the brick.

  My resolve to be brave lasts until the wood cracks. The noise splinters something inside my mind and without realizing I’m moving, I back into the corner of the room and sink to the floor. I fold my head against my knees and close my eyes tight, silently humming the melody that allows me to separate my mind from my body.

  Some part of my brain registers when the noise stops. It registers the gentle hands that wrap around my waist and the cool air that brushes across my skin as I’m lifted from the floor and held tightly in warm arms.

  “Angel.”

  I fight to stay hidden in the safe place my mind has created to deal with the darker side of my life. A voice begins to entice me back to the present, but I don’t want to live in the present. I want to stay safe and cocooned in my warm and fuzzy subconscious.

  “Angel, please?”

  The voice calls to me and the blackness starts to recede. I hum the tune louder in my head. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and I hold my knees even harder to my chest. No. I’m not ready to go back yet. I want to stay here, safe and protected.

  “God. Fuck. Angel, I don’t know what to do.”

  The voice is low and so full of pain that I stop humming. The blackness recedes, and I start to feel my body again. I examine my fingers first, mentally checking them for sensation. I move up to my wrists and into my arms, waiting for the pain to hit me.