by Gemma Weir
“What’s wrong with you, why are you talking like that?”
I stand from the bed and circle around it to the other side where my backpack is leaning against the wall. “I’m fine. I’ll go speak to Anders and see if I can wait with him until Grits gets here.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Angel? Of course you can stay here.”
“Okay, thanks,” I say and then sit down on the edge of the bed with my feet on the floor and turn to face the TV again.
“I don’t know what the hell’s happening here. Have you been taken over by aliens because you’re talking, but it’s like I’ve never met you before?”
Turning my head to look at Daisy, I keep my face deliberately emotionless. “You just said that I shouldn’t be in here with you. I can’t just leave, but when Grits gets here, I’ll go.” My voice is monotone and passionless and Daisy gapes at me like he doesn’t recognize me. I hum the tune that helps me hide my emotions over and over in my head, the familiarity of the act calms me, and I sink into my mask. Hiding, always hiding.
I stare at the TV. I don’t want to hear what he’s saying because I can read between the lines. He’s used to women who know what they’re doing and I’m a virgin who doesn’t even know how to snuggle with him. A pathetic eighteen-year-old that’s been frozen in time for the last five years. “I understand you don’t want me here. I’ll go find Anders.”
Standing up, I reach for my backpack, slinging it over my shoulders. I take one step forward and Daisy blocks my path. I don’t make eye contact. Never make eye contact, it only makes it worse.
“Angel, I never said I didn’t want you here.”
“You said I shouldn’t be here. That’s okay, I understand.”
“Angel.”
I stare at a spot on his neck and try to sidestep him, but as I move, he moves with me blocking my escape.
“Angel?”
I ignore him.
“Angelique.”
The use of my real name jolts me, and my eyes shoot up to his face. My mask splinters. “Don’t call me that. You don’t call me that.”
“That’s your name. Angelique.”
My eyes narrow. “It might be my name, but you don’t call me that, you never call me that.”
“What do I call you then?”
“You call me Angel, you always call me Angel.”
Daisy steps closer and his hand slowly rises and cups my cheek. “I do call you Angel. But the person you’ve been for the last few minutes, that wasn’t my Angel. That person wasn’t you—it wasn’t your face, or your eyes, or your voice. I don’t know who that was, but that robotic version of you scares me almost as much as when you went catatonic last night.”
I close my eyes. “Look, Daisy, I think I just need to leave.”
“Fuck, Angel, I freaked out, okay? You told me you’re a virgin, and I freaked out.”
My eyes snap open and all the emotion I’d buried surges to the surface. “You’re freaked out I haven’t had sex?” I say acidly.
“Yes. I’m not the type of guy any virgin should be messing around with.”
“Okay, so you don’t want me here because I still have a hymen.” I say my voice raising as I start to step around him.
“That’s not what I said,” Daisy snaps and steps to block me again.
I desperately try to force down my emotions. “You said I shouldn’t be here with you, so I’m trying to leave,” I say as calmly as I can muster.
“I don’t want you to leave. I want to know what the hell happened a few minutes ago.”
“Nothing happened. Can you move please? I want to leave.”
“No.”
“No?” I repeat shocked.
“No, Angel, I won’t move. I want to know how your eyes went from dead a few moments ago to bright and sparkling with anger right now. I want to know what I did to make you turn into robot Angelique because I never want to do it again. Then once you’ve told me I’m gonna apologize for being a dick and freaking out.”
He takes a step closer, and I let him. His fingers curl around my chin and lift it up. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
I’m so weak—one small touch from him and I soften. “I thought I had to tell you what you did before you apologized?”
Daisy chuckles softly. “I’m probably gonna need to apologize more than once, so I was getting started early.”
The anger starts to melt from me and when Daisy pulls me down to the bed and into his lap, I go willingly.
“What happened, baby?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do, Angel.”
“I hide, Daisy; it’s how I cope,” I say quietly.
“So robot Angelique is you hiding?”
I nod.
