Page 55 of Lust
She longed to go back to that simple time. To have nothing between them but clear, undiluted love. Because that’s what it was back then, she realized. Love. Only, she’d been too young to comprehend.
She sat up.
He wasn’t some second choice; he was the first. Always had been.
Putting the baseball down, Liza took up her cell and tried calling Joe.
No answer.
But a text came through. Family meeting in her parents’ apartment for breakfast. That could only mean one thing. Daisy was up and talking.
“Fuck it,” she growled and got out of bed.
There were more pressing things to worry about than Joe’s rejection. The sister who’d spent her life working for the enemy was downstairs.
Liza showered, dressed, and gathered spare clothing for Daisy. She ventured down to her parents’ floor. Mary sat with Daisy on a sectional in the living area. They weren’t alone. Tony, Griffin, and Parker also sat pouring over some of Evan’s sketches from his psychic dreams. The artist himself was conspicuously absent.
She put her keys on the bench in the kitchen, smiled at her father cooking bacon and eggs, and then joined the rest of her family. Tony, Griffin, and Parker were on one side of the couch. Mary and Daisy on the other. She handed Daisy the small pile of clothes.
“I thought you’d want something to wear other than sweats.”
Daisy’s violet gaze sparked with an emotion that gave Liza a glimpse into her old self. Then it was gone. Daisy took the pile of clothes with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she hugged the clothes in her lap as though they were a blanket that would protect her from the ghosts of her past, sitting and staring at her from across the couch.
“Did Evan have another dream?” Liza asked, eyeing the rough charcoal sketches on the table. She’d seen the one with Daisy in it earlier, but they not shown Daisy.
Tony shook his head grimly, but his gaze skated to his brothers. Liza knew that look. No amount of acting classes could get rid of that look on Tony’s face. He had made that face as a toddler who stole Liza’s last Oreo from the dessert plate. And usually, it was when another brother had told him to do it. Guilty and colluding.
Liza scanned the rest of her brothers. Griffin sat stiffer than usual in his corporate attire. Parker looked especially pompous with his casual arm rested across the length of the couch and eyes zeroed in on Daisy like she was about to rob the bank.
Liza had to shut that down quick-smart. She wasn’t ready to attack Daisy just yet.
“Hey Parks,” she called and ditched a pillow at his lustrous hair. “The nineties called. They want their shampoo commercial back.”
He sneered at her in a way only a brother could. But she achieved her purpose. He may be kingpin in the field, but he wasn’t at home. They were all equal.
Daisy had offered to tell them anything they wanted to know about the Syndicate. And here she was, sitting in borrowed sweats and shoeless. Mary was by her side, stoic and ominous in her dark yoga attire. The woman had a spine straighter than an arrow, and yet, today, she managed to look smaller and more fragile than any of them. It was the first time Liza had ever imagined her adoptive mother as anything other than invincible. But Mary was getting older, as they all were. Mary’s latter years had been full of gut-wrenching nerves. The children she’d raised to be loving yet implacable warriors for good had come undone, stitched themselves back together, and come undone again.
And here was her greatest regret, Daisy. The obvious hope in Mary’s eyes kept flicking to her lost daughter, who tucked her long skinny legs beneath her bottom and kept to herself.
“Bit early to discuss the end of the world, isn’t it?” Liza asked.
Parker slid unamused eyes to her but said nothing.
Griffin, already dressed and slick in his corporate attire, indicated the sketches. “Daisy’s been telling us what she knows about the Syndicate.”
“Oh?” Liza took a seat next to Daisy and tried not to look too invested, but this was the moment they’d all been waiting for. “Shouldn’t we wait for Wyatt and the others?”
Tony snorted. “As if Wyatt’ll leave the seventh floor before Misha gives birth.”
“That’s not true,” Griffin said. “He’s cooking family dinner at the end of the week.”
“I think Daisy was about to explain the sketches Evan’s made,” Parker interrupted, in no uncertain terms, effectively silencing everyone. “Please continue, Daisy, and tell us what you know.”
Daisy’s violet eyes shimmered beneath a frown. “The truth is, not as much as you’d like to hear. I’ve been having blackouts.”
Mary took Daisy’s hand and met Liza’s stare. “Julius has no further use for her, and since she’s not triggered her powers, a blackout isn’t going to get her far in terms of world devastation. Not when you are all powered. Apparently, they haven’t completely dismissed the possibility of turning you all rogue. Daisy believes her life is in danger.”
Liza wasn’t the only one unconvinced at this excuse, but Mary swallowed it. They had to tread carefully or they’d break her heart. Uncovering Daisy’s true reason for being here was like surgery. They needed the right tools and the right surgeon.
