Bad Girl. - E Z (reading well .TXT) 📗

- as usual.

The sensation of Libia's warm hand rubbing up and down on his back was like ice cold water on a flame. His anger, and hostility toward his parents was shoved away, and his body relaxed under her touch. He found the slightly smug smile that she let slip quite adorable.

"How...nice." Lisbon cleared her throat. "We would love to get to know you...Libia. Please come to our house one night this weekend for dinner, shall we say...Saturday?"

It looked as if she'd sucked a lemon and sounded as if she'd choked on the juice. Again, Libia looked up at Damon for his opinion on all of this. Damon, meeting his favorite pair of chocolate brown eyes, sighed, but nodded.

"Of course, Mrs. Slain," She said in a quiet voice, turning her eyes back to his mother. "I would love to."

"Good!" She said with more enthusiasm than necessary. "Then Damon, if you would come along, we'd like to...discuss some things with you."

Namely, someone. Libia thought to herself.

"I'm sorry, I can't. I have to take Libia home." Damon said, wanting to scoff at their inconsiderate attitudes.

Damon could see his father grit his teeth. "Fine," He spoke up. "Then we'll speak when you get home. Goodbye, Libia."

And without another word, he dragged his fuming wife away.

As soon as they were out of site, Libia turned her gaze to Damon, who was rigid again. Carefully, she brought her hand up to his face, turning him to look at her. "Damon...?" She asked, her voice small, hesitant.

He met her troubled brown eyes, and his heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. He didn't want her to meet those people. He wanted her to meet his brother, and his sister, who'd already come to adore the girl without having to meet her. He wanted her to see the good part, before she saw the bad.

He helplessly stared into his favorite pair of eyes, and muttered, "That was also part of the reason I left."

Libia's eyes softened, and her other hand found its way to his cheek. "it'll be alright," She promised.

He gave her a dubious look. "You don't know them as well as I do."

"Maybe not," Libia allowed, "But I know you. And if I can deal with you, I can deal with anyone," She teased.

"Yeah...hey!" He narrowed his eyes at her, indignant.

She laughed, pushing away from him. "Alright, take me home, before I get you in more trouble than I'm worth."

He watched her leave the room, sighing. "Come on!" She called behind her back.

***

"Do I have to?" Damon whined, following behind her as she dug for her keys.

"Yes!" Libia laughed. "Your parents will hate me even more if I keep them waiting!"

He caught her around the waist as they reached the porch step. "Libia," He whined in her ear, "I care more about you than my parent's anger."

Libia rolled her eyes, hiding the fact that her heart was racing and flattery warmed her cheeks.

"Well I care more about your well being than I do myself," She told him, turning around in his arms, and playfully pushing his chest. "Now go."

He put on an exaggerated frown, causing Libia to laugh, before he leaned down to press his lips to hers. "Goodnight, Libia."

"Mmm," She murmured against his lips, "It's only two in the afternoon."

Rolling his eyes, he stepped back, shot her an award winning grin, and bowed from the waist with a flourish, "Then good afternoon...Babe."

Libia laughed. "Whatever. Go home, you can't stall anymore!"

He sighed, but nodded. "I suppose you're right. Bye, Babe." He said to her, letting another grin flash across his face.

"Bye Damon." She murmured.

She backed up until her ankle hit the step, a goofy smile on her face as she watched Damon get into his car. He drove off, and Libia took a deep breath, spinning around and skipping up to her door. She put her key into the lock, but was surprised to find the door unlocked. She looked around, but found no car in the driveway. Suddenly, the door was pulled from her hands, and swung open, her keys jingling in the knob. She swung her eyes from the door, to the familiar face of her father, and her cheeks burned as she recognized the protective-father look on his face.

"Who was that?" Were the first words out of his mouth.

"What are you doing here?" She asked in return.

"I came to...see about something," He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Okay...how did you get here? I didn't see a car."

"I was dropped off. Where is your mother?"

Libia felt a pang of annoyance as she glared at her father. "Well if you'd answer your phone you'd know that she's in the hospital with my brother, sick with a virus."

Worry flashed in his eyes, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "When did you call me?"

She sighed, pushing past him. "for two nights about ten times each."

"Well you should have called my home phone!" He said, and Libia turned around to find anger on his face.

"You're really going to blame me for this? excuse me, I've been caring for my sick mother and brother in the hospital every night. And as I recall, you didn't want to give me your home phone number because you thought it would be awkward if your wife picked up instead of you," Libia snapped.

"Don't you talk to me like that, young lady, I am not at fault here either-!"

"Than what are you, huh? Are you the innocent victim here? I'm sure you've been so busy with your new wife and your baby that you've forgotten all about us!"

