Steel Hearts Oopsie Daisy

Oopsie Daisy

Prologue:

"Could it be true?" Saxon asked as Mitch skimmed the letter.

"Sure, anything could be true," Mitch shrugged.

"You were his friend. Are you sure you don't remember him knocking up any girl back then? He would have only been fifteen or even younger when he knocked her up if it were true," Saxon frowned.

"He was sleeping with any girl that would let him from younger than that. Knox wasn't exactly discreet, so even you would have known that much. It's not out of the realms of possibility that it's true, and she went away to have the kid because she knew he wouldn't want it, just like the letter says," Mitch shrugged. "And trust me, if she is who she says she is, her parents would have kicked her out rather than admit their daughter didn't keep herself pure for some arranged marriage.

"Pull Ian from what he's working on," Saxon said. "We'll keep this just between the six until we have confirmation."

"I'll go myself. I could use a bit of distance from the three of you being all loved up." It was the first time since forming their Brotherhood that Mitch felt excluded from the friendship between Saxon and Beau. Not that he was excluded from anything except the intimate part of their relationship with Grace, and he had no wish to make that triple into a quadruple or whatever they would call it. Time, he told himself. He just needed time to get used to the new dynamic after a decade of being closer than most friends.

"I'm sorry, brother," Saxon said. "We're all getting used to having Grace around. It's a bit of a culture shock for all of us." Then he leaned forward and looked at his friend seriously. "None of us are getting any younger maybe you need a girl of your own to be all loved up with as well. I highly recommend it." Saxon grinned widely. "Grace is the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Maybe, brother, but until then, I'll also organise a DNA kit for you. If we are going to prove the claims one way or the other, you'll be the closest living match to your brother," Mitch said. "It would be the most foolproof evidence."

Part 1.

Mitch killed his car's engine and sat slumped in the seat as he watched the young woman he followed park and get out of her car. She seemed to shiver and look over her shoulder as if feeling his eyes on her. Was it instinct, or did she know she was being followed?

The street lights illuminated little as he took photos to document his work. The woman looked good tonight, her long brown hair hanging in strait tresses partially covering her face as she turned to look around. The idea of what she smelled like or tasted like had him entertaining dark fantasies that he couldn't follow through on, not yet and maybe not ever, depending on the DNA test results.

He was impatient with waiting for all the evidence he needed to prove without a shadow of a doubt that she was the girl they had been searching for since receiving the letter from her mother. Although it hadn't been hard to get a sample for the DNA test, waiting for the results was much more challenging than he would have believed. The longer he was on this job, the more invested he became in its outcome, which was totally against his rules for jobs like this. He watched her until she disappeared inside the building and grimaced. The sooner they got her out of that place, the better. He picked up his phone to check in before going in to catch her show.

*****

Daisy's footsteps seemed loud as she hurried to the club's back door. Making a fist, she pounded on the door with as much force as she could muster in the cold night air. It was the best way to get the attention of the night security she had found over time. The door opened a few seconds later, and she grinned at the man who was so tall and wide that he made her feel like a munchkin from Oz.

"Hey Otto," Daisy smiled as she squeezed passed him. "How's your day been?"

"Can't complain," he rumbled. "Crowded house tonight, you need me, you call, you understand?"

"Got it," she nodded. "Is Cherry here yet?"

"Yeah," he grunted and lifted his chin toward her usual station beside the stage. "Boss wants to see you once you're set-up," he told her and turned back to his post by the back door.

"Daisy, you're not scheduled to dance until later," Cherry said as she approached the podium where the older woman oversaw the lineup on stage each night. "Boss wants to see you first, and then you can walk the floor until you're up. After that, I'll send a fifteen-minute call as usual."

"Okay, I'll put a uniform on then," Daisy Shrugged. Then she went into the backstage area to the station she usually used. Once she was as put together as possible, she went to the boss, Hugo.

