Daisy (Archer's Creek Book 2) Read online

  Daisy, Archer’s Creek: Book Two

  Copyright © 2018 by Gemma Weir

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover design by Hart & Bailey Design Co

  Interior design by Champagne Book Design

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  For mom, it’s okay you can read this one xx

  I don’t see the point of weddings.

  It’s the 21st century; it’s easier to get a divorce than it is to mail a letter. So what’s the fucking point in bothering to get married?

  Today is Echo and Liv’s wedding day. Echo’s been counting down the days until he gets to claim his woman in the eyes of the law. He owns her ass in every other way, but according to Echo, a wedding makes it official. That girl ran like the Devil himself was chasing her all the way back to England, and Echo chased right after her. Those two were meant to be together, and he brought her back home, to the Sinners where she belongs. Liv’s a hell of a fucking old lady. Maybe if I found someone like her, I’d consider tying myself down permanently, but I doubt it.

  I quietly chuckle to myself as I watch Echo fidget nervously at the front of the makeshift aisle. I don’t understand why the fucker’s worried, we all know Liv’s coming. Pulling in a bored sigh, I lean back in my seat, stretching my legs out in front of me as far as I can.

  Tipping my head back, I stare at the clouds slowly drifting across the sky. I rotate my neck to the side and that’s when I see her. Long blonde hair, so white it’s practically fucking glittering in the sunshine. A tight, round ass and perfect legs. I will her to turn around and beg the fucking gods that she’s as gorgeous from the front as she is from the back. She steps slightly to the side, pushing her hair behind her ear and I glimpse absolute fucking perfection.

  She’s a walking wet dream. Her profile shows a hint of small perky tits, pouty lips, and a gorgeous face. Leaning forward, I peer around the people in front of me to try to get a better look at her. The flowery dress she’s wearing covers her from her knees to her neck but even the loose fabric can’t hide how stunning she is.

  She’s talking to some dude at the side of the makeshift altar, but I can’t tear my eyes from her long enough to care who he is. Her head is bowed forward, and her hands are clasped together in front of her. Her body language screams at me and unthinking I rise from my chair.

  Blade’s hand on my arm grabs my attention and I slowly force myself to look at him. “Daisy, sit the fuck down; Liv’s gonna be here any minute.” I nod and lower myself back into my seat. Unable to help myself, I glance back to the girl. Her shoulders are slumped, she’s withering into herself and she looks small and lonely. Her waterfall of white blonde hair shields her face completely and I watch her hands fidget nervously, bunching and releasing the fabric in the front of her skirt. She’s a picture of sadness and sudden unexpected anger builds in my chest.

  I force my eyes away from the girl and focus on the guy standing in front of her. Mayor fucking Jefferies, a pillar of the Archer’s Creek community and a douchebag of the highest order. His piggy face is red and angry, and I try to read his lips, but he’s speaking too quickly for me to make out any words.

  My legs twitch, urging me to move. My mind’s screaming at me to go to her, to cross the field and shelter her from whatever is making her cower. I move on autopilot and shuffle past the other guests sat in the row. As I walk toward her, I can hear Blade calling me, but I ignore him. He’s not important right now.

  A low buzz of excitement prickles across my skin, the feeling intensifying with every step closer to her I take. My mind blocks out everything around me and all I can see is her. My sole focus is getting to this girl.

  When I’m only a few feet away from her, I hear Mayor douchebag’s affected voice. I’m not sure if he’s trying to pretend he’s a big city politician, but someone needs to tell him the fake Yankee accent makes him sound like a dick. “Young lady, you shouldn’t be here,” the mayor grunts.

  I don’t hear the girl’s response, but I increase my pace reaching them a moment later. “Mayor, it’s a beautiful day for a wedding, isn’t it?” I say, smiling brightly.

  Mayor douchebag lifts his head and scowls at me. “Can I help you?” He asks snootily.

  I flash him my brightest smile, flicking my eyes to the girl next to me, then back to him. “Liv’s gonna be here any minute, this might be a good time to take your seat,” I say.

  The girls head slowly lifts, the waterfall of her hair parts, and I get a glimpse of pale, freckled skin. The mayor moves forward, but I sidestep, blocking his path. I turn to the girl and hold out my hand. “I’m sorry, it seems the mayor’s forgotten his manners. We haven’t been introduced. I’m Daisy.”

  Her head snaps up and her face comes fully into view. Huge copper-colored eyes stare back at me. Her high cheekbones lead to full pink lips, a slight smile twitching at the edges. She slowly reaches forward and takes my hand. When her skin connects with mine I wrap my fingers around hers and squeeze gently. Her eyes widen dramatically and her lips part as she starts to speak.

  “Angelique, you need to leave right now. I won’t tell you again,” the mayor snaps.

  She instantly reacts to his voice. I watch the spark in her eyes fade, her mouth closes, and her head falls forward. Her hair cascades around her face until she’s hidden once again, and her hand becomes limp in mine. She silently pulls free, turns from me and walks away.

