Chapter 39 The Bloody Martin
Daisy’s P. O. V.
“Mommy… Daddy…” Hope’s voice resonates through the hall as she rushes towards us. Aunt Eva follows her, her eyes filled with concern fixed on me.
I stand up from the sofa and lift Hope into my arms. “My baby.” I embrace her, instantly feeling better. Hope is like a star in my life who always brightens my days, no matter how dark they are.
“Daddy…” she jumps into Luke’s arms. “Is this your house?”
“No, baby. Daddy’s house is in Florida. Remember, I came to New York for work,” Luke explains, holding Hope close.
Hope’s eyes fill with sadness as she asks, “Will you leave me?”
“No, baby. Daddy will never leave you.”
As they converse, Aunt steps closer to me. “Daisy, how are you?”
“I was shaken, but I’m fine now,” I give her an honest answer.
She pulls me into a warm hug. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was so worried about you.” She rubs my back before pulling away.
I’m feeling much better now, thanks to Luke. The way he took care of me when I was shaken is something I’m really grateful for. He made me feel better without crossing any boundaries, even when I was willing to surrender to him completely.
I can never forgive Luke for cheating on me in the past, but today he has truly earned my respect.
I became so emotional when he fed me the soup with such tenderness. He’s changed so much, and it’s making me fall for him all over again.
I glance at him, a soft smile gracing my lips. He meets my gaze, his eyes filled with warmth.
“Mommy, when will we go back to our home?” Hope asks, catching my attention. “I miss Rabbi.”
As Hope mentions the place where the dreadful incident happened, my body trembles and my eyes become moist.
Don’t cry in front of Hope, Daisy. You have to be strong for her.
I clench my hands, trying to control my emotions.
“Hope, do you want to go back home, leaving your daddy so soon?” Luke asks her, and I sigh with relief.
Aunt places her hand on my shoulder, and I blink at her in reassurance.
When we settle in the hall, Hope chatters about her day, sitting in my lap.
“I have work,” Luke says, standing up. “I have to leave.”
Why is he suddenly leaving? I think he must be going to handle Martin’s matters.
“Why, Daddy?” Hope jumps down from my lap and dashes towards him. She requests, holding his hand. “Please don’t go.”
“It’s important work, Hope. Daddy will be back in an hour. Promise,” he explains, stroking her cheeks.
“Okay.” She pouts at him.
Luke glances at me with concern in his eyes. “Daisy, take care.”
I give him a slight nod in response.
It seriously feels like a dream come true, Luke taking care of me like nothing else matters to him except me. It’s exactly what I yearned for five years ago.
***
Luke’s P. O. V.
I have been thrashing the bloody Martin, but the rage inside isn’t diminishing. He lies in a pool of blood, every bone broken. My knuckles are bruised from constantly hitting him. First, I broke the bones in his hands, then his legs, and kicked his groin thousands of times for even thinking to touch what belongs to me.
However, even that doesn’t seem enough to satisfy the anger boiling within me. How dare he lay a finger on Daisy? How dare he hurt her?
Daisy’s vulnerable gaze, the blood on her lips, her distraught appearance, and the haunting echoes of her sobs, broken voice, and desperate pleas to erase the trauma he inflicted-all these things fuel my rage.
I know I’ll only get relief after ending his life. I never thought that one day, I would be dying to kill someone. He hurt the woman who is my life. I punished myself for fucking five years for hurting her, and now how can I leave this bastard who attempted to rape her?
“Goodbye, Martin.” I deliver a last blow to his head with the rod.
As he takes his last breath in front of me, a smile of relief spreads across my face.
This is what happens when anybody messes with my family.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial a number.
“Hello-”
“I have a dead body to be taken care of.”
“Consider your work done, Mr. Anderson. Just send me the address.”
I disconnect the call and leave Daisy’s apartment after glancing at the lifeless body of the person who hurt the love of my life, my entire world, my ex-wife.
***
I enter my villa and find Eva sitting in the hall.
“Where are Daisy and Hope?” I ask, approaching her.
“Hope is taking a nap, and Daisy is with her.” She points to my room, standing up.
I nod in response.
“How are you feeling, Luke?” She questions, placing her hand on my arm.
“I’m devastated after witnessing Daisy’s condition,” I begin, feeling a lump in my throat as memories of her vulnerable state flash in front of my eyes. “I can’t see her in pain.” Tears roll down my cheeks.
She gives me a warm hug, which I need the most at this time.
“I can understand. Seeing your loved ones in pain is the worst thing,” she says as we pull away. “But you’re a strong man, Luke. I’m certain you’ll handle it. And Daisy will be fine in a few days.”
“Thank you.” I pass her a grateful smile for being there for me. This lady is so generous and understanding. I always feel lighter when I talk to her.
“Take care of yourself, Luke. Daisy and Hope need you.” She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze.
I nod and head to my room where Daisy and Hope are.
As I open the door quietly, I find Daisy lying on the bed, staring straight ahead, hugging Hope and gently stroking her hair as she sleeps. Daisy looks up as I enter, and our eyes meet. Her eyes still reflect the pain she’s been through.
“How are you feeling now?” I inquire as I walk over to her.
“Much better.”
I lean down and kiss her forehead before pressing my lips to Hope’s head. “I’ll be right back after a quick shower.”
As she nods, I turn and head to the bathroom.
When I return from the bathroom and sit beside Daisy on the bed, taking her hand in mine, she notices my bruised knuckles and her eyes dart to my face.
“Luke,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “What did you do?”
“I took care of everything, Daisy. You don’t have to worry about him ever again.” I blink at her, stroking her cheeks.
She takes my hand in hers and brushes her thumb against my knuckles before carefully untangling herself from Hope and sitting up.
“Where is the first aid box?”
“It’s fine-”
She glares at me. “Tell me.”
I must admit, my heart leaps with joy at seeing her care for me after five long years.
“There.” I point to the drawer of the bedside table.
She retrieves the first aid box and sits back down beside me. I keep my eyes fixed on her face as she cleans and bandages my bruised knuckles, concern etched on every line of her face.
“Thank you,” I whisper. She pauses and glances at me, her brows narrowed in confusion. “For still caring about me,” I finish my sentence.
Without a word, she looks down and continues her work.
After she finishes bandaging my knuckles and closes the first aid box, she brings my hand closer to her lips and presses her lips on the bandage. As I close my eyes, losing myself in her soothing touch, my lips curve into a contented smile.
If getting hurt brings out her caring side, I’ll bear more wounds without a second thought.