Right Hand Man

She’d never seen him like this before. Sure, Sal had come home a few nights, back in the day with a black eye, or a bloody nose every once in a while, but nothing like the damage that was displayed before Daisy now.

With lips taught, the blonde tenderly pulled the bandage away, stifling another grunt of dismay as she stared at the cut. It was large, but thankfully not deep enough to hit anything major. He wasn’t bleeding out either which seemed to bode well, but she needed to redress it and get him comfortable for the night to come.

"Can't say having a beautiful lady wake you up every hour on the hour is a bad thing." Sal chuckled and then grumbled as the pain shot through his body. "Fuck." This was not good. Everything ached and he knew he'd have to go back to the pharmacy in the morning, just to have everything checked under the light of day. At least the fucker that did this two him was swimming with the fishes now. 

The strained voice from the living room caught her off guard, making Daisy’s shoulders tense as she set down her paints, a dirty towel in her hands. He was home late, but for Sal, that wasn’t unusual. His business tended to always keep him up during the darker hours, but still, she felt uneasy as she moved down the hall.

“Everything al-…” She trailed off, the towel falling to the floor as she rushed to Sal’s side. “Oh sweetheart…” She wheezed, helping the injured man pull of his suit jacket. She knew what had happened, maybe not all of the details, but they weren’t important now. Instead, she was far more concerned with the state of his white shirt, the left side, just at his waist, stained red.

“Have you gone to the drugstore?” She questioned, flinging the coat to the floor before unbuttoning the collared shirt. “Eiji should have at least been able to clean this out.” Daisy frowned, ogling the botched stitching that had been done to the man’s side. It was a stab wound, but thankfully it wasn’t deep. By the look of it, Sal had just barely missed the brunt of the blow, but he had still been nicked, the slice flaying his skin just below the rib.

The gangster relaxed onto the couch, letting his body sinking into the cushions. He wanted to sleep, but he knew that would be a horrible idea. He definitely had a concussion, which meant Daisy would be waking him up every hour on the hour if he nodded off now. 

She began to scrutinize the man, batting his hand away as he attempted to smooth his hair down. 

"No, don’t touch it. I want you disheveled.. normal. Those turn out to be the best ones. The ones that look like you aren’t even trying to be beautiful, because you already are without having to try."

She chuckled, a slightly nervous noise that left Daisy’s throat after the thought about the words she let slip from her mouth. 

He wasn't one to halt creativity, so he stood there, hair a mess, reading the paper. Sal tried hard to focus on the articles, to really pay attention to the words in ink, littering the pages, but it was difficult, because when Daisy painted, she looked beautiful. Full of concentration and determination. It was one of Sal's favorite looks on her and part of him was glad he didn't have a right to interrupt this session like he normally would've. 

"Well, I literally have thrown everything I ever owned into the fire. It’s time for me to figure out who I really am. Who I want to be, and what makes me tick, because as sad as it sounds, I’m not sure I know who I am anymore. I just know that I like to paint, so I figured I should give it a go again."

He was in the way of the coffee pot, and without hesitation, almost as if this had been five years prior, Daisy came up to Sal, leaning against him in order to grab the coffee from behind his back. She was comfortable with him again, and although this was a rather compromising position for the both of them, she found she didn’t care. Rather, it served the man right to be traipsing around in his boxers. 

With a snide smile she poured her coffee, a smirk on her face as she refused to look him in the eye. 

Setting the pot back down she finally looked back up at him, cracking a full fledged smile. 

"Are you complaining?" He ask, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. "Cause your eyes are telling me something entirely different." He winked at Daisy, walking over towards the couch. 

Satisfied, she watched, standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room as she sipped her coffee. Even in the early morning, Salvatore was agile, and the fact that he’d only had a couple of sips from his morning coffee proved that either he cared, or simply, he just wanted her to shut the hell up. 

Either way was fine with Daisy so long as she was able to revel in the scene before her. After all, it wasn’t every day she was able to witness something so… entertaining. 

"Do I owe you an apology? Or should I scold you and blame you for all of my mishaps this morning?" She questioned as he hammered the final nail into her old easel. "I mean, of course you came to my rescue, but wasn’t it you that put the milk in a strange place?"

She was smiling at him then, her eyes crinkling in the corners due to how wide it spread across her face.