“I don’t want you to leave, that’s the last thing I want. I just. Fuck, I’m bad for you. I’m older and I’m not a fucking virgin and I don’t deserve someone as innocent as you. You’re too good for me, and if your parents weren’t dicks they wouldn’t let me within ten feet of you. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, so when you told me you were a virgin I freaked out.” Daisy’s eyes are imploring me to believe him.
Pulling in a deep breath, I offer him a small nod. “I started to get angry with you and I’m not allowed to get angry, so I hid. I shut down. That’s how I cope. My life, well, err, it was better if I didn’t show too much real emotion. The other stuff, well yeah, I’m a virgin. I’m only eighteen that’s not really that unusual. I don’t feel unsafe with you, but I’d rather leave than have you be weird just because I haven’t had sex yet.”
Daisy slides the straps of my backpack down my arms and once it’s free, he drops it onto the floor by his feet. “This club isn’t a place for innocent virgins, but I’m selfish enough to want you to stay. I hate that your life has been so hard and that you’ve known anything other than love and protection. I’m glad you’re here and that I’ll have a chance to prove that I’m not bad for you. I like you, Angel, I really like you. You’ve woke something up in me, something that I’d buried a long time ago. I don’t really know how to do this, us, but I want to try. So, get angry at me. You know no-one here is gonna hurt you if you lose your shit and start shouting. Please don’t go robot on me again. I’m gonna fuck up and you’re gonna be pissed at me. That’s okay, we can be mad as long as we’re honest.”
“I’m only here for a few days,” I say in confusion.
“But what if you stayed longer than that?”
I shake my head. “I won’t ever be safe here. My father thinks I’m property that can be sold. I need to get away from Archer’s Creek and figure out who I am when I’m not scared all the time.”
He sighs. “Do you like me, Angel, or am I in this on my own? What do you feel when I kiss you? Do you feel anything? This might make me sound like a pussy, but every time I touch you I feel like I’m lighting up like a fucking roman candle. I won’t lie, I’ve kissed a lot of fucking women and the only thing that’s ever sparked to life is my cock. Everything’s different with you, but you need to tell me right now if this thing I’m feeling is all me or if you feel it too,” Daisy asks raggedly.
My eyes burn with the need to look away from him, his intense gaze heats my skin and makes my heart pound faster and harder. “I like you too. This feels like it could be something more, but I have nothing to compare it to. I’ve only ever kissed one person before and it didn’t feel anything like when I kiss you. I still have to leave, but you could come with me, when I go? We could start over somewhere new,” I whisper hopefully.
“This is my home,” Daisy says.
“It was my home too, but we could make some new place home.”
“This is my family, Angel,” Daisy says, his eyes sad.
“I didn’t realize your parents live in Archer’s Creek,” I say wondering who they are and if I’ve ever met them.
“No, no, I don’t have parents or siblings. The club is my family, the guys are my br
others. The Sinners are my home and I couldn’t ever leave that.”
“You don’t have parents?” I ask cautiously.
“Nope, I grew up in the foster system. Group homes mainly with the occasional foster parents. The only family I’ve ever known is the club—they took me in and gave me a home. I won’t ever turn my back on that, Angel. I owe them everything.”
My stomach churns with disappointment. For a moment I’d hoped that this man I hardly knew—who had become so entangled with what I think happiness feels like—might be part of my future. But obviously he wouldn’t leave his life behind to run away with me. “How did you end up in foster care?” I ask wanting to change the subject.
Daisy sighs. “Usual story. Mom was a drug addict, Dad was a blank space on my birth certificate. Apparently, my mom overdosed when I was two and I’ve been in the system ever since. They spent about a year tracking down my mom’s parents hoping they’d take me, but they weren’t interested, so I bounced from home to home until I hit eighteen and got booted.”
“I’m so sorry, Daisy.”