She owed Hugo her loyalty for hiring a girl with no experience and giving her as many shifts as he had, but she always felt uncomfortable being called to his office since she auditioned for him. She adjusted her clothes for maximum coverage before knocking on his office door. She may have done what she needed to get this job, but she had managed to escape becoming the boss's pet.

"Come in, Daisy," Hugo raised his voice in answer to her knock. He made no effort to hide how his eyes roved over her body as she walked into the room. She smoothed over her uniform, ensuring it covered any part of her anatomy he might leer at and pulled at her top, so she wasn't showing much cleavage.

"I don't know what you have done or planned to do. Your life outside of the club is yours, and I don't care what you do as long as you show up and do your job when you're supposed to. I don't need your other life choices causing cops, private investigators or bounty hunters to come in here asking questions," Hugo said in a lecturing tone.

"I don't have anyone like that looking for me. I barely have enough time or money to work, eat and sleep. Which is why I was asking for more work," Daisy huffed, not liking that he was accusing her of doing something dodgy or illegal that would bring the heat onto the club.

"The point is people are watching you on the main floor, and I don't think you're ready for downstairs," he grumbled as if in indecision. "You don't do private shows or lap dances. Big money is with the people who frequent downstairs. They have expectations for lap dances and strippers who show far more flesh and allow more physical contact than you are comfortable with, even with the losers on the main floor. You're fine downstairs on Mondays because it's slow, but girl, I doubt you have the moxie for the show's reality downstairs," Hugo stated the facts for not the first time. "Your good up here. The innocent angel thing works for you. So, what do I do with you if your watchers continue to frequent the club?"

"Well, Maybe I am ready for the dark angel act now. It's not like I just started work here this week. You know I can dance," Daisy argued, not wanting to lose the only source of income she had right now. She was prepared to sell a little more of her soul to the perverts downstairs if that's what she had to do to keep her job.

"You sure about that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as he contemplated her. "It might be better to have you downstairs until whoever this is asking about you goes away. Does anyone else here know your real name?" he asked.

"No," she rolled her eyes. "I only told you because I had to give you my tax file number to get paid. If people knew me before my mother died and came looking for that girl, they wouldn't find her here. I'm not that girl anymore, not by name, look or personality. Not that anyone besides Mum's ex would, and he wasn't smart enough to work out where I went."

"Alright, let Cherry know you'll be working the floor and the cage downstairs this week. Then go check in with Gabe, he'll keep a close eye on you tonight, and we'll talk again tomorrow," Hugo said, dismissing her.

"Thanks," Daisy said but was concerned about how that conversation had gone. Had someone been in asking about her by her real name? Why would anyone who knew her birth name be looking for her here? Why would Hugo protect her by hiding her here amongst his staff? He didn't owe her anything. If anything, she owed him for giving her a chance to earn enough to survive alone when her mother died.

*****

Mitch's screen showed the first-floor office in the Dross House. It was a cool place, and he was more than happy that his crew were becoming city-based rather than run out of the packhouse. Mitch hadn't been expecting the rest of the six to be there along with Saxon, and he prepared to give his report professionally.

"It's her," Mitch tapped the folder before him. "So, it's time to get her out and bring her in."

"Alright," Saxon nodded. If he was honest, it didn't matter one way or the other to him. After his mother died, he buried any familial feelings he might have had, and this girl was nothing to him. The daughter of a ruthless brother who had fucked up royally and, together with his father, had caused the death of his mother, an empire, and over one hundred people who had worked within it. "Pick her up with as little fuss as possible? Do you need backup?"

"If I can get her before she heads to work, I should be fine," Mitch said. "If I have to go in to get her, I can use a couple of the local Alliance members. I have to say I'm relieved. They've moved her to the lower floor," he said through gritted teeth. "You must be a member to get down there, and I can't talk my way into that elite group. But it seems like something has got them all on alert in the club, so this is probably a good time to act before whatever is happening there goes down."

"Why?" Saxon rumbled. "Do you think someone else was told who she was? Did you make your interest in her obvious?"