"No apology and no thank you needed. Anything that gets you painting again is thanks enough... as long as you hang some of your work in here." He grinned, standing up and replacing his tools back in the shed. "You should be able to put weight on it in about an hour, after the glue has a chance to dry." He moved over to his cup of coffee and picked it up, draining most of the cold liquid in one gulp, before heading to the kitchen for a refill. 

With her hands on her hips and her chin tilted up defiantly, the blonde poked Sal in the chest, returning her hands to her hips hastily as she found herself wanting to do a little more prodding.

“For your information, this is my old easel that was squabbled away in the closet of your spare room. I should thank you for not throwing it away, however, right now it seems to want nothing more than to mock me, which leads me to believe you should have rid yourself of it a while ago.”

Turning her nose up at Sal, Daisy turned, opening the top of the ice chest once more to peer inside.

"You're beautiful when you're frustrated." It wasn't something he should've let slip, but he couldn't help himself, his brain was still fuzzy with sleep, which meant his filter wasn't up yet. 

"Anyway... lets take a look at this easel..." He turned, picking up his coffee and heading into the living room. The easel wasn't in bad shape. A bit of glue and a few patches here and there and i'd be good as new. Sal didn't even bother putting clothes on, instead heading over to his cabinet in the living room. After fumbling for a good five minutes he pulled out a small can of glue, a hammer, some nails and little thin wooden splints. 

Daisy Stared at the easel, her frown deepening as she attempted to hoist the contraption in to place, but it was no use. The sharp edge that poked out from the right leg of it was a signal that it was done for, or at the very least needed to be repaired. With a sigh, she attempted to close the thing up, growling at it as the wood decided to no longer budge with her force.

“What the hell did I ever do to you?” She hissed, pushing on the easel a little harder than before. “I know I may have shunned you, but that doesn’t mean you can treat me like this… defy me like this!”

“UGH!”

With a rude gesture, the blonde stomped toward the kitchen, pushing her glasses up her nose as she headed toward the coffee press. It was times like these that made her wonder why she’d even attempted to get up in the first place. She loved creativity and loathed it all the same. It was hard coming up with a concept, but when even her utensils weren’t willing to cooperate, getting something down on canvas seemed down right impossible.

“Milk… Oh, c’mon… I know we have milk!” Daisy whined, Sal’s tattered cut offs sliding down her hips as she stomped, closing the lid of the ice chest.

“Bottom right corner.” He mumbled, moving into the kitchen, taking Daisy with him. “Why are you up so early?” Sal gave her the once over, noticing the woman donned all of his clothes. “Let me guess… you even have my underwear in there too?” He hooked a finger into the top of the ripped shorts she was wearing, smiling as he felt the hem of his boxer briefs.

"I’m not sure actually, I haven’t had a chance to go through the basket of goodies, I have heard that the pastries at Southern Charm rival and surpass those of the Nine Owls though. Why don’t you go test them for me? Make sure VanHooven hasn’t tried to poison me with his charms."

Sal took a large bite of the dough pastry and smiled. "Well I'm not dead yet.... and it tastes lovely, so dig in Miss Miller." 

"Mr. Perri, nice to see you home so soon." The blonde stated, her voice chirpy as she leaned against the door frame."Mind telling me why Sidney Van Hooven of the Montford Country Club felt the need to send me a rather luxurious care package mere hours after my incident at his establishment?" 

Her lips were pursed now, her arms crossed as she stared the man down. Yes, the masses of Montford found Salvatore Perri slightly intimidating, if not downright frightening, but not Daisy. She knew the man better than she knew herself. Which was why she wasn’t budging on the matter until the Italian told her everything she wanted to know.

He coughed as her hand collided with his midsection. “Fine… fine… just don’t tell anyone I cracked under pressure. I’d never be able to pull off what I did today if people knew my weakness was a certain Daisy Miller…” He placed the paper on the coffee table and turned to her.

The blonde closed her eyes, her glass of wine already drained as she soaked in the tub. Just as she began to drift into sleep, the doorbell rang startling the drenched, naked woman. Grumbling, daisy moved from the tub, quickly wrapping herself in her robe before peering through the peephole. She frowned as she watched the lanky boy shifting in his spot in front of the door, the massive arrangement of flowers in his hand wobbling while the basket in the other swung back and forth.

She cracked the door,  just enough to gruffly ask the boy what he was there for. The features on her face pinched as she hurried him along.

