I find her in the kitchen with hardcore and Sissy. They rush upstairs, and I track down Doc Stevens.
Prez comes back downstairs. “Gwynee and Sissy are sitting with Daisy. You need to clean those scratches.”
“I’m fine.”
“Take a beat. Eat something.”
I nod, but the last thing on my mind right now is food. I know Daisy has had a messed-up life, and she’s going through hell, but I can’t help but feel like there’s something I’m missing. I can’t put my finger on the what. She was so different yesterday. It’s like when we came back from the lake a switch flipped and she became someone else. But hell, maybe it’s how she is. I don’t really know her, but fuck me, when I’m with her that’s not how it feels. Maybe I’m losing my damn mind. I step out back and light up a cigarette and get some fresh air to clear my head.
I scroll through my missed texts and calls. I need to check in with my father. We’ve got a new job starting this week. A kitchen remodel. New cabinets. New tile and flooring. All new appliances. Not to mention the three other projects we’re wrapping up.
I shoot back a text to let him know I’ll finish up the roofing job with Hardcore and our crew tomorrow. He’s already pissed that I took Friday off to ride out with the club. I get it, though. He’s set to retire this year, and when he does, he wants to pass the business over to me.
I’ve got a lot riding on me and maybe I’ve bitten off too much with Daisy. I can’t help wanting to protect her. She doesn’t have anyone. The hell she’s survived, I’d be fifty shades of fucked up if I were her.
I finish my cigarette and reply to some emails about some of the materials we need to order for the week before heading back inside to check on Daisy.
My bedroom’s empty and so is the bathroom. “Daisy?” I walk up and down the hallway calling her name, but get no response. Tyrant pokes his head out of his room. “What’s up?”
“I can’t find Daisy.”
“Maybe she’s making a run for it.”
Fuck.
Chapter Ten
I’m not crazy. I could feel him and smell him. I saw him. Hector was here, and he wants to take me back to Mexico. Tears blur my vision. I try to shake away the feeling, but I can’t. “I’m not crazy.”
The doctor from yesterday stares at me with pity. I don’t need his pity. “Did something happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m asking if someone has hurt you since yesterday. Or if something triggered your PTSD.”
I shake my head. There’s no way I’m telling him about Tyrant.
“You can trust me.”
“Nothing happened.” I blow my nose.
“Okay. Did you take the pills I gave you?”
“Not yet.”
“I want to help you, but you’ve got to be honest. When did you last use?”
“I took a pill yesterday.”
“What did you take?”
“I don’t know. Some type of painkiller.”
“Maybe whatever you took is causing hallucinations. I don’t really know if you can't tell me what you took. Why don’t I give you something to make you sleep?”
“I don’t want to sleep.” I pick at the scab on my hand.
“I’m going to get you something to drink. I’ll be back in a few. Just try to stay calm.”