He laughs dryly. “You didn’t exactly win the parent lottery, Angel. The system wasn’t great, but I survived just like you did. We only get dealt as much as we can handle. I found the Sinners and then I found you. I’m feeling pretty lucky with my lot right now.”
“How did you find the Sinners?” I ask, eagerly taking advantage of this opportunity to learn more about him.
“The group home I lived in until I turned eighteen was in Houston. I was a punk thinking I was badass, stealing cars and motorbikes. One day I was walking past this bar and this sweet Harley was parked up outside, so I tried to steal it. Turns out it was Billy’s bike—he’s a Sinner but he’s retired now. Well, he took one look at me trying to boost his bike and before I got a chance to run he’d got me by the back of my shirt and he kicked the crap out of me. Then he took me into the bar and bought me a drink. He told me I scratched his bike and that I need to work off the cost of the re-spray. He gave me an address and told me to meet him there the next day. I don’t know why I did it, but the next day I went to the address and it was one of the Sinners’ garages. I worked every day for three months, sweeping up and running errands to cover the cost of the repairs. At the end of the three months, Billy told me that the scratch on his bike had been there for ten years, but the day I’d tried to steal his bike I’d reminded him of himself at eighteen. I was so mad, but then he brought me here and introduced me around and when I was old enough, I asked if I could prospect and the rest is history. The Sinners saved me from my stupid eighteen-year-old self, they gave me a home and a family. I’m a Doomsday Sinner to my very soul. I couldn’t turn my back on them if I tried.”
I smile warmly at Daisy. “You were lucky it was Billy’s bike you tried to steal that day.”
He laughs. “Yeah it could have been a very different story.”
“What’s your real name? Oh and I’m dying to know where Daisy came from,” I ask with a raise of my eyebrows.
He licks his lips and smiles. “I don’t use my real name and haven’t in fucking years, so don’t get thinking you can use it once I tell you, okay?”
I nod earnestly.
“Oh God, right. My real name is Marion,” Daisy says, a pink blush covering his cheeks.
“Marion,” I say swallowing a giggle.
“Yep, sure helped me get into a shit ton of fights when I was a kid. I started going by Rin when I was eleven and got sick of punching people for making fun of me. When I started to prospect for the club, the guys didn’t believe that my full name was Rin so they got me really fucking drunk and got me to admit what my real name was. The bastards laughed their fucking asses off—didn’t help that I was in the middle of having my sleeve done and I’d just had all of the color added on the flowers on my arms. Then the fuckers decided that with a name like Marion and a load of flowers tattooed onto my skin I should get the nickname Daisy. Unfortunately, it stuck and I’ve been Daisy ever since. From one stupid name to another,” he says with a smile full of fondness for the memory he just shared.
“You definitely don’t look like a Marion,” I say with a smirk as a giggle bubbles up from my chest and escapes. I slap my hand over my mouth to try to stifle the sound, but Daisy hears it and gasps in mock outrage.
His arms wrap around me and I shriek when he lifts me into the air and then carefully drops me down flat onto the bed. He crawls over me, caging me against the quilt with his arms on either side of my head. His body isn’t touching mine, but my heart starts to pound, and my breath comes in frightened, excited gasps. I look up at him and silently will him to kiss me. He smiles, then he freezes and looks down at my body stretched out beneath him. “Fuck, Angel, you’re like the sweetest temptation. So fucking beautiful and hell, knowing that no-one has ever touched you before, makes me want to beat my chest like a fucking caveman. I don’t want to push my luck or do something that’s gonna make you uncomfortable and I promise I won’t let this go too far but I really want to kiss you like this. You okay with that?”
I nod and his head immediately drops to mine. Our lips meet and we kiss. This kiss is sweet but measured like he’s holding back. This is a kiss you give to a virgin and nothing like the passionate kisses he’s given me before. Frustrated, I push at his chest and he immediately lifts his head and sits up. I push myself up and rest on my elbows. “Daisy, I don’t want you to kiss me like that.”
He looks at me confused. “Like what?”
