MC ROMANCE: Wanted by the Alpha Biker (Motorcycle Club Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (MC Romantic Suspense Contemporary New Adult Short Stories) (50 page)

Chapter Two

The door closed behind her, and Lily took a moment to lean against it, breathing in and letting the air out on a slow sigh. It had been a long day. There were worse jobs, but working as the manager of a retail store wasn’t exactly relaxing.

"Lily!"

The shout made her startle. Reluctantly, she moved away from the door, setting her purse down on a convenient chair as she stepped into the kitchen.

"Dad," she said cautiously. "What can I help you with?"

He was leaning against the counter on one hand, swaying a little.

"Where the hell is the bottle of vodka I left in here last night?"

Lily's jaw tightened.

"I threw it out," she said evenly.

His hand slammed down on the counter with enough force to make her jump. "And just what makes you think you can do that, Lily May?"

Lily took a deep breath, tightening her jaw and pushing her shoulders back. "This is my house, Dad."

He looked at her for a long moment. "Your house. And you think that just because you pay your own bills means you can throw out things that I paid for myself?"

"You didn’t pay for that bottle. I did. And even if I hadn’t? My house, my rules." The words were an echo without an immediate source. He’d said them often enough, when she was a kid. Her father’s eyes narrowed, but Lily stood her ground despite the sick twist in her stomach.  "If you're going to drink yourself to death," she said quietly. "I don't want you doing it here."

It wasn't what she has meant to say. The last thing she wanted was him out on his own.

"You'd throw me out?" Anger softened to sloppy sorrow in his expression. "You'd throw your own father onto the street?"

Lily shook her head, then took a pleading step forward. "That's not what I meant, Dad. I'm sorry. I just... I'm worried about you. You've been so sick. The doctors say you have to give up drinking."

His worry gone, he scoffed. "The doctors say. Look, Lily. I'm going to end up dead anyway. What does it matter if I drink myself there a little early? There's no point in living a life you can't enjoy."

"But you don't enjoy it, Dad. You and I both know that."

His expression shut down, went mulish. Lily sighed. It was what she had expected. Turning away, she paused with one hand resting on the cool countertop. She could feel his eyes on her.

"What you do is your choice," she said. "And I'm not going to throw you out. But I'm not going to keep you supplied with alcohol either. And you won't yell at me in my own house."

As she walked away, she caught sight of a large black bird, sitting in the tree beyond the kitchen window, its glossy head tilted to one side so that it could watch them through one beady dark eye.

-----

When she went out to water the plants that evening, Corbin was in his own yard, sitting in a lawn chair with a book in his hand. Lily had to look away to hide her smile. He was still wearing slacks.

"Hey, Corbin," she said, hoping he couldn't hear how tired she was in her voice. She liked her next-door neighbor, even if he was a little strange. He was a nice guy. "How's it going?"

He looked up from his book and smiled at her.

"You know how it is. Same old routine. But at least the weather’s nice."

She watched him stand, setting the book down in the chair he'd just vacated, and he crossed his yard to stand at the border between their lawns, his hands tucked into his pockets. His head tipped slightly to one side as he regarded her.

"You, on the other hand, don't look like you're having such a good time," he said, the concern in his voice just the thing she had been trying to avoid.

"I've been better," Lily admitted. "Things have been rough at work lately. A lot of new kids coming in for the summer.”

He nodded. "We never have that problem, but I'm sure it doesn't make for an easy day at work."

His smile faded. Lily looked up, and his eyes arrested hers, holding her there in his gaze. It was easy to get caught there, she thought. His eyes were so dark she couldn't make out the pupil from the iris.

"Lily," he said when she was looking at him. "I know that it maybe isn't any of my business, but I know that your trouble isn't just at work."

For a moment, she wanted to tell him that he was right, wanted to confess it all to someone who would listen. But what happened within the walls of her house were her own problems, and she wasn’t going to air them in front of the neighborhood.

"You're right," she said, with no particular heat. "It isn't any of your business."

His expression tightened, but he nodded.

"Well, listen," he said as he turned back to his chair and his book. "If you ever want to talk, I’m here."

Lily turned off the water and went back inside.

Up in her room, Lily sank down onto the bed, allowing herself to drop her face into her hands and just sit for a long moment. Then she sighed, and stood. There were reports that needed to be finished before she went to bed.