“Ms Miller? If you could just sign right here stating that I brought your gifts to you on time, I’d be grateful.”

She huffed, signing the paper quickly before pushing the clipboard back at the boy. He handed her the items with little hesitation before scurrying off back to the florist shop.

Shutting the door and locking it, Daisy placed the basket and the massive bouquet on the kitchen counter, plucking the small card out from the middle of the spray of roses.

Dear Ms. Miller,

It is a severe regret of mine that we did not resolve the situation at the country club as it should have been handled. It came to my knowledge just this afternoon that you had been treated unfairly at our establishment, and I do not take kindly to it. You are a warranted, and welcome member of our club, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Please, accept these flowers and this basket of treats from Southern Charm as a token of my sincerest apologies. Also know that I personally will be replacing the tires on your vehicle and will have it back in your possession before the end of the day. I have also taken the liberty of upgrading your membership here at the club to elite status. You will now have free access to all spa facilities and extra curriculars. This will extend through the next year as well.

Again, I can’t convey my apologies enough through this small letter.

Here’s wishing you the best,

But it was Daisy he loved, it was Daisy he’d spend the rest of his life with even as just a friend. As long as it meant she’d be safe.

He finally arrived home after circling the block a few times thinking about her and how he was utterly screwed when it came to Ms. Miller but how, in all honesty, he didn’t fucking care.

"I couldn’t tell you." She huffed, wiping the backs of her hands over her mascara ridden face. "All I know, is that I went to the country club for a game of tennis, and I left without having played since I’ve been blacklisted, my membership had been revoked, and someone thought it would be a bright idea to stab each of my tires so I couldn’t leave with my dignity."

She growled, kicking her shoes off of her aching feet, her hair plastered to her face as she attempted to look at the man in front of her. All pride was lost for Daisy. She’d been made a mockery of in front of everyone she’d ever called a friend, and it was her own doing.

There he drew a bath for her and poured a glass of wine, a record softly playing on the gramophone. "You enjoy yourself... I have a quick errand to run and when I get back I'll cook us dinner. On me tonight... okay?" Sal placed a kiss to her forehead, one hand cupping her cheek lightly, before he turned and headed out of the apartment, giving Daisy space to unwind. 

It was only a fifteen minute drive to the country club and the Italian made his way straight back to Sidney's office, not even stopping when the receptionist yelled at him. 

"Mr... Mr. Perri... I wasn't expecting a visit from any Capones... I don't think. I've paid my fees this month." Salvatore laughed, closing the man's office door behind him.

"Oh no, Sid. I'm not here to collect, perse." He pulled his revolver out of it's holster, spinning the chamber and locking it in place. "We have another matter to attend to... one a bit more personal." Sal strolled over to the now shaking man still sitting in his office chair.  "Sal... Salvatore... I have no idea what you're on about... I promise I would never do anything to anger the family." Sweat was already beginning to trickle down his now pail face. 

"Is that so?" Sal walked around the back of Sidney's chair. "I beg to differ, Mr. VanHooven... you see, you've hurt a member of our family. Someone who is both close to myself and like a sister to Frankie Capone." Sal now stood in front of the quivering man, using on hand to lean the office chair back as far as it would go while the other hand held the gun to the man's chin. 

"You denied one Miss Daisy Miller entrance into your establishment today. On grounds of rumors that you don't even know are true.... You also allowed her tires to be slashed without incident.... that's a problem for me and my family." Sal clicked the safety off. 

"So the way I see it... you have two choices, you can either continue to act like the idiot you were today and shun a woman whose done nothing wrong... or you can apologize like the gentleman I know you are and make your wrongs right." He dug the metal into Sidney's skin, so hard he could feel the pushback as the man swallowed hard. 

"So Sid... what's if going to be? Will you do the right thing or do I have to show you how the Capone family treats Village idiots?" The man shook his head. 

"No...n-n-no... I'm sorry Mr. Perri. I will correct the error. I promise I did not know Miss Miller was part of the family. I will ensure she receives the best treatment from here on out." 

