Shackled Lily Read online

  “That would be good; she’s been worried about you.”

  “How would you know?” I asked rudely. My father and mother hardly ever spoke.

  “Issy, your mother and I have talked every day since your accident. You should be happy. You always did want us to get along.”

  I felt rage crush my chest. “Whatever you are doing, you need to stop it,” I ordered. “She is no match for you, and you know it! Just leave her alone and let her get on with her life.”

  My father looked at me like a five year old having a temper tantrum. “Really Issy, you are being overdramatic. Your mother and I have been friends for years.”

  I got up from the chair and stormed out without a word. So that’s how he did it. He seduced her, made her believe she could trust him again. I felt the bile in my throat as I thought of my mom sitting on the phone, talking with my dad, hanging on his every word. She had never gotten over him. Eight months from now when she was no longer useful, it would end, and she would be heartbroken all over again. I wanted to hate her, but I just pitied her. Stupid woman.

  Five hours later, I was ready to go. I had washed the purple out of my hair and just let my thick raven locks lay naturally down my back. I also settled on a pair of jeans, heels, and hid my red strapless bustier top with a fitted black jacket. My father would never suspect a night out in this outfit.

  I had called my mom and somehow got through enough of her whining to tell her I had a study group tonight and wouldn’t be able to make it. My father wouldn’t be any wiser until tomorrow.

  Grant was the only one home when I went to say my goodbyes. He took one look at me and stood up. “Wow, you look amazing.”

  My stomach betrayed me again, doing somersaults as his voice penetrated my ears. “Where’s my dad?” I asked looking bored. I didn’t want to give my father any reason to call my mom looking for me.

  “He’s out with Anna tonight. Some gallery opening in town.” Grant was speaking matter-of-factly, but never once took his eyes off me. I looked around the room, annoyed, until I noticed he was right in front of me, running his fingers through my hair. “Seriously, Issy, I haven’t seen your hair this color in so long I forgot what it looked like.”

  I took his hand off my head, but he held on to it, and wrapped his other hand around my back, trapping me next to him. I started to feel lightheaded as his breath neared my ear. “Tell me you don’t feel it,” he whispered, sending waves of adrenaline down my body.

  He pulled back enough to look me in my eyes which I knew for certain were clouded over with desire. “It doesn’t matter, it’s never going to happen,” I answered softly, while my body language said something completely different.

  He put his forehead to mine and let out a heavy sigh. “You haunt me, Issy. Your eyes, your smile, the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention, that perfect day…it all haunts me. Just tell me you don’t feel it, please, so I can finally let you go.” His voice felt desperate and so full of pain that I couldn’t be mean to him, even though I knew I needed to be.

  I reached up to touch his soft cheek. “I’m never going to be what you need or deserve. I’m unfixable, Grant, even by you.”

  “I don’t want to fix you, Issy. I just want to complete you…the way you complete me.”

  I felt the tears spring to my eyes and knew I had to get out of there, fast. His words were too perfect, too enticing. I wanted things with him that defied every promise I ever made to myself. But my body denied my request to flee and instead leaned up to kiss him unashamedly.

  He responded, but not with the passionate fury that he had last time. This time it was pure intimacy, so soft and deliberate that my knees went weak. He took his time as if he was memorizing every contour of my mouth, and I let him, even though I felt the walls around my frozen heart crack a little.

  When we finally parted, his eyes were all I could see, and I knew they reflected the same level of love that mine did. I wasn’t even attempting to hide it this time.

  “Stay here with me,” he begged as he caressed my cheek, and I wanted to. I wanted to so badly that my feet felt frozen to the floor. But one night would turn into two and before we knew it, I would hurt him or he would hurt me. It was inevitable. Love was for the weak hearted, like my mother, not for me.

