49. Wots… Uh the Deal

49

WOTS… UH THE DEAL

DAISY

The front door bursts open as my dad and Uncle Stef hurry inside the living room. "What the fuck happened?" Dad demands.

"Dubhie," Mom says as she gets off the couch, meeting him halfway. "She's fine. Calm down first, then we'll talk."

I stand up and widen my eyes when I notice Dad's bloody hands, along with the guilty look on his face. "Dad?" I choke out. "What did you do?"

He's unable to meet my eyes, and I know. I fucking know .

Reaching inside the pocket of his slacks, he takes out a picture. One I recognize all too well. He holds it up in front of my face and I widen my eyes. "Where is he?" I cry out, clutching my chest. "What did you do to him?!"

He keeps his mouth shut defiantly, and that's when Mom steps in. She has rollers in her hair, with a chiffon scarf wrapped around them. She wears a negligee in the same pink color, and the puffy sleeves ride up as she grabs his arm, digging her freshly red-painted nails into his skin. "Dubhie. Do not tell me you have done something to her professor."

Tears leak out of my eyes from the sheer terror that I feel. "Where is he?" I demand again. When he doesn't answer, I focus on my uncle Stef, narrowing my eyes. "You know, don't you? Where is he?"

"Princess." He holds up his hands. "Your father knows what's best for you. This man―"

I cut him off, pointing my finger at him. "No! I don't want to hear that shit ! Where the fuck is he?!"

"He took advantage of you, mo luaidh ," Dad finally speaks in a monotone voice. "Let him rot."

Mom lets him go in shock and I step backward, looking up at him in disbelief. "No…" I gasp, then scream, "Dad, I love him!"

"No, you don't. You just think you do because he manipulated you, sweetheart."

"Don't you tell me about love!" I shoot back, nearly vibrating with emotions. "I know what I feel. I know that we belong together. Get off your fucking high horse, Dad. I found all your letters to Mom in the attic. You don't get to tell me what I feel or shame me for falling in love with an unconventional man. Because if we're doing that, I would like to remind you that you were Mom's goddamn stalker before she fell for you."

He tries to speak, but I shush him by holding my hand up beside my face. "If you took your head out of your ass, you'd see that Lester is actually a lot like you. He protects me. He takes care of me. He has all the qualities I always admired about you, how I've always seen you be with Mom. But no, you have to completely lose your mind before you listen !" I swallow, smoothing a hand over my face. "Is he dead? Did you kill him?"

"Not yet."

"Bloody hell, Dubh," Mom snaps, taking his face inside her clutches. "Look at me. Fucking look at me. What are you doing? Do you want to lose our daughter? Because if you keep this up, you will. She will hate you, and I can't even blame her for it."

"I'm doing whatever it takes to protect our daughter. That's a vow I made when we adopted her, Lucille. I need to keep her safe."

I've had enough.

"The only thing I need to be kept safe from is my insane father," I spit out as my eye twitches. I have so much anger shooting through me right now that I don't even know what to do with it. I'm crying and spewing words at him so foul that his entire face pales like a corpse.

"I wish you had never adopted me!" I scream, turning around and grabbing a vase from the coffee table beside us, throwing it against the wall. It breaks into pieces with a loud crash, and it's a good thing Mom let the dogs out in the garden, otherwise I would've scared them. "They should have never let you out of the fucking nuthouse! You fucking wack-job!"

I'm shattering his heart with those words. But I don't care. He has shattered mine, too.

Bursting out the door, I anxiously walk over the sidewalk while I decide what to do. I don't know where Lester is, but I at least know he isn't dead yet.

After I've smoked a cigarette, Mom comes to find me and holds her car keys up. "I know where he is. Let's go."

A sob bursts free from my mouth, eternally grateful that she's my mother. She seems to be the only sane person in our family sometimes. "Thank you, Mom."

When we make it to one of the properties that the mob uses for its basement, I slam the car door behind me as Mom and I hurry to the house. Dad gave Mom the key before she left and she forced him to stay back at the house. I know he must have protested, but he always does whatever she asks of him in the end.

"It should be down here," Mom says as we find the stairs and go down. She flicks a light switch as soon as we open the door downstairs and my eyes clash with Lester's bloody face.

"Oh, fuck! Jesus Christ," I squeak before I run toward him. Taking his face in my hands, I assess the damage. His swollen eyes widen when he sees me and he takes a breath of relief. There's blood all over his face and I barely recognize him because every inch seems either black and blue―or red.

"You're okay." He sighs, nodding his head as if to convince himself. "You're okay. You're okay…"

"Yes. But you aren't. Fuck, Lester. I'm so sorry. My dad, he―"

Noting his hands, I see that he was about to manage to get out of his restraints, the rope around one of his wrists frayed. The altercation with my dad happened fairly quick, so it must have been less than an hour since Dad left him here alone.