"No more obvious than a dozen other men in there. It's just policy to check out prospective members before they grant all-access passes. I hate that she's down there where I can't ensure her safety, though," he grumbled. "She's not like the other girls. She doesn't give a lot of lap dances or private shows. The security team seems to protect her from it in the main, but I imagine she's about to make that leap from dancer to escort if she stays downstairs," he voiced his fear. Of course, an escort was not the right term for what was probably happening out of sight of the main floor, but he couldn't bear the thought of what she was really doing down there.

"Do you think the owner knows who she is, and that's why she is protected?" Saxon mused. Not only was she his niece, but she also belonged to her mother's powerful family. Of course, it was evident that they hadn't cared if they knew about her paternity, but still, she was a Vecchio on her maternal side, and Saxon wasn't sure that was a battle he wanted to fight. "Okay, scoop her up today and bring her in," Saxon said. "A private jet will be waiting for you at Mike's airfield. Once you're back here, we'll make some decisions."

Mitch blew out a breath and logged out. Today, finally. He just hoped she would come quietly and not fight him on what he would reveal to her. Then, tapping his chest to ensure he had the letter in his pocket, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

The drive to her house was frustrating as it seemed every wanker and their poodle were on the roads that day. So, he made calls for the backup he was sure he wouldn't need just in case. When he pulled up at her house, he considered how he would approach her. She would surely recognise him from the club and think he was a stalker. She wouldn't be wrong, but his motives were less sinister than a typical stalker. He wanted to give her a better alternative to her life and a family she probably never knew she had.

*****

Daisy saw the car pull up outside her share house. It was second nature to her now to hide from anything she was unsure of after a lifetime of living with a neurotic mother who travelled from town to town. They had settled in this town, finding a motel where the rent was cheap, and they didn't have to sign a lease before the armed robbery that had taken her mother's life when she had only stopped for a packet of smokes on her way home from work one night. Daisy had known not to stop and mourn her mother until she had gathered all of their belongings and hidden away from where her mother had died. That was months ago, though, and now there was a new threat parking his car in front of her share house.

The emergency go-bag she always packed, just as her mother had always taught her to, was in her hands before the man could get out of the car. She watched from behind the curtain as he approached the door to knock. She wondered if anyone of her housemates would be awake and if they were, would they even recognise her name if the man was there for her. When he turned toward the window, where she stood watching as if knowing she was there, she gasped. She knew him from the club! Had he followed her home? There was no way she was sticking around to find out! She grabbed her bag and made her way to the back door and the relative freedom away from the house.

She stumbled down the stairs falling in a heap and bruising her hands and knees, but she didn't stay down long. She was accident-prone, and she barely felt the little tumbles anymore. She had practically turned stumbling and falling into an art form and could even juggle items she was carrying as she went down most times. Her mother had nicknamed her Oopsie Daisy, the name she took when she went to see Hugo about a job.

She ran to the back corner of the yard and found the gap in the fence. She saw the man appearing at the corner of the house to investigate the noise. However, she was through the opening and ran along the back council easement until she reached the tiny path to the park, where she left her car in a hidden spot. She got into her car and drove, not thinking about where she was going. Her mother's words ran through her mind. Fill the tank close to home and withdraw as much cash as you can so they cant track you through your cards until you are well away from them. Then run as soon as you have to use them again. Her mother's words sounded in her mind as she checked the petrol gauge.

The problem was that she didn't have access to her mother's mysterious source of cash, and what she did have after having to fix the rust-bucket she sat in wouldn't get her far. If she could work one more shift at the club, she could leave, or maybe Hugo would pay her to go rather than bring drama to his club. She only needed a couple of hundred bucks to get her to the next town and find a place to live and work. She'd spent enough time thinking about it. She needed to follow the plan her mother had drilled into her. Petrol first, then she would see about the cash she needed. She hated that she had spent her small savings on the car now. She would trade it all in for a bus ticket if she could.

The idea stuck in her head, and she turned away from the petrol station. Instead, she headed for the second-hand car yards she knew existed in an industrial part of the town. The car wouldn't get her much, but it might just be enough to avoid returning to the club, and the man she knew would be waiting for her there, and a bus ticket couldn't be that much, could it?