  I found my composure and stiffened under his touch. He let go of me almost immediately and shook his head. “You’re not even out the door yet, and you’re already running,” he accused, his caramel eyes darkening with frustration. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Of course you’re not,” I said curtly. “Tell my dad to call if he needs anything.” I turned and fled to my car. He didn’t come after me or even text me this time. He just let me go and part of me wished he hadn’t—the part I had every intention of re-burying the minute I got to this party.

  The party was all it had been promised to be, and the mass of people made me even more grateful I had parked at Candace’s house and rode with her and Reggie. They had freshman carding us at the door. I found the most nervous one and seductively placed my hand on his chest, leaning in to him.

  “You wouldn’t want to scar this soft hand with that red stamp, would you?” I purred as I watched him take a big gulp. “I don’t have a wristband, so no one will serve me anyway.”

  He nodded shyly, letting me go through without the dreaded “under 21” stamp. I kept his eyes locked with mine until I had tucked one of the wristbands into my pocket. I rolled my eyes as I put on the band of freedom. This was getting almost too easy.

  I waved at Candace who was already on the dance floor and pointed to the bar, before heading in that direction.

  “What can I get for you,” the bartender asked while I was digging in my small purse for some cash.

  “Long Island Iced Tea,” I ordered without looking up. When I finally did, I looked right into the ice blue eyes of my stalker from class who was grinning with pleasure.

  “Do you believe in fate, green eyes?” he asked as he leaned his forearms on the bar.

  I matched his stance, bringing our faces close together. “If I say yes, is this one on the house?”

  “Baby, you say yes, and everything you want is on the house.”

  I leaned in a little closer before I popped the twenty-dollar bill right between our faces.

  He snatched it out of my hand and raised his pierced eyebrow. “Tease,” he said with a grin and started making my drink. Before handing me back my change and my drink, he looked sternly at me. “Don’t take a drink from any of these guys here, you hear me? Only me, you got it?”

  I nodded at his unspoken warning, thinking maybe he wasn’t as bad as I originally thought, and headed to the dance floor to join Candace. Reggie was sitting at a table looking as bored as he usually did, and I smiled thinking Candace must have had to drag him to this thing. She already had a glimmer of perspiration on her face when I joined her. In minutes, I had finished my drink and just let the music take me. I had been a dancer at one point, even had a few trophies to show for it, but it all stopped when my heart went dead. On the dance floor, though, I started to feel a little alive. The extra shot my bartender had slipped in my drink wasn’t hurting things either.

  Several songs later, Candace grabbed my hand saying she needed a break. We giggled as we maneuvered through the crowd to Reggie’s table. Rusty must have joined him at some point because he stood when we approached and gave me a shy, “hi.”

  I noticed him concentrating very hard on keeping eye contact with me while avoiding looking at the cleavage I knew my bustier created. Candace fell down exhausted on the chair next to Reggie and I excused myself for a moment, not really offering where I was off to. I headed straight to my dark haired bartender, who had my refill waiting for me when I approached.

  “What’s your name?” I asked loudly when he waved off my cash.

  “Jason,” he yelled back over the music. “Yours?”

  I answered with a smile and a wink, leaving h
im to chuckle and shake his head. I found my way back to the table where Rusty stood up again when I approached. There was such a thing as being too nice, I decided.

  We sat around getting to know each other as I sipped on my drink. Everyone else at the table had water or a coke, and I started to feel grateful I picked a drink that could be concealed. I watched all of them as we chatted. I had never had sober friends before and was surprised how much fun they were having just hanging out and dancing.

  Rusty was especially funny and Candace was right about how the girls reacted to him. I lost count of how many came up to our table with the sole purpose of flirting with him. He was always nice to them, but would ease away when they would drape an arm over him or try and sit in his lap. I also noticed he never stood for any of them, a fact that both intrigued and concerned me a little.

  “You’ve got quite a fan club,” I teased after he brushed another girl off of him.

  “Sorry about that. It seems the longer I stay single, the more determined they are to get my attention. It’s gotten a little out of hand,” he explained apologetically.

