She jumps again. “Don’t touch me!”
I stare at her back, aghast.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s not your… not your…” She’s taking in huge gulps of air, the sound so tortured I’m getting scared.
I turn in a panic, thinking of finding Natalie, of calling for help, but Daisy reaches out a hand, stopping inches before she makes contact. “Please. Just give me a minute.”
“Okay.”
Turning her back to me again, she sinks to her knees, leaning heavily on the wall. She takes deep breaths, which slowly sound less and less tortured until I could almost describe them as meditative. After what feels like an eternity, she stands and faces me. Well, her body faces me. Her face is trained directly on the ground. I’m desperate to see her eyes, to get some sense of what is going on in her mind right now.
“I’m very sorry,” she says, raspy and low. “That was not your fault.”
“What happened?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Daisy—”
“No, I mean I can’t. Not right now. Not without it happening again. Please, don’t ask me right now, Daltrey.”
I’m torn. I’m desperate to know what’s wrong, yet I want to protect her—even from my own questions. I risk just one. “Was that a panic attack?”
She nods, her head still down.
Since when does she get panic attacks? Is this what nearly happened in the van a few days ago? How could I not know about this?
“Will you take me back to the hotel, please?” she asks, her voice sad. “I’m sorry to ruin such a nice evening.”
“You didn’t ruin anything, Daisy.”
Her eyes flick up briefly, to the champagne on the table and the view beyond it, and I’m pretty sure I see tears on her cheek. But she just shakes her head again, either at herself or at me, and turns toward the elevator.
We ride home in silence. I have no idea what to say to her. I want to comfort her, hold her, but I’m afraid anything I do will set her off again. And I couldn’t stand that. I already feel like the worst kind of shit for bringing on that reaction once. I don’t think I could handle breaking her again, not like that.
When we’re close to the hotel, I lean forward to ask Benny to drop us off at the front, thinking Daisy should get inside quickly, but she interrupts me with a strangled cry. “No!”
“What—”
“The photographers. The fans. They can’t… I can’t. Not right now.”
Benny meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, and I can tell he’s concerned. I nod, and he turns for the parking garage entrance. Daisy has her seatbelt unbuckled before Benny even turns off the car.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, to him or me or both of us, before pushing open her door and running toward the stairs.
“Daisy!” I call after her.
“Is she okay?” Benny asks as I fumble with my seatbelt.
“I have no clue,” I mutter, finally freeing myself so I can follow her. But I’m too late. She’s not in the stairwell, and she’s not in lobby. She’s gone, leaving me to wonder, yet again, how in the hell I messed everything up so badly.
I walk, dejected, to the elevators. The day was perfect, one of the best I’ve ever had in my life. My belief in Daisy and me, in the kind of relationship we could have, was solidified today. We would be so beautiful together, I knew it. And I thought she knew it too. I felt that in her kiss. So why in the hell did she run away from me again?
The elevator doors open, and Lennon steps out. He looks surprised, then his expression quickly turns to concern. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, having no idea how to even begin answering that question.
“Where’s Daisy?”
“I’m assuming she’s in her room.”
“Let’s get a drink.”
I know he can tell something’s wrong. Lennon’s always been good at that kind of thing, and I’m shitty at hiding my feelings. I follow him to the hotel bar, ignoring the stares of the patrons who recognize us, their eyes following us all the way to the bar. Lennon orders two shots of whiskey, and I’m relieved when the bartender doesn’t ask for his ID—I’m sure we’re getting the rock star treatment. Lennon is of age, but I’m not. Drinks in hand, we find a table in a quiet corner.
“What happened?” he asks, sliding one of the shots over to me. “I thought the two of you were supposed to be spending the day together.”
“We were. And it was… it was great. But then I did something that freaked her out, and she took off.”
“What’d you do?”
I sigh, not really wanting this to be public knowledge.
“Did you tell her how you feel?”
I look into my older brother’s face.
He smiles a little. “I know, Daltrey. It’s pretty obvious.”
I grab my shot glass and down the liquor in one gulp. “Yeah, I told her. She looked a little freaked, but then she kissed me, so I thought…” I feel a horrible ache in my chest, thinking of that moment when she had kissed me back, when I thought maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way I did. That hope is gone, leaving behind an emptiness that physically hurts.
“So she kissed you then freaked out?”
“Pretty much.”
“Something’s going on with her, Daltrey,” Lennon says. “I’m sure of it. She’s different than she used to be. I could tell the minute I saw her. Besides, her disappearing last year is not like her.”
“All she would tell me is that she had a hard time with kids at school and ended up in therapy. But tonight… she had a panic attack, Len. Just ’cause we kissed. It was… it scared the hell out of me.”
“There’s got to be more to it,” he says, idly running a finger along the rim of his glass.
“Well, if there’s more to it, she’s not talking.”
He looks up at me, his gaze sharp. “And you’re just going to be okay with that?”
“Of course I’m not, but I can’t force her to talk if she doesn’t want to.”
“No, you can’t force her. But you can sure as hell try.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Daltrey, after she stopped returning your calls last year, what’d you do about it?”