She settled down at the desk in the corner of the room with her papers. When she looked up, there was the bird again, sitting in the tree outside the window that her desk overlooked, watching her. She smiled at it. She’d seen it before that morning, sitting in her yard. It felt like an old friend, really.

“We’re probably the best show you've seen all week, huh? I have to tell you, though, this is going to be a lot more boring than the fight with my dad."

There was no way the bird could hear her, but she saw it hop a little closer along the branch, head tipping the other direction. For a moment, she watched it, watched the sunset light dappling its glossy feathers through the leaves. Then she looked back down at her reports and got to work. When she looked up again, much later, it was gone.

The rest of the week went about as well as Monday had. Lily hadn't expected it to go much better. And it wasn't really a relief to come home Friday night, because she knew she'd be spending the rest of the weekend with her father, though he’d probably spend much of it out drinking.

They’d fought again on Wednesday, Lily attempting once more with pleas and coaxing to get her father to give up drinking. He’d gotten so angry she had found herself shrinking back against the counter, answering him in near-whispers while he’d called her selfish. It had ended when, of all things, the big black raven that she’d been seeing around the house tapped at the window with its beak. It pecked at the glass until her father had turned his rage from her to it, and Lily had fled upstairs.

As expected, her father was gone when she got home. Lily made herself some dinner and sat down in front of the television for a while. She used to have a glass of wine in the evenings, but she didn't anymore. Not since her father had moved in.

The knock on the door was unexpected. With a somewhat annoyed groan, Lily levered herself off the couch and went to answer it. Corbin was standing on the other side, with a tray of brownies in his hands.

"Hey," he said, grinning at her, his usually brushed-back hair loose, falling into his eyes in a way that was disarmingly attractive. "You mind if I come in a minute?"

If her father had been there, she wouldn't have allowed it, but after a moment's hesitation she stepped back to let him move in around her.

"I had a bit of free time today," he was saying as he walked into the kitchen. "Thought I'd do some baking. It's kind of experimental, so if they're terrible you don't have to eat them."

He set the tray down on the counter while Lily pulled a couple of plates out of the cabinet, and then got out a knife.

"I'm sure they'll be great," she said.

She glanced at the clock. Her father wouldn't be home for another few hours, probably.

"Would you like to have one with me?"

His grin widened.

"I would love that."

Dishing out a rather large serving of brownies onto each plate, Lily handed one over to Corbin, and gestured him to follow as she moved into the living room, dropping back down into her spot on the couch. After a moment's uncertainty, Corbin sat down beside her. She had intended for him to take the chair, but she didn't say anything about his choice of seat, just leaned back against the comfortable cushions and reached for the remote.

"I wanted to ask you something," Corbin said as the show began to play again.

Lily hit pause and turned to look at him. She didn't know if she liked the nerves in his voice.

"I have tickets for a show on Sunday night. The orchestra. And I was wondering if you might like to come. I was thinking we could get dinner beforehand. My treat."

Lily stared at him for so long that he started to fidget, looking down at his pant leg and smoothing an imaginary crease.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have—"

She cut him off.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

He looked back up, his gaze jumping from her face to some point over her shoulder, back to her face again. "Yes," he said. He sounded more nervous than she would have expected someone who looked like him to sound, asking someone who looked like her out.  She wasn't ugly, certainly, but her hair was her best feature, and the rest of her was just pretty... average.

It was a long time since she had been on a date. Lily found a smile somewhere. "You know, I would actually really like that."

Corbin's grin was back, lighting his dark eyes. "Sunday, then," he said. "I'll be looking forward to it."

Lily hit play again. She would be looking forward to it too, actually, she admitted to herself as the room filled with the sound of the television. And, she decided as she took a bite, the brownies were delicious. She made sure to tell Corbin so before she finished hers off.

Chapter Three

She hadn't meant for him to stay long, but she didn't bother to chase him out. It was comfortable having him around. The TV seemed to amuse and baffle him by turns, and his commentary kept her laughing. It was so enjoyable that Lily entirely forgot she'd meant to send him home before her dad got back.

True to form, he announced his presence loudly, the door slamming against the wall with the force of its opening, and Lily and Corbin both jumped, Lily scrambling into a more upright position and hitting the mute button. She could hear his heavy footsteps in the hall, stumbling and uneven.

“Lily!"

The word was slurred, his voice sliding on the drink, and Lily cursed under her breath.