"What happened to you?" he demands as I grab a knife out of my pocket and cut him free. He stands up immediately, taking my face in his palms. "Talk to me."

I take his hand in mine, then move it away from his face as I inspect it. " Mhac na galla . He tried to cut off your fucking finger?"

"I don't even feel it," he says. "Just tell me what happened, please. I've been losing my goddamn mind with worry."

"It was the copycat," I whisper, because I know Mom is somewhere behind us. "I'll tell you later, alright? I just need you right now. Let me take care of you."

Looking over my shoulder, I lock eyes with my mom. She nods, taking a few steps forward before she sticks out her hand for Lester to take. "I'm Lucille, Daisy's mother. I wish we could've met under better circumstances."

He accepts and shakes her hand. "Me too. It's nice to meet you anyway. I'm a big fan of your work." He pauses, taking a deep breath. "I'm Lester Gilbert."

She tilts her chin up with sass. "I know who you are. We'll talk about that later."

Despite the way my father has absolutely punched the shit out of Lester's face and nearly killed him, he walks along with us to the car as if nothing even happened to him.

Lester and I hold each other in the backseat as Mom drives to Lester's home. Once we're all inside the house, she makes him sit down on the toilet seat upstairs as she treats his wounds. She's a pro at this stuff because she has to treat my father occasionally.

"I'm going to need both of you to talk," she says when she has cleaned his wounds with alcohol, sticking a needle through his skin. "I've covered for you with your father―" She looks at me with a serious expression. "But I understand why he reacted the way he did. I would first like to know what happened at the school. Who shot at you?"

Lester sits up straighter, worry in his dark eyes. I don't like lying to my mother, but I know I have to in order to protect Lester. She can't know about the copycat.

"I haven't been staying at my dorms," I admit with a sigh. "I've been here. When Lester still wasn't home around 8 PM, I went to the school to look for him. It was there that I found the body of one of my classmates, Jace."

"Christ," Lester grunts out. "Jace is dead?"

Mom halts her hand, leaving the needle pierced through the skin above his eyebrow as she looks at me. "Your classmate was murdered?"

I swallow. "Yes. He was hanging from the banisters in the main hall by a rope. When I ran over to him to help―I don't know why, since he was already dead―someone started shooting at me. I managed to get away when the police came and drove straight home."

It's practically the truth―the only thing I've left out is the reason the killer wanted me dead.

Mom takes me in her arms, tightly hugging me as I meet eyes with Lester from over her shoulder. Unease and worry are vivid all over his bruised face, but he swallows it down.

Asking me some more questions, which I answer as best as I can, Mom finishes stitching up Lester's face, along with his finger that my father nearly cut off.

We go downstairs and I put on the kettle, making us all some tea. We sip it in silence in the conversation pit before my mom demands to know more about the relationship between Lester and me.

"I'm in love with him," I admit, looking at the teacup in my lap. "Remember when I asked you if you thought I'd ever find a love like you and dad? I have, Mom. Call me young and na?ve, but I know what I feel. I know that it's real."

"I'd never call you that, honey." She reaches for my arm and squeezes. "You're a grownup and I trust you." She focuses on Lester then, meeting his eyes on the other side of the sofa. "But I'm not big on trusting men. Frankly, there are only three men in my life that I trust. You're going to have to prove yourself to me, Professor Gilbert. And if I ever find out that my husband was right―that you did use my daughter or hurt her, I'll kill you myself."

"Fuck me sideways," I curse, putting my cup down on the table and rubbing my eyes. "Jesus, Mom."

I'm about to stand up from discomfort when Lester says, "I plan on it, Mrs. Burton. I'll do my best to show you and your husband that I'm worthy of your daughter."

"It can't be Rosemary." Lester shakes his head as we lie down in bed together. My mom left an hour ago and I'm currently telling Lester everything that happened tonight. "I saw her die. I saw it with my own eyes."

"She said that I took you from her." I look up at his swollen face, lying on his chest. "And that she spent years trying to find you."

"None of this makes sense." He looks at the ceiling, his eyes far away.

"What did she look like? In the time you spent together? Did she have blonde hair?"

He nods. "Yes. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin."

"It has to be her, Lester. She told me that she knew who you are and what you did for her. That can only mean one thing, right? You killed all those men that raped her."

"But how…" he trails off.

"I don't know. All I do know is that she wants to be with you. And for that to happen, she needs to get me out of the way. That's the reason she tried to kill me." I groan. "I swear to fuck, of all the possibilities I cooked up in my head for the copycat's identity, I never expected this."

He wraps his arms tighter around me and we fuse into each other like melted metal.