Page 16 of Vandal Unbound

“Can Vandal take a shower?” Elsie asks.

“Oh my gosh, Elsie,” Daisy says before turning to me. “I’m sorry about that.”

I huff a laugh. “You’re right about the caffeine. And Elsie’s right about me needing a shower. It’s been a long…well…” He gestures to the scars on his face and head.

“I can only imagine,” Daisy says, handing me the coffee. “There you go. Tell me if you need more cream.”

After seeing the state of her fridge, I wouldn’t ask for more cream even if my life depended on it. I take a sip of it, and it tastes like gold. “It’s perfect.”

Daisy sits on the sofa and curls her legs beneath her. “So, Elsie Marie, how did you end up calling Vandal?”

She points to a piece of paper attached with a magnet. “I called the number on the fridge.”

“You called Annie?”

“I think so.”

Daisy reaches for her phone, and I’m guessing she looks at recent calls. Then she smiles at Elsie. “You were so close, sweetheart. You dialed a six instead of an eight.” She turns to me and recites a number. “That you?” she asks.

I nod. “It is.”

“Sorry it disturbed your night, and we’re very grateful.” A small wrinkle appears on the bridge of Daisy’s nose. “Do we…owe you anything?”

I shake my head. “Not at all. They been bothering you a while?”

“Every day,” Elsie says.

“We’ve only been here less than a week, but it’s been like this non-stop. Thought it would be a bit like fresh meat in the cellblock and that he’d give up. But he’s…” She gestures like I should know what she means but doesn’t want to say it in front of Elsie.

“Gotcha. New in town?”

Daisy nods. “Yeah.”

She doesn’t expand. Doesn’t tell me where she moved from or why she moved here. And I suppose it’s none of my business. Because once I walk out of here tonight, I’m gonna go back to the clubhouse and sleep like a baby. I got on my bike. I fought.

So, everything is going to be fine, right?

I’m fixed.

At least, that’s what I try to convince myself while I sit in this soft little haven with Daisy and Elsie.

“I have a focal lens cataract. Can you see it?” Elsie launches herself across my lap and uses three fingers to pull her lower eyelid down while she attempts to look up.

“It’s the little white dot in the middle of her pupil,” Daisy adds.

“Oh, yeah, I see it,” I say once I’ve homed in on what they’re talking about and covered the eye that blurs what I’m seeing.

“Momma says it makes me special.” Elsie looks to Daisy. “What does it make me have trouble with?”

Daisy looks to me. “It can make things a little blurry at times, and she has problem with depth perception because of it.”

Elsie chuckles. “I walk into doorframes sometimes.”

“Ouch.”

She reaches out her fingers toward my eye, and I flinch automatically. She snatches her hand away. “What did you do?”

I skip the details because a five-year-old doesn’t need to know I’m fallible. “I had to have my skull rebuilt here. Like with metal plate and bits of bone.”