Page 47 of Daisy
Gunner's cheeks turn pink. "Housekeeping cart," he mumbles.
"You stole them?"
"Borrowed," August corrects with a small grin, settling against the van wall but keeping his distance. "They had plenty."
I stare at the pillows, something tight in my chest. He stole pillows. For me. Because he thought I might be uncomfortable.
"You didn't have to do that," I whisper.
Gunner's green eyes meet mine briefly before he looks away. "You needed to be comfortable."
The simple statement makes something flutter in my chest, but I'm too scared to examine what that might mean. Behind me, I hear Gunner close the van door and settle into the driver's seat, ready to take us wherever we need to go.
"Where are we going?" I ask, keeping my eyes down.
"Smaller town," Gunner calls from the driver's seat, his voice carefully gentle. "Place called Millbridge. Should be safe for a few days."
I nod, not trusting myself to say more. Safe. Nothing has felt safe in so long that I'm not sure I'd recognize it anymore.
The silence stretches, broken only by the rumble of the engine and the soft sound of tires on asphalt. I tuck my hands under my thighs to hide the shaking, trying to focus on breathing. In and out. One breath at a time.
"We should play cards," August suggests after a while, pulling a worn deck from his jacket pocket. "Pass the time."
My chest tightens. "I don't know how to play cards."
The admission slips out before I can stop it, and immediately I wish I could take it back. Now they'll think I'm stupid. Useless. What kind of person doesn't know how to play simple card games?
"That's okay," August says gently. "We can teach you something easy."
'You don't have to. I don't want to be a bother.'"
"You're not a bother," Hawk says from beside me, his voice warm. "We've got time to kill anyway."
I look up at him hesitantly. The alpha beside me has intricate tattoos covering his arms. Dark designs that wind up from his wrists and disappear beneath his leather jacket. His dark hair is tousled, and there's something about the way he smiles that doesn't match his intimidating appearance. It's warm, almost gentle, and makes my chest feel a little less tight
"And you're allowed to do things just because you want to," August adds softly. "Not because you have to or because someone expects it."
Because I want to.The concept feels foreign. When's the last time someone asked what I wanted instead of what I was supposed to want?
They settle on Go Fish, which August explains is simple enough. Ask for cards you need, draw from the pile if they don't have them, try to collect sets of four. I nod along, trying to follow, but my hands shake as I hold my cards.
"Take your time," August says quietly. "No pressure."
Dante is already sitting cross-legged on the mattress near the wall, and when August deals him in, I realize my breathing has gotten easier. Maybe because he's not looming over me. Maybe because he's being so careful not to crowd me.
The first few rounds are stilted. I ask for cards in barely audible whispers, jumping slightly whenever someone speaks too loudly. But slowly—so slowly I barely notice it happening—I start to relax.
"Daisy," Hawk says softly when it's his turn. "Do you have any threes?"
"Go fish," I say, my voice a little louder than before. I feel proud when I remember the right response.
"Damn," he mutters good-naturedly, and the casual way he swears around me—like I'm a real person, not a delicate flower—makes something warm flicker in my chest.
A few rounds later, when I lay down my first set of cards, Hawk's grin widens. "Look at that. Natural card shark."
The praise makes heat flood my cheeks, but not the bad kind. The good kind. When's the last time someone was pleased with me for something so simple?
"Hawk," I say during my next turn, and my voice comes out stronger than before. "Do you have any queens?"