"I'm trying to include you in my life!" He shouted, "But you keep turning me away!"

Libia grabbed her head with both hands in frustration, and then dropped them, looking at her father straight in the eyes. "I understand that you're trying dad, but you have to understand...you lost all of our trust when you betrayed mom's."

He ran a hand down his face, and sighed heavily. "I know I did...I know I did. I'm just...trying to make it right."

Libia sighed. "What are you here for, anyway?

Again, he rubbed the back of his neck, "The one that uh...dropped me off..." He sighed, wincing as he muttered the next words,

"Was your step mother."

Chapter Fourteen.

 

Ben settled into his seat, looking as if he hadn't slept in days, and in all reality, he'd slept very little. He was still a little weak, as he recovered from his illness, but he was well enough that they sent him home with a bottle of benedrill and an order to sleep.

He didn't look like he'd have much of a problem following those orders.

Libia had been fuming for the past day and a half. Having had a very firm - albeit angry - discussion with her father, and having him storm out, she wasn't in the best of moods. She was tired, and the only thing that helped her through the week was Damon's text. It wasn't anything special, really, just a simple:

Hope you're getting a lot of rest and relaxation, Babe. 

But it was just the reminder of his confession to her in the hospital, that made a smile grace her lips.

They drove in silence for the first half of the trip, and Libia was under the impression that he'd fallen asleep. The car began to heat up, so Libia used the red light as a chance to shrug off her jacket.

She'd almost forgotten about the tattoo that graced her shoulder, so when a gasp filled the car, Libia glanced at Ben with a raised eyebrow.

"What...is that?" He asked her, horrified, staring at her back.

Libia stared at him for a moment in confusion, before it hit her, and her hand flew to her shoulder. She spluttered, "Well...it's a...well sort of a-,"

"A tattoo," He finished, his eyes lifting to hers. "It's a damn tattoo."

Laughing weakly, Libia shrugged. "It's a...tattoo."

"Where and when did you get it?" He asked, his voice calm. Libia had never seen him like this.

"Ah...I-I got it...a few weeks ago," She winced, turning her eyes to the road and using the excuse not to look at him as she drove forward.

"You got it...with Damon?" He asked her, and she grimaced.

"Yes," She squeaked.

He was silent for a moment, before his hand slammed down on the dashboard, causing her to jump, and the car swerved a bit. "Goddammit I knew he was bad news the minute I saw you get off that motorcycle!" He snapped. I opened my mouth to protest, but he kept on. "What else have you done with him? Hmm? Have you done drugs? Did he let you drive his motorcycle? Have you slept with him?"

Libia's mouth dropped open, and the car jolted to a stop. "Excuse me!" She exclaimed, turning to him. "One, I got a tattoo, not a criminal record! Two, Damon has been nothing but sweet to me! Three, drugs? Are you kidding me Ben? And four, Fucking slept with him? Before I met him, I couldn't even meet people's eyes and you accuse me of fucking sleeping with him?" Her voice raised with each sentence, as her face reddened with each stupid accusation.

"You are not going to see him again. This behavior is only going to get worse!" He growled.

"What behavior?!" She yelled, past furious now. "Being happy? Is that really so bad? I'm free, Ben! Do you know how long I've wanted this tattoo? Can't you see-"

"I won't say it again, Libia! The next time I see him, he's getting nothing but a decked face from me!" He shouted back.

Libia was furious, hands holding the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. She knew how weak and tired her brother was, but for him to lash out like that over a stupid tattoo was beyond over protective. She tried to lower her voice back to normal volume.

"I'm sorry I got the tattoo without your permission," She ended up whispering. "But it wasn't Damon's decision. He gave me the choice - no, the chance. And I took it," She looked up at him. "It wasn't inspired or influenced by him, he was just the one person who openly encouraged me to do it."

Libia was brought back to the meaning of her tattoo - courage, freedom. This was the reminder that she had to stand up for myself. She wasn't going to live under the protection of her family forever. She didn't need them to protect her anymore. She had courage.

Ben wasn't seeing reason, however, as he fumed by her side. They didn't speak for the rest of the ride. When they arrived home, they silently walked the pathway to the door, Libia too tired and stressed to deal with his obvious anger. 

She turned to him as he sat down his bag in the kitchen, her eyes hard on his back. 

"I didn't ask you because it's not your decision. I'm sorry you don't approve, but build a bridge and get over it, because I like this tattoo!" With that, she clenched her keys in her hand and turned to the door, muttering, "I'm going to the store to get some things."

She was tired, but they needed a few goceries for when their mother returned home, and Libia had to cook dinner. Plus she didn't want to be in the house while Ben built his bridge