  “So what’s driving you to remain solo?” I was curious because he seemed more like the type to be serially monogamous.

  “Just haven’t met the right girl yet,” he admitted.

  “Really? Cause it seems you make that assessment pretty quickly.”

  He smiled at me, warm and genuine, and shrugged. “Maybe. But most of these girls here I’ve known for a while. Ever heard of football groupies?”

  I laughed and nodded in understanding. He laughed too, exposing his dimples which made him even more handsome, if that was possible.

  “I like your hair, by the way,” he said nonchalantly. “Not that I didn’t like the purple, or anything.”

  “Thanks,” I answered with a grin. “You’ll probably see me sporting a whole lot more colors before the end of the semester. I never stick to any one thing very long.” I was hoping he’d get the hint and realize that we were a less than suitable match, but as the night went on, I could tell his interest wasn’t waning.

  I finished my second drink, and while I was definitely feeling buzzed, I wanted more. I zigzagged back to Jason who once again had my drink ready for me. Before he handed it off, though, he leaned in to whisper in my ear. “That guy’s got two point four kids and a white picket fence written all over him.”

  “Are you spying on me?”

  “Call it observing,” he answered with a grin before locking his eyes with mine. They were stunning eyes, so light blue that they almost looked silver. I prayed for butterflies, anything that would make me forget Grant, but there was nothing…as usual. “He doesn’t seem much like your type.”

  “You don’t know my type,” I replied flatly as I reached for my glass. “In fact, you don’t know me at all.”

  “A fact I’d like to remedy,” he continued, refusing to let go of my drink, all while keeping my eyes captive. “Maybe we could start with a name?”

  I shrugged and shot him my most playful smile which successfully convinced him to finally let me have the glass we were both holding. “Issy,” I yelled over my shoulder as I walked away. I watched him grab his heart like he was having an attack and fall backwards. I laughed all the way back to the table and asked Candace if she was ready to hit the dance floor again. Thankfully, she was, because all I could see now when I looked at Rusty was a white picket fence which was starting to look very much like a prison.

  Reggie ended our evening at one, declaring we had class in the morning. This was probably a good thing because I was completely drunk by that time. Jason had kept me refilled all night, and Rusty’s constant attention had kept me drinking. I used all the available concentration I could to walk in a straight line out to the car, accepting Rusty’s arm when he offered it. I cringed internally when I saw him smile and wondered why of all the women around him that he would choose me. Thankfully, he didn’t try and kiss me. I would have to be very careful how I played this one. Reggie and Candace were too valuable to lose because I blew off their friend.

  We were halfway back to Candace’s house before they finally realized that I had been drinking. The world was going dark as I got comfortable in the back seat, laying my head down on the soft upholstery. I felt my stomach turn a little, but willed it back vowing I would not get sick in their car.

  “Regg, I think Issy’s drunk.” I heard Candace say in a hushed tone.

  “What?” he asked annoyed, and I heard his chair shift as if he was turning to look at me. “I knew I should have steered clear that first class, but no, I just had to butt in.”

  “Reggie, remember what Harry is always telling us. God puts people in our lives for a reason. I think there’s a lot more demons in her than we realize. We are probably exactly what she needs right now. I wonder if she’s ever even been around Christians before.”

  I heard Reggie sigh and tell Candace he loved her. Now I definitely knew I was going to get sick.

  “Issy?” I heard Candace say as we pulled into a driveway. “I’m going to get your car and take you home. I need your address and your keys.”

  I handed her my purse and slurred the address to her before shutting my eyes for the final time. I didn’t want to hear them talking about me like I was some pet project. I had been around Christians before. Parker was always talking about God to both Avery and me. And like him, they could try to save someone else. I had no interest in it.

  Seconds later, I awoke to a door opening and Reggie’s voice apologizing and explaining he had no idea I was drinking. Grant’s honey sweet voice assured him I was a master at this type of thing and not to feel guilty at all. Ugh, they all needed to stop talking about me!

