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It’s open long enough for me to make out a small platform bed piled with heavy blankets. The fight in me dissipates. She can’t really be living in there, can she? Does Emerson know about this? He’d never let his employees struggle like that.
I cross the street in a hurry. When I reach the van, I bang on the window.
“Daisy, open up,” I bark.
“I said good night, Ronan,” she calls from inside.
“Get out of the fucking van,” I bellow, my teeth clenched. I thought I could keep my cool, but I guess I was wrong. Apparently, I’m incapable of remaining calm at the moment. I’m too appalled, and to be honest, more than a little fired up.
A moment later, the door slides open and she’s staring at me with an angry expression. “Who do you think you are?” she argues. “You think because you’re a man, you can just boss me around?”
“Are you sleeping in your van?” I ask, ignoring her antagonizing question.
She leans closer, those baby blue eyes piercing me with anger. “It’s. None. Of. Your. Business,” she snaps, punctuating each word.
I’ve lost control. It’s long gone. I act on impulse as I snatch her by the waist and hoist her over my shoulder, turning as if I mean to carry her home like this.
“What are you doing?” she screams.
Clearly, this won’t work. I’ll be thrown in jail within minutes if I try to abduct this flailing young woman and bring her to my apartment. I drop her onto the ground, so she’s standing just in front of me.
Get your head together, Ronan. What the fuck is wrong with you?
When she rears back her hand to slap me, I grab her by the wrist before she makes contact.
“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m going to let you sleep out here.”
“I’m not homeless,” she replies. “Lots of people live in their vans. It’s like…a mobile home. I’ve got a bed. And I’m safe.”
“You think walking around at night, letting people see you get into that van, is safe? A man could easily break the windows and hurt you.” I’m seething at this point.
“The only one bothering me is you,” she replies coldly, letting her eyes slide over to where my hand is still holding her wrist.
Am I overreacting? Am I wrong for wanting to stop this girl from sleeping in a van on one of the downtown streets?
Daisy is no one to me. Why should I care what she does?
I should walk away right now.
Except I can’t.
There is something holding me to this spot, keeping me tethered to her and this situation.
You can’t fix everything, my wife used to tell me. And she was right, but it would never fucking stop me from trying.
“I have plenty of room at my place. You can even park your van in the garage to keep it safe.”
She practically flinches, staring at me as if I’ve offended her. “Are you crazy? I can’t go with you.”
“Yes, you can, and you are,” I reply impatiently.
“Are you going to throw me over your shoulder again?” Her mouth is set in a straight line and it’s kind of cute how confidently she’s arguing with me—like she’d actually win.
My jaw clenches and I fight the urge to do exactly that. It would make me feel better, but it would only piss her off and I could never get her to stay. Instead, I lean in and look her in the eye. She seems a bit surprised by my proximity, her eyes going wide and the tension in her shoulders melting away.
“Daisy, I’m just trying to help you, okay? Let me help you.”
Her lips part as she struggles to find her response. “I…don’t need your help.”
