Page 73 of Vandal Unbound
He puts his hands on my biceps, steps back a fraction, and stares into my eyes. I’ve got an inch or two on King, but those ice-blue eyes unnerve me every time. Makes me think of Storm from the X-men when she’s calling the weather in.
“And you know I’ve still got my eye on you for Florida VP one day, right?”
I huff at that. “I’ll be wheeling Knox around in a wheelchair when I’m ninety and he’s a hundred.” I approximate the age gap for effect, but King laughs. “Then it’ll be North’s turn.”
King shrugs. “Might start a new chapter up before then.” He tips his chin in the direction of Havoc. “Could send the two of you as a pair. Ready-made Prez and VP.”
I like the idea of us doing that. I hate the idea of leaving Florida for us to do it. “That’d be quite the sight.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me.”
I shake my head. “Can barely ride my bike right now. Certainly can’t risk a fight when my face is patched up with bits of plate.”
“You think I invest in people just because they can fight? Any useless fuck can throw a punch. I get shit all the time for being the only president of a true one-percenters motorcycle club to have a woman patched in. I invest in fucking talented people. People who are willing to do the hard stuff. To make difficult decisions. They don’t come harder than what you’re going through right now, but you’re doing the work.”
“You’re just saying that.” I don’t know why that’s my response to everything he just said.
King smiles. “Never once said anything I don’t mean. Except perhaps when I kidnapped my now-wife and pretended I hated her so she wouldn’t know that she’d pole-axed me.”
“Heard you had a little girl.”
At that, King pulls his phone out of his cut and opens the lock screen. The wallpaper is a striking woman with dark hair; she’s holding a baby with hair almost as black as her father’s. “Her name’s Imogen. And that’s my wife, Rae.”
“You got a beautiful family.”
He touches his finger to the screen, and his whole face changes. “Yeah. One in a million. It’s amazing how the right woman can change you in ways you never expected.”
I think about Daisy and Elsie, wondering how it would feel to have a picture of them on my phone to show other people how fucking lucky I am.
I haven’t contacted her in days. Not because I haven’t missed her and Elsie with a bone-deep ache that hurts almost as much as my skull fractures. But because I knew I’d lose focus on what I was trying to do to be better.
One word from Daisy…if she sounded scared or worried or lonely…and I would have given up on everything else to make it right for her.
But now it’s time. As King drifts away, I tug out my phone and type.
Me:I missed you so much, Daze.
Me:On a scale of one to ten, how much did you miss me?
I don’t ask the important question:Are you ready to fall in love with me?
My phone reminds me it’s one in the morning, so I figure she won’t respond for a few hours. But as I’m about to slide my phone back into my cut, it buzzes in my hand.
Daisy:Ten.
And there’s a little row of kisses.
“Hey, Niro,” I say. “Do you still do tattoos?”
22
DAISY
“Momma,” Elsie squeals. “This is amazing.”
She’s currently sitting next to me on the otherwise empty airboat being driven by Maren, who wrapped her generosity in the pretense that this is a belated birthday present.
Most people just text and say,Sorry I missed it, but Maren’s plan was to take Elsie out on a flat-bottomed boat with an engine loud enough to rearrange my internal organs.
