Chapter 18

Neither of us says a single word as I climb into Daisy's bed and wrap my arms around her. She rolls over and buries her face into my bare chest. My hand runs up and down her spine, and my body instantly begins to relax for the first time in hours. I've been so worked up, overtaken by a mixture of rage and regret.

I'm fucking pissed. At her for lying to me, at the fucking asshole who hurt the innocent little girl she once was. And at the fucking world for allowing these sick cunts to exist in the same universe as this beautiful woman.

More than all of that, I'm fucking pissed I didn't know. How did I not uncover that bit of information when I was looking into her? I've spent the past few hours sifting through everything I have. My intel goes right back to the start of high school. And not a single thing mentions abuse, or a stepfather.

That's not to say I didn't find the asshole. I did. It just took longer than it should have. Her mother never married the fucker, and that's why it took so long for me to find his name. I had to dig through her mother's past, and what a fucking past it was. Daisy hasn't spoken much about the woman, and now I know why. It's the epitome of: if you've got nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all. Truer words have never been spoken. Not when it comes to the woman who birthed my girl.

My arms tighten around Daisy. I breathe in her scent, close my eyes, and will myself to sleep. Tomorrow, I'll begin the task of dealing with the man she referred to as her stepfather. He's locked up in a prison that's only a few hours' drive from here.

My eyes snap open, and I instantly become aware of my surroundings. I'm in Daisy's bedroom. I look down at the mass of blonde hair next to me. She hasn't moved. She's still in the same position she was in when I fell asleep.

Bending my head slightly, I lightly graze my lips against hers. I need to get up. I need to leave. I don't know if I can stay and have the conversation that needs to be had just yet. Actually I do know. I can't. Because I'm still fucking pissed off that she lied to me.

One of the most important things in this world, the one I've been raised in, is loyalty. Trust. There are exactly four men I trust on this godforsaken earth. My brothers. That's it.

Do I trust Daisy? No, but that doesn't mean I didn't want her to trust me.

I want to be the one she confides in. I want to hear all of her hopes, fears, dreams, and nightmares. I want it fucking all. What I don't want is the lies. I don't want the version of her she thinks she needs to be. I want the real fucking Daisy Blake. I just need her to want that as much as I do.

I slide my arm out from underneath her head without waking her. Pick up the shirt I discarded on the floor last night and throw it over my head. As I cover Daisy with the blankets, I'm tempted to lean down and kiss her. I don't. The last thing I need is for her to wake up. The sun is only just beginning to rise. Daisy will be up soon enough. And I need to be gone.

So I turn away and walk out of her apartment. I had to park two blocks down last night. The street was and still is full of cars, all lined up without an open spot in view. Not ideal with the Melbourne winter kicking in. Add in the drizzling rain, and the city is just as fucking miserable as I am at the moment.

By the time I make it to my car, I'm wet, cold, and tired. I jump behind the wheel and check the time. I slept for three hours. I can already tell this is going to be the week from hell. The only good thing that's happened lately is the fact that Gio finally found the fuckers who were hitting up our businesses. The same asshole who targeted Eloise. Seems our own father paid some lowlife wanna-be thugs to go on the attack in the event of his death. The old man knew his time was coming. That he'd eventually die at one of our hands.

If you ask me, Gio ended the fuckers far too quickly. But that's his style, swift and to the point.

I pull into the driveway at the same time Santo is staggering out the front door. I watch as he stumbles over to his Porche. I slide out of my own car and slam the door. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I yell at him.

Santo cranes his head over one shoulder to look at me. "Going out," he says before turning back around as he fumbles to open the driver's side door.

I barge past him, knock him to the ground, and slam the door shut. "Like fuck you are. Look at you." I throw an arm out in his direction and pin him with a glare.

"I need to go and see her," he mumbles while trying to crawl back up to his feet.

"See who?"

"Shelli. I need to go and see her," he repeats.

"Where is she?"

"The park. I need to go to the park."

I glance towards the house. I really wanted to grab a shower, a feed, and crash for a few more hours. None of that is going to happen now. "Get in. I'm driving," I tell him.

"I don't need you to drive. I'm capable of looking after myself," he slurs.

"Get in the fucking car before I change my mind and slash every fucking tire out here," I hiss. I don't wait for his answer before opening the driver's side door and plopping my ass down on the seat as I press the button that has the engine purring to life.

Santo falls in beside me. I wait for him to get his seat belt on before throwing the car into reverse. "Why did he do it?" he asks me.

"Who? Do what?"

"Dad. Why did he kill her?"

"My guess, because he's a selfish bastard and couldn't let any of us have anything good." I sigh. "I honestly have no fucking idea, Santo. Did Shelli tell you anything about why she wanted you to meet her at the cabin that day?"

The night before the wedding that never happened, we took Santo to one of our strip clubs. The guy was on cloud fucking nine, over the moon about the fact he was tying the knot. Then, after we'd parted ways, he got a call from his fiancée asking him to meet her at her family's cabin. That's where he found her corpse, her body beaten so badly her face was unrecognisable.

"No, she just said she had something to tell me. It was important and it had something to do with the baby."

The baby.Shelli was eight weeks pregnant. They'd only just found out. Santo told us about it a few days before she was killed. Not only did he lose his fiancée, the woman who should have been his wife, but he also lost the child he never got the chance to meet.

I pull up to the park and stop the car in the spot closest to the path that leads to Shelli's memorial. The one Gio had erected so that Santo had somewhere more positive to grieve. Somewhere to go that didn't involve a headstone in the middle of a cemetery. I guess it's better to sit and talk to a sculpture than a blank wall, right?

"Honestly, I don't know if we're ever going to get the answers you're looking for, Santo. You need to find a way to accept that."

"I'm never going to be able to accept it. I need to know. It just doesn't add up. I'm driving myself mad, going over the last few months with Shelli, all the times she was late coming home, or the weekends she had to go out of town for work. The changes in her personality. I put it all down to pregnancy hormones after we found out about the baby. But what if something else was going on?"

"Like what?" I ask him.

"I don't know. What if Dad had her doing something? What if he pulled her into the life?" he questions.

"I don't know. It's possible, or like you said, it could have just been the hormones," I tell him.

It's times like this that I wonder how Daisy does her job. I'm definitely beginning to feel more like the family therapist and less like their brother. As much as I want to be here for everyone, help them through whatever shit they're going through, it's fucking tiring. But I don't complain, and I won't. Because no matter what, I know every single one of my brothers would be there to do the same for me.