“Daisy, you see why you have to quit now, right?” Cruz says from behind me, his voice deadly serious.
I turn back, biting my bottom lip to stop the tremble. He looks fiercely determined about this, and I’m not even surprised. I know how it looks. I nearly ended up just like his mother, and I knew this would bring all sorts of shit back up for him. But I’m not her. I blink back at him, not sure what to say without sounding like an unsympathetic bitch, but I’m alive, and I can’t live my life in fear of what might happen. Besides, I need this job, and after how much I made last night, I’m not walking away now.
“You have to agree with me, Asher, the job is too dangerous for her.”
Asher looks to me then to Cruz, and his mouth opens then closes again. He’s stuck in the middle.
I need to defuse this bomb before it goes off. “Please, Cruz, don’t start this again. I’m not letting one awful experience ruin this for me. I promise I will be more careful from now on, get straight in Asher’s car, and I will be fine.” I say the words with more confidence than I feel.
Last night has shaken me up in a way I never thought it could. But I also know that women work at that club day in and out with no trouble at all. Lightning couldn’t possibly strike twice in the same place. The man who did this to me is gone, dead. He can’t hurt me again. I try not to think about the fact that he has a wife and family who will probably never know what happened to him. That thought will haunt me more than anything else. From now on, when I’m working, I don’t ask questions. I treat the men as though they aren’teven human, don’t think of them at all. Just focus on the money. Paige was wrong on this; that will be how I survive. “He’s dead, Cruz, this won’t happen again.” I move across the room toward the bathroom.
“You have to be fucking kidding me.” Cruz moves quickly to stand in my way. “I won’t let you go back to that place. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” His eyes lock with mine, dark and deadly serious.
I shove at him, needing space. I can’t have this argument right now, not when I’m about to burst into tears. “It’s not your choice to make,” I throw over my shoulder as I hurry to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
“I will lock you in the apartment if necessary,” he calls through the door, and I know he’s not kidding.
My bottom lip trembles, and the tears I was trying to hold back spring free, scrolling down my cheeks. I turn the shower on and hop in, while steam fills the air. I’m still in my clothes; pretty sure I will have to throw this dress out, anyway. Or burn it. It’s ruined.
The warm water soaks me all the way through, and I let it wash away my sadness. With a shaky hand, I squirt body wash into my hands and scrub at them, trying to remove the stain. My eyes might be too blurry to see straight, because it’s not budging. Crimson coats them, sinking under my nails and seeping through my skin. My heart races. I keep scrubbing, feeling sicker by the second. My head spins, and I crumple to my knees, the hard, relentless tiles doing nothing to soften my fall.
Tears take over, choking out of my throat as all-out sobs wrack my entire body. I pull my knees up to my chest, still scrubbing at my hands, trying to wash away this awful feeling, guilt mixed with fear. A man died because of me. His family is without their papa.
A knock sounds at the door. “Daisy, are you alright?” comes Cruz’s concerned voice through the door. Should have known he would be lurking there like a creeper.
“Leave me alone, Cruz,” I sob back.
The door bursts open, and he’s in the shower with me in no time, his shirt already off. He drops to his knees and pulls me into his chest, stroking my dripping hair. “You’re okay,” he tells me, his voice soft and caring. Sweet even, after he was just so angry with me.
“I can’t get it off. The blood,” I cry, showing him my hands.
He takes my hands in his, scrubbing over them. “It’s gone, little darlin’, there is no blood left.”
When I glance back down, he’s right, my hands are clean. But I’m not sure I will ever feel clean again. I stabbed a man, and it might not have been my violent outburst in self-defense that killed him, but he died because of me.
He gets to his feet and holds a hand out for me to take. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and out of these wet clothes.”
I should fight him on it, tell him to piss off and that I can take care of myself, but right now, I’m not sure I can. So, I place my hand in his.
He pulls me up to standing. Gently, he peels my wet dress off me. “Turn around, little darlin’, let Cruz take care of you.”
I do as he says, and he unclasps my bra, letting it fall to the tile floor below. He squirts body wash on a washcloth and glides it over my skin gently. Then his hands move into my hair. He washes, massaging gently as he goes. I’m half in a daze and half in disbelief that this man is even capable of this kind of careful caring for me. But it’s like when it comes to me, he is a totally different person from who he is for everyone else.
When he’s done, he shuts off the water and wraps me in a fluffy towel, pulling me into his body with his arms wrapped around me tightly. “I will never let anything bad happen to you again.”
I step back, staring up at him. “You can’t make promises like that, Cruz.”
“I can do anything I want.”
I sigh heavily. “Life happens. Sometimes bad things happen as well. You can’t be with me all the time, and even if you are, like Ash was last night, you can’t control what others might do.”
He doesn’t respond to that comment, he just keeps staring deep into my eyes. Then he drops his lips to mine and kisses me softly. “I will never let anything bad happen to you again,” he repeats himself. And I know I’m over my head with him. He won’t listen to me, and I understand what Asher was saying; he’s like a dog with a bone.
Silence hangs heavy in the air between us. I don’t know what else to say to make him see this from my perspective, because no matter how bad last night was, I’m not backing down.
He gives me another quick peck and then pulls back. “Now I think it might be time for breakfast. Will we have cereal or something more exciting today?” he asks, his voice all cheery as if he’s already moved on.
I stare back at him. “We can have whatever you feel like,” I mutter back, his fast change of tune so jarring I’m not sure what else to say. But something tells me I haven’t heard the end of this. Cruz has decided I’m his to protect, and he’s determined to make sure I am, no matter what I want.