I wish I hadn’t drunk my whiskey so fast. “I didn’t do jack about it.”
“And haven’t you felt like shit about that ever since?” he asks. “Haven’t you spent the last year wondering what you could have differently?”
“Yeah, Lennon, I have. Thanks for bringing that up.”
“I’m just saying, little brother, that it looks to me like you’re repeating history right now. Something freaked her out, she took off, and you let her go. That’s what it really comes down to, you know? You letting her go.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I’m getting pissed now. Is it too much to ask that he just be supportive? Couldn’t he just get me drunk and be done with it?
“Hey, look at me. This is important,” he says, his voice low and serious. “You’re supposed to fight for her, Daltrey.”
He’s right, totally, completely right. How many times over the past year have I wished I could do things differently, go back and convince her to give me another chance? Didn’t I promise myself I would never again let her go without a fight?
“I have to go,” I say, standing. “I have to go talk to her.”
He nods once. “Good luck, man.”
The elevator takes forever, and repeatedly pressing the button does nothing to hurry it. When the doors open, what seems like a dozen people file out, every one shuffling at a painfully slow pace. It’s all I can do to not scream at them to hurry the hell up.
I know it only takes a minute or so for the elevator to take me to Daisy’s floor, but it’s still an eternity. When the doors finally slide open, I’m facing Paige.
I hold back a groan. “Hey, Paige.” I move to go around her, but she takes my sleeve.
“I think Daisy needs you.”
> My stomach sinks. “Is she okay?”
“She’s packing.”
“No,” I whisper. “She can’t go.”
“Did something happen today? Because she won’t talk to me. She’s just… crying. I left to see if I could find you.”
“Do you think she’ll let me in?” I ask, panicking.
“Here.” Paige slips her key into my hand. “Just in case.”
I’m standing in front of Daisy’s door when I even realize I didn’t thank Paige. Oh, well. I knock quickly. No response. I knock again. “Daisy? Let me in, please.”
She still doesn’t answer.
“Oh, fuck it.” I slide Paige’s key into the slot and open the door.
Daisy gapes at me. “How’d you get in here?”
“Paige gave me a key. She’s worried about you. What are you doing?”
She goes back to shoving things haphazardly into her bag. “I need to go, Daltrey. This was all a big mistake.”
“How can you say that? Daisy, please don’t do this.”
She pauses, and her hands are shaking. “I have to. I’m so embarrassed. I’m obviously not strong enough to be here. I’m sorry.”
“Stop it. Just stop. You have nothing to be sorry or embarrassed about.”
Her face crumples. “Of course I do! The one thing I always dreamt of finally happens, and what do I do? I freak the fuck out.” She raises her hands to her hair, her face so tortured I can barely register the fact that she just described our kiss as something she dreamed of. “Why can’t I just be normal?”
I step forward and grab her hands. “Stop. Please just tell me what’s going on. I want to help you.”
She shakes her head, more tears running down her face. “You can’t. If I tell you, you’ll hate me.”
I smile sadly. “Not possible.”
“It is, Daltrey. You’ll never look at me the same way. And I don’t think I can stand that.”
“So you’d rather leave? You’d rather I never looked at you instead?”
Her body seems to sink in on itself, as if she’s crumbling. I pull her into my arms, rubbing her back and whispering into her hair.
“Daisy, I love you. I’ve always loved you. I need you, please. I don’t think I can handle it if you run from me.”
Her entire body shakes with her sobs. “I need you, too. I’m so scared, Daltrey.”
“You don’t need to be scared. Whatever it is, I’ll help you.”
She pulls back, wiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to—”
“Stop apologizing. Seriously. Let’s go to my room. I can make you some tea.”
She lets me take her hand and lead her into the hallway. I’m grateful that we don’t run into anyone else. Safely in my suite, I push her down into the couch and go to the wet bar to try to figure out how the fancy individual-serving coffee/tea maker works.
Once I’ve brewed her a cup of questionable-strength tea, I join her on the sofa. She seems a lot calmer, her breathing returned to normal and her tears mostly stopped.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, Daisy, but I need you to know that you can trust me. And I think it would help if you just tell me what’s going on.”
She releases her breath in a rush and holds out her cup. “Will you hold this?”
I take her tea, a little puzzled. She pushes up both her sleeves, past her elbows. She goes for the clasp of her right bracelet then pauses, her fingers trembling.
“What?” I ask, confused.
She shakes her head, takes off the cuff then removes the left one. I can tell she’s holding her breath as she holds out her hands, palms up.
My first thought is that she’s lost more weight than I realized. Her wrists look tiny, fragile, and her pale skin is practically translucent. Then I see the scars.
My breath leaves me, and my heart stops beating. “What is that?” My voice sounds like a stranger’s, high pitched, panicked. I can’t wrap my brain around those scars, around the meaning of those scars. Daisy, my beautiful sunshine girl, did that to herself?
She’s crying again, but there are no sobs this time. Silent tears stream steadily and unchecked down her cheeks.