"I'm sorry, Corbin," she said, rising. "I'll be see you on Sunday, okay?"

He stood with her, and she could see the disappointment clear in his expression, but he nodded. Her father appeared in the living room doorway, leaning against the frame in a way that suggested he was about to fall down at any moment.

"Who's this?"

"The next-door neighbor, Dad," Lily said, trying to keep her tone even. "Why don't you go up to bed? You look pretty tired.”

He shook his head. In his hand was a half-full bottle, sloshing with his motions.

"Not tired. Was going watch some TV. But since you're getting busy with the neighbor boy, guess I'll have to find something else to do."

She felt heat rise in her cheeks. “That sounds like a good idea. Maybe in your own room?”

Lily was not looking at Corbin. She didn't want to see the expression on his face. Didn't want to see him giving up on her, the way everyone else had. They'd all told her that she shouldn't let her father stay, that she was only enabling him, but she couldn't just throw him out on the street, and if he wouldn't stay in rehab, she couldn't force him to. What was she supposed to do?

Her father hadn't moved. He was still standing there, squinting at Corbin.

"Probably don't want to sit on that couch anyway now," he muttered, turning.

"I'm sorry?" Corbin didn't sound offended. He sounded confused.

"Dad!" The word came out sharp.

Her father turned to look at her, swaying with the momentum of the motion.

"Don't talk to me like that, young lady."

"May I remind you," Lily said, "that this is my house."

"And I'm your father, no matter how old you are. This is the first friend of yours I’ve seen in a while. Guess you don't like him much, do you?"

"I think, sir," Corbin said, his voice calm, but with an edge of ice that made Lily look up at him in surprise, "that you should go lie down before you say something to your daughter you'll regret."

Her father's eyebrows nearly hit his hairline.

"Are you tellin' me what to do, boy?"

Now was really not the time for this. Lily laid a hand on Corbin's shoulder as he took a step forward, and he went still under her touch, shoulders slumping.

"He doesn't know what he's saying," she said, softly enough that her father wouldn't be able to hear.

Corbin didn't look convinced, but he also didn't attempt to take another step forward. For that Lily was grateful. Her father turned away and they heard him stomping up the stairs, stumbling occasionally, and then the sound of a door slamming shut.

"I'm so sorry about that," Lily said, turning to look at him. Her cheeks were still hot with embarrassment. "I didn't realize he would be home yet or I wouldn't have kept you so long."

"You don't need to be sorry," he said quietly. "I'm sorry that you have to deal with that every night."

It was a nice thing to say. Lily tried to find a smile for him. It came up a little wobbly at its edges, but there.

"He's usually not that bad," she said. "He usually just comes home and staggers upstairs to pass out."

"You know you don't have to live like this," Corbin says. "There are places you can go, organizations that can help you care for him."

Not if he rejected everything she tried. Lily shook her head.

"I tried to send him to rehab. It didn't go well. And without a court order from a judge—which I'm not going to try to get—I can't force him to stay there. He's a grown man. I did what I could, but I don't know what to do anymore."

Corbin looked down at her as tears suddenly welled up in her eyes, and then he reached out and settled a careful hand on her shoulder. Lily leaned into it without meaning to.

"I wish sometimes that he had other places to go," she admitted. "But he doesn't, and putting him out isn't an option."

Corbin's hand tightened a little. "No. I'm not suggesting that," he assured her. "I don't think you should either. But I don't like seeing you hurt so much.”

He talked like he actually cared. Lily supposed it shouldn't have surprised her. He had always been kind to her.

"I'm handling it," she tried.

The look he gave her said that her attempt had not at all succeeded. She didn't sound like someone who was handling it, she knew. Probably didn't look like someone who was handling it, either. She hadn’t quite managed to blink back all the tears.

“You don’t have to handle it alone,” Corbin said. “Let me help you.”

A sound that might have been a sob if she’d let it escape caught in Lily’s throat. He knew already, and the prospect of having someone she could talk to, of not having to carry it all on her own, was so tempting. A moment passed. Lily nodded.

“Okay,” she said, hardly above a whisper. “I… Yeah.”

Moving slowly, giving her time to back out, he wrapped his arms around her. After a moment of hesitant indecision, Lily let herself sink into it, wrapping her arms around him in return and resting her head against his shoulder. Her arms shook, though she didn’t let herself cry. It was the safest she had felt in nearly a year.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

His arms tightened around her, and they stood there together in silence.