KAISER

She's neither talking nor looking at me, and it's making me impatient.

I step forward and grab her arm, but she jerks away instantly.
"Let's go," I order.

"Where? Or is this the part where you get me fired from school too?" she boldly asks, her eyes defiantly lifted, signaling her expectation of my response.

I'm trying to be kind, hell, I'm trying to be soft. But it's hard when she keeps resisting and fighting me.
"Daisy, would you prefer walking or swinging over my shoulder around the school? I have no problem with that," I huff.

"I am not going anywhere with you. I do not want to ride with you. I do not want to be close to you," she spits, crossing her arms over her chest, refusing to make any progress.

Why does she have to be so stubborn?

"Then you've made your decision."

I bend over and grab her by the knees, lifting her over my shoulder.

"Are you insane? Put me down," she panics. Ha! I've always known she's all bark and no bite. "Please, this will get back to Riley. Just put me down; I'll walk," she pleads.

Not that I care because I considered this in the first place.

If she had pleaded like this days ago, I'd have taken pleasure in doing the opposite to ruin her friendship with Riley. But right now, I'm trying to mend the relationship between her and me; to do so, I have to listen.

"Good." I exhale and lower her safely on her feet.

Like a proper gentleman, I wait for her to lead ahead before following behind her. She has a frown etched on her face; I can hear her tiny, enraged breaths as we make our way to the lot. It's the soundtrack to my ego, since it's obvious I've won this round,

"We will be right behind, sir," Paul informs me.

"Stay. I will get her back for the next class. Genetics and DNA, right?" I question, not that I don't know; I am aware of all her classes.

"Yes, sir."

"Which is yours?" she sarcastically asks when we reach the parked cars. I don't debate; she's right, I don't have a specific ride.

"The black one," I answer.

"Of course, black, just like your intentions." She smiles and rounds the car to the passenger side.

It took me a moment to shake off the grievance; she practically slapped me with her words.
I lie to myself she didn't mean it before hopping into the car and turning on the engine.

"What do you want, Kaiser?" she asks as I pull out of the school.

"Stop calling me that, as if you're my parent."

"Oh KC, I forgot you have a better name."

It's good to know she can be cocky. But that's not the point—I need to get her to quit her new job, and I have to do it the hard way.

"Look, can we start over?" I offer.

"Start over? Don't you get it? We can't start over. I've got a job, and I'll move out of your penthouse soon."

And there she is, already hitting the spot I'm hoping to preserve.

"You have to reject the job."

Her eyes arch, her mouth suddenly falls open as if I've said something offensive. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You have to reject it. It's not safe; I don't have eyes everywhere to protect you." I play the worried card, but of course, I have eyes everywhere. Daisy's smart enough to know that too.

"I'm not asking for your protection, nor am I asking for your help. I don't even understand why I have Paul and Vance crowding me. I can't breathe!" she practically yells in my ear as I take the freeway.

"Caden is a strange guy," I state the reason, avoiding her stare.

"I know who he is. It's my problem to worry about. Stay out of it," she bellows, frantic with frustration. It's obvious in her composure. She's flushed already, and I'm just offering to be nice.

"Daisy..."

"Stop the car," she interrupts me with a command.

"What?" Dumbfounded, I narrow my eyes at the furious girl beside me.

"Just stop the car, KC. The last time we had this argument in a car, you almost killed us."

She has a point, but that doesn't mean I would agree to it. I don't like people telling me what to do. I hate it. However, I pull over by the side of an empty road once again and climb out, hoping the air will stabilize the sudden fury and irritation swelling inside me, which I can't suppress.

She doesn't get it, does she? There's someone out there trying to get to her, and she thinks she has everything under control?

I rub my tensioned forehead with my fingers. It's not enough—I need to punch something so badly. She alone can get me all messed up.

The fact that she's always screwing with me like a machine makes me hate my existence. She wasn't here; I was scattered. She came back, yet I'm still scattered.

For fuck's sake, I'm trying to be the person she wanted the first day she set her gorgeous eyes on me in that fucking kitchen, but every time we get into an enclosed room, she keeps coming at me.

I hear the car door open and close and footsteps getting nearer. It evokes the words from my throat.

"Why the hell can't you see I'm trying to help?" Since she left me, I haven't had to try this hard; I haven't had to talk softly to anyone. But I'm standing here right now, worried I'm raising my voice too high.

"I don't need it." She stands in front of me, leaving only an inch of space between us, rebelliously folding her arms and facing me boldly.

She's deceiving herself if she thinks putting on a brave front is what she needs around me. That only turns me on, and when I'm turned on, she's going to be moaning hard because I like it better when I pleasure her.