Page 32 of Dozer

He knew way too much about me, but all I could manage to say was, “How do you know my fingerprints are on file?”

“Your parents would’ve had insurance on you as a child, to pay a ransom if you were taken, and the insurance company would’ve required it.”

He gave me a few minutes to consider all that while he negotiated a complicated red light with roads coming in from odd directions, and then he said, “Okay, so I know a lot about you, and now it’s my turn to share a little. You’ll hear my brothers call me Dozer because that’s my name, now. I was born Dwayne Michael Stevens. You aren’t allowed to call me by any of my names at this time. I’m eitherMasterorSirto you.”

And just like that, I was happy and excited, instead of terrified. “You’re keeping me, Sir?!”

He glanced at me with a smile that went ear to ear, and then looked back to the road to say, “I didn’t expect you to be so happy about it. Yes, Daisy May, I’m keeping you. If you want to go public with who you are when it’s time to branch out as a tattoo artist, you can do that. If you want to become someone else, you can do that, too. You don’t have to make any decisions now, but it’s important for you to know my club and I can protect you from your parents, if you want to keep your original identity. Thefact is, Daisy Chanel-Hearst will be able to get a huge following and lots of tattoo customers strictly from the name recognition alone. Life will be simpler if we can turn you into Daisy Wright, or Dahlia Stevens, but in this, I’m going to let you decide how you want to move forward — an assumed identity or your original one.”

Stevens. That was his last name. Was he saying he might want to marry me, someday? I didn’t dare ask, so I pretended I didn’t catch the significance of the last name.

“I like the idea of being legally Dahlia with the nickname of Daisy,” I told him. “I kind of like the prospect of being myself again, too, but the names come with too much responsibility. Also, that Daisy was miserable, and I want to be happy.”

Chapter 26

Dozer

Marco had told me Daisy had never been adored and loved. Her parents had seen her as an asset. She’d been raised by an au-pair until time to go to school, and then she’d lived away from her family all but a few weeks a year. She’d gone home for Christmas, and she’d gone home for a few weeks in the summer, but she’d had some kind of trip or expedition or special learning experience every summer.

“Trust, Daisy May. We’re about to enter my neighborhood. Only patched members of my club can own property here. I own the lot and my home. The club owns the lots that haven’t been developed yet, which means I own a portion of them, too. Everyone in the neighborhood is either my brother, their ol’lady, or their children.” Hmmm, there were a few exceptions to that. “Or they’re the nanny to the kids, or best friend to an ol’lady who happens to not be…” Fuck, how did I explain Micca without having to explain Razor and Matty? I let it go, for now.

“And you’re letting me see where you live, but is that because you trust me, or because there’s no downside to it anymore? I can sketch you, Master, so it isn’t like you can drop me off all high and shit, and say you have no idea who I am.”

“The smart move would’ve been to put you in a trunk and take you to my house, so you’d have no idea what part of town you’re in, or even what state you’re in.” Because I’d seen her take note of the sign welcoming us to Georgia.

“But you didn’t do that, Sir.”

“I want this to be your home, too, eventually. I want you to feel as if you’re being taken to your new home, and not to your captor’s house.”

I scented so much conflict, I couldn’t get a handle on anything else she might be feeling, so I asked, “Tell me what you’re thinking, little flower.”

A sob burst forth from her, and then tears, “I want it to be my home, Master! But it’s all fucked up!”

I held back my sigh, because I hadn’t wanted her crying when we pulled into my driveway, but she was absolutely right about it being all fucked up. If I was a good person, I’d burn the contract and let her be my girlfriend, but fuck that — she wasmine, and I was keeping her.

But I’ve watched my brothers deal with their ol’ladies. Before I’d been sent away, it’d been an exasperated kind of entertainment, but when I’d been allowed back, I’d watched for real, trying to figure it out. I never wanted to feel that kind of alone again, and if I’d had an ol’lady, we could’ve made it a fun adventure. A long vacation.

Never before had I understood why someone would want one cunt to fuck for the rest of their life, but I got it, now.

Still, just one cunt? No, that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted someone who ismine, but I’d still be able to fuck around because she couldn’t make demands of me.

But I thought I knew how to deal with a crying female, after watching my brothers, so I told her, “Itisall fucked up, and I’m sorry for it, but this is us, little Daisy. We’re going to be a work in progress, but you gave yourself to me, and now I’m responsible for you.”

“Like the little prince?”

I had no idea what she was talking about, but before I could ask her, she shook her head and said, “I’m sorry, Master. I’m being silly. That’s a children’s book and this is real life.”

I liked the idea that someone had read books to her as a child, but I suppose it made sense. She’d grown up to enjoy reading, so someone had clearly steered her in that direction.

“Who read to you, when you were little?”

“Lots of people, Sir. My nanny was required to read to me three hours per day before I was old enough for school, and then once I went away to boarding school, we were read to every evening, as a group. We had almost no television privileges, and we weren’t allowed time on the internet until we were older. Free time was educational video games and time outside, mostly, but we all loved storytime, since we mostly only had access to the media room when we watched an approved movie, and we were rarely allowed to watch television programming.”

I made a mental note to buyThe Little Princeand read it, to see what she was talking about, and I changed the subject, since we were sitting in front of my house. “This is my home. We’ll go in through the garage, but I wanted you to see it from the outside, first.”

“So I’m going from garage to garage, Master?”

She wasn’t wrong. The exterior doors would be locked before I got her out of the SUV. My house is near the entrance to the neighborhood. I’d been an enforcer when I bought it, and it’d made sense for me to be here, kind of the guardian of the neighborhood.

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