  Like an idiot, I watch her go.

  With my head down, I scurry past the rows of guests and rush toward my mama’s Toyota Prius. Unlocking the door, I slide into the driver’s seat and brace my hands against the steering wheel.

  Daisy. A silly name for such a beautiful boy.

  No, not a boy; a man—most definitely a man. Shamelessly, I’d allowed my eyes to rake over him. He was tall and slim; but with toned, muscular arms patterned with colorful tattoos. His scruffy blond hair and beard seemed to mask his age, but
I’d guess at early twenties.

  He was a biker and like nearly all the other men at the wedding, he was wearing one of the black leather vests all the Sinners wore. At first glance he’d looked too young to be a biker, but when our eyes met, there was a maturity and a hardness in his gaze I hadn’t expected.

  He was the first person, other than my parents, who had spoken to me in weeks. When he’d reached out to shake my hand, I was so surprised I’d reciprocated without even thinking about it. His grip had been gentle, and his thumb had rubbed circles on my skin.

  I wanted to speak to him. I’d opened my mouth to tell him my name, but I missed my chance. Instead my father had interrupted, and I’d run away like a child.

  Tears pool in my eyes and my father’s voice rings in my ears. I start to replay what had happened with him before Daisy had arrived.

  There were so many people there. Cautiously, I skirted the crowd and spotted my father talking to a group of people, at the side of the rows of wedding seating. Approaching him silently, I gently placed my hand on his suit jacket to let him know I was there. The moment his gaze landed on me, his cheerful face darkened and grabbing me around the wrist he dragged me away from the group, squeezing my wrist tightly. “Angelique, what the hell are you doing here?” He snapped angrily.

  In the face of his anger I instantly dropped my head forward and stared at the ground. “Mama sent me; you forgot your cellphone.”

  He dropped my wrist, and I fought the urge to cradle my sore skin. “I don’t want you around these types of people,” he sneered, his eyes flitting from right to left.

  “Why not? It’s just a wedding,” I asked, confusion clear in my tone.

  My father scoffed and took a menacing step closer. “Exactly, Angelique. You don’t see the problem because you’re an idiot.”

  This wasn’t the first time he’d told me I was an idiot. This wasn’t even the first time he’d told me today. My father loved to remind me that I was stupid. His face was red now and his words had become an angry hiss. “These people are bikers—criminal scum. The Doomsday Sinners are bottom feeders who should be run out of Archer’s Creek.”

  I spoke before I thought and instantly wished I could take back the words. “Mama says they’re nice folk.”

  He laughed, a dry haughty sound that made me tense. “Nice. Nice. Well your mama’s an idiot too, always has been and always will be. The Doomsday Sinners are dangerous, they’d chew up and spit out a little moron like you. I don’t ever want to see you near any of them ever again.”

  There was no point arguing. Answering him back wouldn’t end well, so instead I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  His voice dropped lower and his words seethed from him. “I’m serious, Angelique. Unless you want to end up like your sister, a biker whore. She got in with those bastards and look what happened to her. She’s dead.”

  His daughter was dead. Why wasn’t his voice cracking with emotion at the acknowledgment that his oldest child was no longer alive? He sounded like he enjoyed saying the words and I silently gritted my teeth together, forcing the angry accusation that was desperate to escape to stay on my tongue. I pushed the words down, squeezed the fabric of my dress between my clenched fists and stayed quiet.

  I wanted to leave, to run away from my awful father and his nasty diatribe of insults. But I didn’t. Instead, I stayed still and let him angrily dishonor the memory of my sister. “Your sister was a slut who couldn’t keep her legs closed. She sullied our good name and made a fool of me. I refuse to allow you to behave like that too. Just look at you, all fancied up. Is that why you’re here, to look for a biker to whore yourself out to?”

  Overwhelmed with shame at his words, I dropped my chin until it nearly touched my chest. My hair fell around my face, hiding me from his anger and horrible insinuations. I clasped my hands together tightly and fought the urge to scream that I wasn’t a whore and neither was Nicole.

  My sister fell in love and then she died. I was never allowed to grieve for her. Instead I’d spent the last two years listening to him sully her memory and call her mean and nasty names. My sister was a good person. She sheltered me from him, but now she was gone.

  His vicious words continued and like normal I stood quietly and took them. “I won’t have another promiscuous daughter. I will correct the mistakes your sister made with you. You’re too stupid to make sensible decisions by yourself, just like your mother. I don’t know what I did to deserve such idiots in my life.”

  Silently I listened, never responding, ignoring his vindictive diatribe. Hidden behind my hair, I drifted away inside my head, humming the tune that had got me through his rants ever since I was a child. His voice rose until he was almost shouting. “Young lady, you shouldn’t be here.”