“Have I ever seemed like I was used to kissing men I only just met?”
He smiles and seems embarrassed. “No, Angel, you didn’t. Why?”
“Is it, err, is it a surprise that I haven’t had sex yet?” I ask him, my eyes unable to make contact with his.
“No, it’s not a surprise. I’ve thought you were innocent from the moment I saw you at the wedding.”
“So why are you treating me differently now I’ve confirmed what you already assumed? I don’t know how many times I’ll get to kiss you, so I want to make them count. Don’t kiss me like you think you should kiss a virgin. Kiss me like time is running out,” I say, my voice laced with desperation.
My words hit home because Daisy scoops me into his arms and kisses me like this is the last kiss either of us will ever have. It’s sweet and powerful; he consumes me but gives me part of himself at the same time. His tongue is in my mouth searching for more and I respond giving him everything I have. Daisy slows the kiss to a torturous pace; his lips explore mine, nipping at the skin on my lower lip then soothing it with his tongue. Small moans of pleasure escape from my throat, as his hands move into my hair and he wraps himself around me, plastered against my chest.
Daisy pulls back, panting. I can feel his heart beating a staccato thump in his chest, his pupils are dilated and an excited twinkle sparkles within his beautiful depths. “Was that better my Angel?”
“Yes,” she sighs breathlessly.
I laugh. “I aim to please.”
Rolling onto my back, I pull her against my side and hold her close. My cock is rock hard, and I need to calm down enough to get it back under control.
She’s a fucking virgin. It’s really not a surprise, but still, hearing it come from her lips makes it real. A fucking virgin. Untouched. Far too good for me to sully, but fuck if I don’t want her. I want to peel that tiny skirt from her and pull down the white cotton panties that I know are underneath. I want to stroke and lick and touch her perfect virgin pussy knowing that I’m the first person to do it.
I’m getting in too deep with her. When she’d asked me to run with her, for a minute I wanted to say yes. I still want to say yes. But I won’t turn my back on the only people I’ve ever called family for a woman, not even a woman like Angel.
My breathing slowly starts to return to normal and I slide my hand up to tangle in Angel’s hair. I turn my head toward her and watch as her fingers absentmindedly play with the fabric of my shirt. “I like you here with me. In my arms
and in my bed. Stay with me, for however long you’re in Archer’s Creek I want you here with me. Promise me you’ll stay with me.”
Her fingers stop moving and she stretches her arm across my stomach and turns closer into my body. “I want that too.”
“Then no matter what, you stay with me. I want you to feel safe, I know what it’s like to be scared and I fucking hate you’ve lived like that,” I say, forcing my body to stay relaxed and not react to the anger that’s starting to swell within me.
“What made you scared?” she whispers.
“I’ve lived in a lot of places, Angel. Not all of them were nice. In an ideal world, the foster care system would be full of caring people, but sometimes it’s just a place for sick and twisted fuckers to hide in plain sight.”
Neither of us speaks. Sometimes there’s nothing to say and talking about it doesn’t always make it better. The TV murmurs in the background, but I don’t watch it. Instead I drop my chin on top of Angel’s head and close my eyes. The feeling of her chest rising and falling as she silently breathes lulls me to sleep and I dream of a beautiful Angel that changes everything.
A quiet knock at the door wakes me. Lifting my head I take in the sleeping figure of Angel. She’s lying on top of me. Her head is in the middle of my chest and her legs are entangled between mine. She’s so tiny she fits perfectly, and my arms are wrapped around her holding her close to me.
There’s another knock at the door, so I carefully move Angel off my chest and onto the quilt beside me. She immediately curls into a ball, her face twisting into a disgruntled scowl. Smiling, I lift myself off the bed and pad over to my door. I open it just wide enough to see who’s on the other side. “Blade, what’s up?” I say rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“There’s news. Prez wants you and Dove in his office.”
“She’s sleeping,” I say turning to look at her still curled up in my bed.
“You wear her out?” Blade says with a laugh.