Page 68 of Bitter Rival

I can feel my eyes rolling. They’re practically besties now.

Whereas I’m keeping her at arm’s length, Caiden engages her in conversation all the fucking time. They’ve even started drinking their morning coffee together.

“Are you sure your wrist is okay?” Caiden asks gruffly.

I pause on the stairs, my hand on the oak banister, and wait for her response.

“It’s fine. Really.”

“I still think we should take you to the ER and get it checked out.”

“No, really. It feels better already. The ice is really helping.”

All I want is a hot shower, but my feet are carrying me to the kitchen like they have a will of their own.

I stop in front of the island, my gaze dipping to Daisy’s right hand wrapped in a dishtowel. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Daisy says. “Don’t even worry about it. It was just…” She rolls her eyes at herself. “I did something stupid.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Caiden says, jumping to her defense. “Have you seen the wall in her bedroom?”

“What does the wall have to do with her hand?”

Daisy sighs. “Like I said, it was stupid, and it was totally my fault. It’s not like the wall attacked me,” she says with a laugh.

“What happened?” I repeat.

“I punched a wall. But you should see the wall.” She lets out a low whistle.

I frown, my hands going to my hips. Whenever something bad happens to her, she tries to make a joke of it. “Daisy,” I say sharply, losing patience.

She sighs. “I take a photo from my window every day and I always leave my windows open to let the fresh air in,” she says. “This morning, I went to take a photo, but I slipped on a puddle, lost my balance and put my hand on the wall for support. But somehow, my hand went right through the wall.”

“Your hand went right through the wall?” I repeat. I don’t know why I’m questioning this when she just told me it did. But these walls are over a hundred years old. It’s not that easy to put your hand through all those layers of plaster.

“See? I told you it was stupid. The whole thing sounds too ridiculous to be true,” she says, laughing at herself.

Caiden and I aren’t laughing though. She has a bruise on her cheekbone and a split lip too, something I only notice when she turns her head. “Did the wall punch you in the face, too?”

She laughs then winces and swipes her tongue over her lip catching the blood. “No, the floor did that when I stumbled over my suitcase. It was a comedy of errors.”

“I think she needs to see a doctor,” Caiden says.

“Let me see your hand,” I say quietly.

Daisy scowls. “Seriously, you guys are making a big deal out of nothing. I’m fine.”

“I’m going up to fix that wall,” Caiden says. “Beck, I need to show you something.” He jerks his chin toward the door.

“Yeah, okay.” I point at Daisy. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

“Can’t wait,” she mutters as I walk out the door and trail Caiden up the stairs and down the hallway to Daisy’s room.

I stop short on the threshold. The wall has a gaping hole in it, and you can see straight through to the stone. “Jesus Christ.”

“She didn’t do all that. Her hand went through right around here,” he says, pointing to a spot in the middle. “But I started ripping it down to see how bad it was. This whole wall needs to be replastered. Luckily, we got the new roof on before the rain started, but this isn’t new. This is from years of water damage.”

He points to the brown stains on the ceiling. “We’re lucky this whole ceiling didn’t fall in on her. I’ve checked the other bedrooms and there’s some minor damage, but this one is by far the worst.”

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