  Black leather boots appeared next to my father’s pretentious shiny loafers, and the smell of clean, woody aftershave wafted through the air. Lifting my head, I got my first glimpse of the man that smelled so delicious.

  My father spoke, but we ignored him. The man reached out his hand and I took it. My skin tingled the moment it connected with his, and for one blissful moment I forgot who I was, and who my father was.

  I was just a girl meeting a boy.

  I snap back to reality. My fingers are clenched tightly around the steering wheel in front of me and I force my breathing to return to normal. Usually after dealing with my obnoxious father, I’m numb. I survive his behavior by zoning out and disconnecting from my emotions.

  But today, despite my father I’m smiling.

  Because I met a man—a beautiful man.

  And I want to see him again.

  I watch Angelique until she disappears out of sight. I’m a fucking Sinner and the club attracts a lot of beautiful women, but none of them compare to her.

  “Stay the hell away from my daughter.” Mayor douchebag’s angry voice snarls.

  I slowly turn and glare at him until he flinches. Turning my back on him, I continue to stare at the spot where Angelique went out of sight, hoping she’ll reappear.

  She dresses like she’s Amish. In her shapeless dress, with her makeup free face, and that air of fragility that surrounds her, she should be forgettable. But instead, I have a feeling her eyes will be etched into my brain forever. The wide, doe-eyed look has never done anything for me in the past, only on her it’s different. She’s different.

  Far too young, much too innocent, and the mayor’s daughter!

  Mayor Jefferies edges away from me and slinks back to his seat. I don’t know why Echo and Liv invited the asshole, and after getting a glimpse at how he speaks to his daughter I want to punch him in the face more than normal.

  Reluctantly, I walk back to my row, shuffle back to my spot and sit down. Blade raises his eyebrows, “What the fuck was that about?” He asks.

  I smile cockily, “Did you know that Mayor douchebag has a daughter?”

  Blade thinks for a minute. “Yeah, Nicole or Natalie, something like that.”

  I shake my head. “No, her name is Angelique. Young, blonde, fucking gorgeous.”

  Blade’s expression blanks. “Sorry, Prospect, doesn’t ring any bells.”

  I know the exact moment Liv’s car pulls up because Echo tenses, then pulls back his shoulders ready for action. I watch him, watch her, and see the physical reaction Liv has on him. All it takes is a glimpse of a smile and he calms. His woman is here.

  The wedding is quick and relatively painless. Liv looks hot in a bridal sort of way. Her white dress hugs her tits and it’s not too puffball or flouncy. Echo growls through the vows, his face only breaking momentarily into a wide smile when Liv promises to honor and obey. The minute the service ends, Echo drags Liv into his arms and kisses her, only pulling back long enough to throw her over his shoulder and disappear into the clubhouse.

  With the happy couple missing, the Old Ladies set to work organizing the BBQ and buffet. The smell of charcoal and steak wafts past me and my stomach growls. The cold bottle of beer in my hand drips ic
y water onto my fingers as I watch Mayor douchebag. Even from a distance I can see the sweat glistening on his forehead. His piggy face is bright red as he moves from group to group working the party crowd.

  I’ve never liked the guy, but something about the way Angelique cowered from him has anger bubbling in my stomach and my eyes narrowing as I glare at him across the meadow. My view is suddenly blocked and Anders, the Sinners’ President steps in front of me.

  Anders is an intense guy. Honestly, he scares the fuck out of me. If he tells me to do something, I fucking do it. His heavy palm settles on my shoulder and he glances behind him at the partygoers before turning his attention back to me. I inwardly flinch when his fingers tighten around my shoulder, squeezing tightly. “Daisy, a word in my office please.”

  Fuck.

  Cautiously, I follow him through the clubhouse, frantically wracking my brain to see what the fuck I could have done wrong. You don’t get called into the prez’s office without good reason. I’ve either majorly fucked up and I’m gonna get the shit kicked out of me, or I’m fucking out. The Sinners are my life, if they kick me out I don’t have anything else.

  I’ve never wished so hard for a beating.

  Anders holds open the door and gestures for me to walk ahead. I tentatively move through the room and stand behind the chairs in front of his desk, trying not to look like a nervous pussy. The door shuts and after circling the desk he lowers himself into his chair. Pulling in nervous breaths, I wait silently for what feels like hours until he gestures for me to sit. I lower myself into the seat and lean forward, bracing my elbows on my knees and clenching my hands into fists in my lap.

  “Daisy, how long have you been a prospect for?” Anders asks brusquely.

  Blowing out a shaky breath I respond. “About eighteen months, Prez.”

  Anders nods thoughtfully. “You spent a lot of time on security detail for Echo’s old lady.”

  Echo nearly broke my neck the day Liv disappeared, but no-one had mentioned that I let her slip away from me. I should have fucking known this was coming. I’m gonna get fucking kicked out of the Sinners over a fucking woman, and not even my fucking woman.