Toecutter

What if Toecutter had a softer side that he kept hidden from the bikies?

This story takes place right before the Night Rider got run off the road by Max.

The door to a small shanty house swung open followed by the sounds of loud footsteps. Daisy was sitting at a big wooden table, sewing up holes in an old pair of leather pants. An empty bottle of Southern Comfort rolled at her feet. She looked up from her work to greet her "old man", who was known to his biker gang and the bronze as "the Toecutter".

"So you've come back, eh Joe?" she wasn't smiling. She had the air of someone who had been waiting for too long. She pointed to a large Golden Retriever napping at her feet. "Well Goldie's missed you at least,"

"Is that right?" Joe smiled, showing perfect white teeth that seemed in contrast to the rest of his appearance, covered in dirt and grime from weeks of being on the road. "Are you sure he's the only one?"

Daisy averted his gaze and went back to her sewing, but she couldn't concentrate. She couldn't concentrate on anything for too long when Joe was around. He was never around long enough for her to get a mental hold on anything. Just when she would start getting attached and thinking maybe this time he's changed, and would finally make an honest woman of her, one of those bastard bikies would come by for him and he'd disappear again.

He came up behind her chair and she smelled motor oil mixed with his own manly scent. She missed him terribly but she'd be damned if she'd give him the satisfaction. Sure he'd set her up in this little house, even brought Goldie home one day (probably after his boys had their way with the poor creature's owner). He made sure all her needs were taken care of – just enough without totally committing.

She was always grateful for everything he gave her. When his gang ran though her town she was living with a mentally unstable man who beat the hell out of her on a regular basis. When Joe saw her at the bar, her face covered in blood and her clothes all but torn to shreds, he took it upon himself to "sort out" the man who did that to her. She didn't ask any questions, and was thankful she had someone that would look after her in the lawless Australian countryside.

She told herself she would get used to his frequent disappearing acts, the frantic phone calls from the road, cursing "the bronze" who were after him and his friends who were just "having a spot of fun". Maybe she was a fool for being in love with this man with his penchant for violence and always getting what he wanted. But he never once laid a hand on her in anger, that's why, even though he introduced himself by saying, "My dear, I'm called the Toecutter, and I'm here to rescue you," she could never call him that – because that was his "road" name – the one his partners in crime knew him as.

It wasn't until after the first night they had spent together that she had the courage to ask him his real name. At first he laughed her off and said Toecutter was his real name because that's how his people address him. "I'm not your people," she had answered shakily.

"You, and only you, may call me Joe," he whispered. And that's the moment she had fallen in love with him.

But that was – weeks? Months? Ago? Ever since the breakdown of society time and dates were secondary to just surviving. She always felt safe with Joe, even if his "family" unnerved her a bit, she trusted him when he swore no one would harm her again. Now here he was back from one of his jaunts from halfway across the continent, and as usual he didn't come empty handed. There was a sack full of brand new expensive shoes and clothing, perfume and jewelry. As usual Daisy thought better of asking where and how he acquired this. The less she knew about his nefarious doings the better off she was for her own peace of mind.

"I hope this is to your liking love," he said, emptying the sack onto the table, "I had Cundolini help with the selection, you know he's got an eye for that sort of thing,"

Daisy glanced over at the exquisitely crafted clothing and the huge gem stones on the jewelry and she put her needle and thread down and handed him the leather pants she was working on. "I've fixed your favorite leathers," she said, not turning around. If she turned around she would look into his crystal blue eyes and not be upset about the time he was gone. He did that to her every time.

"There's something in particular I've brought you that I'd rather like you to see," he said in her ear, as he reached in front of her to go through the jewelry. He pawed through emerald pendants, ruby ear-rings, gold chains until something caught his eye and he snatched it.

"Bubba reminded me what a cold unfeeling bastard I've been to you, love," he said, running his rough calloused hands on the back of her bare neck. "Turn around,"

Daisy's mind raced. With the thousands of dollars worth of jewels already splayed out on the table in front of her, what could he possibly be holding that...oh...no..it couldn't be? Despite herself she spun around.

He was smiling at her, not the same smile as when he smashed a bottle over an inn-keeper's head, this was different. This was a look that only she got to see. "I know you're cross with me," he started, "But this will be a reminder that I shall always return to you,"

She half expected him to get down on one knee – nothing seemed ridiculous anymore. He reached for her left hand and slid a chunky ring with a huge solitaire sapphire on her ring finger. Then he grinned proudly like a child who just won a spelling bee. "what do you think love?"

Daisy stared at the ring – it was a deep royal blue, flawless and reflected the sparse light in their small house. It was almost the exact same shade of blue as his eyes.

He continued, "If you want to stay cross with me I understand, but I saw this and thought you deserve something beautiful for putting up with a miscreant like myself."

She knew it wasn't easy for him to be emotional and she was cherishing every moment of it, especially since she could tell he was becoming a little uncomfortable. It was almost as if he would be happier smashing every dish in the house then letting someone know he can be a big softie. And then she smiled, a big toothy smile that made her feel like an idiot, and she felt like an idiot and started laughing. It was all so ridiculous, the world around them was going to complete hell, he was the leader of one of the most feared and violent biker gangs that side of the Australian continent, half the bronze were out to take him down, and here was proposing to her with the most perfect ring ever made.

He looked confused, almost as if he felt she was laughing at him, rather than at the situation. Sensing this, she stood up and put his arms around her waist. "I don't believe it..." was all she could manage to say.

He was still confused, she could see it in his eyes, but out loud he said, "That's sorted then. I wish I could give you more, you deserve so much more..."

He kissed her and she felt herself leaning into the kiss and wasn't angry anymore. Finally Sensing his father was home, Goldie started barking from his spot under the table and Daisy and Joe broke their embrace to laugh and he walked over to wrestle on the floor with the dog.

Watching her man and their pet playing on the floor of the small house Daisy had a brief feeling of comfort and ease which she hadn't had in some time. Her moments with Joe were always fleeting, and when he left she never knew when or if he would come back to her. Looking at the huge ring sparkling on her hand was a sign that he would always be with her even if only in spirit. The mass of jewelry lying on the table she'd sell to one of his "Friends" in town with no questions asked.

He went to take a bath and she started cooking dinner, thinking to herself that it all seemed so normal, even though the world was anything but.