“Why?” I whisper, the pain of what I’m seeing almost strangling me.
“After you left, Justin D’Angelo asked me out.” Somehow, even through the tears, she keeps her voice steady and flat. “I figured why not, you know? He seemed nice, and I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t lonely.” She glances up then averts her eyes again.
It’s strange than even in the horror of this moment, I can feel jealousy stabbing through me like a hot blade, at the idea of her with another guy.
“We hooked up a few times. He took pictures of me one time, when we were together. I thought he was just messing around. I made him delete them, and he said he did but…”
“Oh, God.”
“He dumped me not long after. I think it was a game for him, you know? See if he could get hotshot Daltrey Ransome’s girl. The pictures started going around the school less than a week later.”
I stand abruptly, spilling hot tea onto my hands. I forgot I was holding her mug. The scalding barely registers. I don’t know what I’m going to do exactly, but I have to do something. Preferably get on a plane and go kill that son of a bitch.
“Dalt, sit down. Please.”
Only the sound of her voice, pleading and needy, could get through to me in this minute. I release a long breath and sit, setting the mug on the coffee table. “Sorry.”
She stares down at the couch. “It was… pretty bad. There were some girls who were thrilled to be able to take me down a few notches. They put the pictures all over the Internet.” She swallows hard, closing her eyes for a moment. “Then they started… they called me a lot, sometimes in the middle of the night. They’d call me names and threaten me. If I didn’t answer my cell, they’d call the house. I didn’t want my dad to hear—”
“So you answered.”
She nods. “I started getting freaked out about things. Everyone was always talking about me and looking at me. Pointing. And they’d all seen… they all knew exactly what I look like. I… I had panic attacks when people would look at me. They thought that was hilarious. It got really hard to be at school.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” I ask, feeling sick to my stomach. All of this happened to her, and she’d been alone. She shouldn’t have been alone.
“At first I didn’t want you to know because I was embarrassed. And I didn’t want you to worry when everything was going so well for you. I know how important the band’s success is to you. I wasn’t going to be the one to ruin it.”
“Daisy—”
“And then you got so famous, and I started seeing you on TV. There were always crowds around you, always people. I knew I couldn’t be near that. I could barely make it through a day at school.”
“I would have come home. I would have kept you away from it all.”
“I wouldn’t have let you.” She shakes her head. “Eventually, it got back to my dad. You remember Mrs. Goodwin, the math teacher? She saw someone passing one of the pictures and realized what was going on. That was the worst part. Mrs. Goodwin went online, her and the guidance counselor, and they found everything.” A shudder goes through her body. “Once the school found out, I figured it would get better. But there was no way for the school to police how those kids talked to me. How they looked at me. And the school said they had no authority to do anything about the kids’ online behavior.”
“What the fuck?” I know my voice is too loud, know I need to calm down, but I’m so beyond angry at everyone who allowed this to happen.
She goes on as if I didn’t interrupt. “My dad got a lawyer, and there were court orders for the pictures not to be distributed. Then he made me go to therapy. When we first met the doctor, she wanted Dad to be there and she… she asked a bunch of questions about our family.” Her voice is shaking again, and I wonder what other terrible thing she
could possibly have to tell me. “And I found out… I found out my mom…”
I realize what she’s going to say the moment before the words leave her mouth, and I feel a crashing wave of despair wash over me.
“She killed herself, Daltrey. That’s how she died. He lied to me all these years. She didn’t have an accident, and she wasn’t who he told me she was. She was too weak and broken to stick around for her kid.” Daisy lets out a little moan. “She didn’t love me enough. And she wasn’t strong enough.”
I can’t listen to her voice sounding so broken and anguished for a second longer. I reach for her. She falls into my arms, and I pull her onto my lap.
“All I could think was that she was weak, and so was I. I had her blood in my veins. I could hardly make it through the day. I didn’t trust anyone anymore. Everything in my life was cruel and heartless. What if it was always that way? What if there was no hope?” Her tears keep falling. “And all I could think was that if she couldn’t get through it, neither could I. She had a husband and a baby, and she couldn’t deal. I had nothing.”
“You had me.” I’m crying now, too, crying for the girl I love and all she’s lost. And I’m crying some for myself because I don’t know if I’ll ever be enough to make her forget. “I thought about you every single day, wished for you and prayed for you. All I wanted was you, no matter where we went or what we did. You had me.”
“I needed you, Daltrey. I needed you so bad.”
“You have me.” I kiss her again, her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids. “You’ll never lose me. You have me, Daisy, and you won’t ever be alone again.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Daisy
What in the hell were we waiting for?
That’s the only cognizant thought I can come up with as my lips find Daltrey’s again. How much time have we wasted when we could have been doing this?
I told him everything, showed him the scarred, broken part of me, and he didn’t run or push me away. Instead, he held me and cried with me until I was sure I would break with the pain of it. And after all of that, he still wants me.
I can feel it in the way he kisses me so desperately, as if he can’t get enough. He trails his fingers across my face and holds me tightly to him until I’m sure I won’t be able to breathe. Daltrey wants me. He loves me.
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