"See... I don't think you quite understand. You won't be doing this because she happens to know the right people. You will be doing this because you're a gentleman who is smart enough not to act on gossip and idle chats in some spa. Daisy Miller is a wonderful, intelligent amazing woman and she's done nothing wrong. Events were out of her control and she's never once lifted a finger to hurt a soul. So Mr. VanHooven, you won't be doing this because I hold your life at the tip of my pointer finger, you'll be doing this because it's the right and proper thing to do. It will be something you can proudly tell your kids about one day, about how you stood up to a woman whose name was being dragged through the mud by the cruel people of Montford. How you, Mr. Sidney VanHooven, showed bravery and intelligence to rise above the rest of the scum and take a higher road.... do I make myself clear?" 

Daisy’s feet ached, her heels worn as she hurried toward the other side of the street. The country club used to be the place she could call her sanctuary, but that didn’t seem to be the case any more. Not when they slashed her tires and call her the devil incarnate. 

Tears streamed down her face as she forced her way up the sidewalk, doing her best to calculate the time back to Sal’s place. She would have called it home, but Daisy wasn’t as dense as she looked. In due time she would be gone from there as well, leaving her with just herself and the lack of reputation she held in Montford. 

What the hell was she still doing here anyway? She was hated, spit at, torn down on a daily basis anymore, and she’d begun to wonder if this truly was all her fault. If the massacre in Montford had been her doing, and if all that blood was really on her hands. 

He was turning the corner of his street, not even paying attention to his surrounds when he collided with a crying Daisy. His arms instinctively wrapped around the woman to keep her from falling. "Hey... Dase... I think you're headed in the wrong direction, the flat's back that way." 

Daisy took his hand, meekly stating her name for Sal as she wiped tears from her cheeks with the back of her other palm. Where did they go from here? How fresh were they truly starting?

"I could eat something..." He moved over to his cabinets, pulling out the ingredients for mac & cheese. It was simple, but so where they... in a way. He started cooking and they started talking. Step by step, one foot after another. It'd be slow going at first, but Salvatore was sure they'd get through it, they always did. 

She was lonely. There was no doubt about that, and although it took the small blonde time to understand her predicament, she still wasn’t willing to admit it out loud. Even though now it seemed she didn’t have a choice.

“I was a cruel woman, Sal. You and I both know that. What makes you think that I’m any different now? I couldn’t tell you if I’ve changed or not. My whole being seems to defy my true feelings anymore and I can’t decipher what’s real from fantasy. You really want to be friends with someone like that?  Someone who left you to pick up the pieces? Someone who even had the gall to ask you for help picking up her own disaster of a life?”

She was angry. But by no means at Sal. Tears welled in her eyes as they always seemed to these days. She was furious with herself. Angry that she’d let it get this far. Her greed and ambition leading to nothing but grief and heartache.

He thought about her words. The fact that she admitted she'd been cruel. It was, at the time. Hell, at the time the last thing Sal wanted was Daisy sleeping in the room next to him. But that was then and this is now and Salvatore had moved on as much as possible and was now at a place where he wanted Daisy in his life in whatever capacity she could exist in. 

"The past is behind us. History. What matters is that we're here now and we both love each other and I don't believe for a second that you are a cruel woman Daisy Miller. I've seen that big heart of yours. And yes, I want it and you in my life. Whatever you're going through, we can go through it together, just don't shut me out. Okay." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling the blonde against him, a soft kiss placed upon her forehead. 

He held her like that for a moment. Reveling in the way she felt... the way she fit right there pushed up against his chest. When he knew the hug had lasted too long to be considered friendly, he pulled back, releasing her and stretching out his hand. 

I miss us…

The phrase repeated itself in her head, the words reminiscent of a dime hitting the floor of a cathedral. The sound echoing off of the stained glass walls of her mind. 

Daisy put her coffee mug down with a thud on the counter, the double entendre of his statement leaving a sickeningly sweet taste in the back of her throat. She couldn’t fault Sal for being an honest man, nor could she fault him from refusing her advances, but that didn’t stop the giant knot of regret from making it’s presence known in her belly as she turned to face him for the first time in weeks. 

"You shouldn’t say those words to me." She huffed, knowing that what she meant, and what Sal’s words were intended to convey were two different things. But he knew her well enough to understand. He knew her well enough to know when she was far too embarrassed to elaborate.

Shouldn't say those words, just like she shouldn't tell him she wanted him, just like she shouldn't have come onto him. Their relationship always seemed filled with all of these shoulds and coulds. Why couldn't they just be. Just Sal and Daisy, Two people who loved each other.