But a bus ticket to where. Daisy's mind leapt to an older man with whom she had a brief but intense relationship three moves ago. He wouldn't be pleased to see her after she left without a word. The delicious punishment he would give her made her tingle, but he could just as easily turn his back on her, though she doubted he would. He was a good man who told her often that all he wanted was to look after her. She decided to take the chance on his being happy to see her again and, with a destination in mind, pulled into the car lot and smiled brightly at the salesman approaching her.

*****

"Fuck!" Mitch swore. In any scenario he had conjured about how this would go, her running from him had not been one of them. Angry boyfriend or pimp he could have dealt with and done it happily. Friends, girly emotions or theatrics? No problem, but she ran! Without even asking why he had shown up at her house! "Like a fucking stalker," he reminded himself. It was no wonder she ran. So, he jogged back to his car and then sped to where he knew she hid hers just in time to see her start the engine and fly away.

He followed her to a used car yard and watched as she tried to negotiate a better deal for the car. Then, finally, his phone chimed, and he picked it up, still keeping his eyes on the girl and hating the disappointed look in her eyes.

"Deacon," Mitch answered the call. "Sorry had to bail from the house and forgot to let you know."

"I'm behind you dickhead, use your mirrors," was the gravelly response.

"See the disappointed girl the sleazy salesman is trying to lowball?" Mitch asked and waited a moment for his alliance brother to get eyes on the girl.

"Yeah," came the response.

"Go offer her a couple of grand for her car and tell her it's a project for your kid brother or something. Then, offer to drive her to where she has to go afterwards," Mitch instructed.

"Don't got that cash on me, brother," Deacon said.

"I do. Walk past the car on your way," Mitch ordered and was grateful when the dude stepped off his bike. "Thanks," he slapped the cash into the man's hand as he walked past and headed towards Daisy.

Mitch's view became partially obstructed, and he considered getting out of the car as minutes ticked by, making him anxious and impatient. Finally, after what seemed like an hour but was probably only fifteen minutes or so, Mitch heard a shriek and a car door close and the little car being driven away from the lot by Daisy with Deacon in the passenger's seat. It took Mitch all of thirty seconds to get his head together enough to follow them. She wasn't driving erratically, and the two seemed animated as they drove. Surprise washed over him when she turned into the Alliance packhouse, and Deacon waved his hand to encourage Mitch to follow them inside the rolling gates.

Stepping from his car, he looked at Daisy, who stood guardedly beside her car door. Deacon came to stand beside her after giving instructions about his bike to one of his men. Then watched as Mitch closed the distance between them, looking unhappy.

"What's going on?" Mitch asked Daisy but fully expected Deacon to answer by the stubborn set of her jaw.

"He says you're a good guy who is just trying to help me," Daisy said uncertainly. "He says you were at the club trying to make sure I stayed safe because you think you know my family?" she frowned. "He says that if he is lying, I can kick him in the balls, and I can still keep the five grand he gave me for the car," she finished more confidently.

"I'm not sure you want the details of your true family being spoken about here. Would you come inside with us or sit in the car and let me tell you what I know. I am probably the only person alive who could give you the details of when your parents were together." Mitch admitted.

"Fine, it's not like I have any choice now," she sighed and went to step away from the car. She gasped as she lost her footing, her skirt drawing tight, and as she slipped on the gravel driveway, the movement drew her skirt down her legs as the car door held onto the fabric rather than ripping the flowing skirt. She cried out as she went down, her legs tangling further in the material as she tried to avert the humiliation, but her hands and knees met the ground for the second time that day.

The men rushed to help her, not realising the reason for her fall as she kicked her legs to detangle them from the evil fabric. Then, feeling her face flame as the men stepped back, letting her go quickly at the sight of her underwear. She reefed open the car door and unceremoniously pulled her skirt back on, thankful that she had worn nice sensible cottontails that morning rather than a sequined thong she had stolen from the club.