  “Come here, Issy,” Grant said sweetly as he pulled me out of the car. I did my best to move, but was of little help. Next thing I knew, I was weightless and held tight against Grant’s strong chest. I heard him shut the front door softly and adjust my weight in his arms.

  “Don’t you get tired of this?” I slurred, louder than I intended.

  “Hush Issy, you’ll wake your father and he does not need to see you in this condition,” Grant said sharply as we approached the stairs. I dramatically slapped my hand over my mouth and giggled, garnering another dirty look from him.

  He managed to get me to my room without a scene and shut my door before laying me down on the bed. I felt the covers pull back and my shoes come off before my head rested on my soft pillow.

  “Grant?” I said quietly, grabbing his hand as he was about to leave. He came back to me, kneeling close to the bed and touching my face with his soft caress. “I’m haunted too,” I admitted before closing my eyes.

  “I know, baby. I know. I’ll wait for you. No matter how long it takes.” He kissed my forehead and turned off my light, leaving me to the first dreamless night I’d had in over a week.

  The morning light in my room was blinding even despite my dark walls. Grant had failed to pull the curtains shut last night, a gesture I’m sure was intentional. I turned my head over on my pillow and ran my hand along the floor, searching for my purse. I couldn’t find it and opened one eye to spot it on my nightstand. I pulled it under the covers with me, the darkness finally allowing me to open my eyes fully. I closed them again as soon as my phone lit up and slowly texted Rosa to bring me up a green smoothie. The pain in my head was excruciating, worse than anything I’d ever remembered. My stomach turned, and I shot out of bed to the bathroom where I released the rest of the alcohol that had been sitting in my stomach. I hated it when I threw up, and rarely ever did. I felt a little better when I stood up, but the room was still spinning a little. Was I still drunk? Great, that should make conversation with my dad very interesting this morning.

  I turned on the shower and stepped in thinking it would make me feel better. It did at first, but then the heat of the water and the steam started turning my stomach again, and before I knew it, I was releasing more alcohol down the drain. I sat on the tile floor, ju
st letting the water stream over my body and tried to stop shaking. What was wrong with me? I never reacted like this to alcohol. Had New Year’s changed my body that much?

  I heard a knock at the door and assumed it was Rosa. “Come in,” I yelled as loud as I could manage without bursting my ears. The glass door was foggy from the steam, but I could still see that it wasn’t Rosa who came in carrying my drink…it was Grant.

  I pulled my knees up to my chest, attempting to cover the important things and yelled, “Grant, what are you doing? Get out.” My voice was not nearly as stern or loud as I intended. In fact, the faint rasp sounded pretty pathetic.

  He set the drink down on the vanity and then folded his arms. “You have five minutes to get out and then we are going to talk about last night. At minute six, I’m coming in and will pull you out myself.” His voice was not honey sweet this morning. It was demanding and direct, so much like my father that I wanted to throw my shampoo bottle at him.

  “Your time starts now,” he stated before walking back through the door.

  Since I didn’t feel like giving Grant a peep show, I turned off the water and put on my robe. I didn’t bother brushing through the rat’s nest that was now my hair and just sat on my vanity chair sipping my drink. It would be a cold day in hell before I took orders from Grant. If he wanted to talk to me, he could come get me, just like he threatened.

  I stared at him defiantly when I saw my bathroom door burst open. He didn’t say a word, just picked me up and carried me to the sitting area in my room. I felt myself being tossed into one of the chairs and almost spilled the drink I was carrying. I started to yell at him, but stopped because I could tell that was what he wanted, to invoke some kind of emotion from me. Instead, I just sat there, coolly drinking my smoothie with a stone cold look on my face.

  “You are the most exasperating woman I’ve ever known,” he accused running his hand through his light brown hair while pacing in front of me. I didn’t respond, and Grant finally sat down next to me so his eyes could look closely at mine.