Bad Girl. by E Z (classic novels to read .TXT) 📕

Neil snorted quietly. "Yeah. God knows not a single bone in your body is innocent."

Damon glowered at his friend from the rear view mirror. "Just shut up and drive."

Neil laughed, but did as he was told.

When they arrived at the house, Damon noticed that all the lights were on. In the curtains, he could he a silhouette pacing.

"Uh-oh. You said you couldn't get ahold of them, right?" Neil asked him.

Damon shook his head. "Nope," He sighed, "I just hope her brother doesn't jump me before I can get an explanation out."

With that said, Damon shook Libia gently. "Hey, we're here, Babe."

"Hmm?" Libia came awake, groggily looking around. She sat confused for a moment, before she met Damon's eyes. "Oh. Already?" She mumbled, glancing tiredly out the window.

Damon, despite himself, let out a soft laugh. "Yeah. Already."

"Okay," She whispered, letting Damon open the door and help her out.

She swayed slightly, too tired to hold herself upright. Damon caught her, and chuckled softly as he stopped by Neil's window. Neil unrolled it, peering out at him. "You can go ahead and drop Dennis off. I'll call my brother to pick me up," He told him.

Nodding, Neil waited for them to get around the car and on the sidewalk, before he pulled out and drove off. "Ben isn't going to be happy," Libia mumbled, leaning her temple on Damon's shoulder as he helped her walk.

Damon shook his head, wrapping an arm around her waist and practically picking her up, seeing as her feet dragged anyway. "Why should he be? I wouldn't be surprised if he never let me see you again," He told Libia.

Lifting her head, Libia frowned at Damon. "He's going to worship the ground you walk on, Damon. What I mean is that he's not going to take the news that I got attacked easily. Neither is Mom. You know it's not your fault," Libia told him in a scolding manner, setting her hand on his bicep and squeezing for emphasis. 

Damon shook his head, but murmured, "Sure, sure."

Sighing as they reached the front door, Libia reached out and pressed the doorbell. "Don't you have a key?" He asked her.

She shrugged. "I don't feel like finding it."

He understood that. 

The door flew open without delay, and there stood Ben, seething with worry and anger. "Where have you been? Do you know how- Libia, your face!" Ben rushed out, noticing the bruises she sported.

"I'm alright, Ben. Really-"

"She was attacked. On her way home, two lollygags thought it was a good idea to jump her," Damon cut in before Libia could chicken out with some lame excuse.

Libia winced. She knew how her brother would react. 

And she was right. Ben seethed with anger. His hands clenched into fists, and his body began shaking. He let out a roar and his fist went flying, smashing into the wall beside the door.

Suddenly, their mother appeared in the doorway, calm and collected. She grabbed ahold of Ben and dragged him away, calling back, "Go in the kitchen and get settled. I want the full story when I calm him down!"

He was unsurprised by Libia's brother's reaction. Ben took it better than Damon did. Damon completely blacked out with rage. He stepped through the threshold, holding Libia securely to his side, although she was more alert now. He sat her down on a kitchen stool and turned her chair to face him. Lifting her chin so her face was tilted in the light, he examined her bruises. "Where are your rags?" He asked her.

"Third droor down by the sink," She replied softly.

Words couldn't explain the shock she felt when he briefly pressed his lips to her marred cheek, so warm and soft that she wanted to close her eyes and relish in it. But he pulled away, and she watched as he turned and opened the droor she had directed him to, pulling out a large kitchen towel and opening the freezer. He filled the rag with ice, bunching it up in his fist to create a make-shift ice pack, and approached her. He carefully pressed it to her swollen cheek, his serious, but tender gaze colliding with her wide, innocent one. He pressed his hand to her other cheek, and a soft smile finally showed itself, although it was small.

"I'm glad you're safe, Libia."

She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks, but she doubted it was noticable, seeing that her bruise throbbed anyway.

The coolness of the ice began to seep through the cloth, providing relief from the pain.

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be safe, Damon. Remember that," She told him, settling a hand on his chest, over his heart.

Damon dropped his hand from her cheek, and she from his chest, as they heard her mother and brother making their way to the kitchen, speaking quietly.

Damon kept holding the icepack over her cheek, taking her chin to turn her head and asess the damage done to her by Johnson and Bailey earlier that day. His eyebrows furrowed and he sighed heavily. That one really was his fault. If he hadn't joined the football team, he would have been there with her. As soon as he got the time, he was dropping out and taking up gym class again.

"Oh! Are we inturrupting something?" Damon dropped his hand, turning to see her mother standing in the doorway. It amused him slightly to find that her eyes were hopeful.

Libia almost groaned in embarrassment, as her gaze moved up to Ben, who stood there with his chest puffed out, brotherly mode showing proudly as he scrutinized Damon like a predator watches it's prey.

"Of course not, Mrs. Fields. I'm just tending to Libia's bruise," Damon said smoothly, causing Libia to look at him.

"Don't call me Mrs. Fields. I'll feel old. Call me Sadie," Her mother told him.

"Sure," He told her.

Libia put a hand on his, which still held the icepack. He looked at her, and she indicated that she could hold it herself. He nodded, a little reluctantly, and gently pulled his hand out from under hers.

"So what's this about Libia being attacked?" Her mother asked, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and turning it to face them as she sat down. Ben followed her lead.

Damon sat beside Libia, facing away from the counter so he could lean his elbows on it. "I tried calling you to tell you what happened. I couldn't get ahold of either of you before her phone died, and I had no way of contacting you otherwise - I didn't have your number. Two hours ago, Libia got off of her shift early and began walking home. I was at the store with a few friends at the time and noticed her leave. Needless to say, I got worried. I had planned on following after her to walk her home, but by the time I found her, it was too late. They were obviously drunk, the two that had attacked her, and they were looking for a good time I suppose. I got there just in time to see Libia being pushed into a tree and then..." He trailed off, and then let out a hesitant laugh, "I don't remember what happened after that. I blacked out. Libia told me that I beat the living hell out of them, but I don't remember. All I remember is one second I'm standing there watching this guy treat Libia like some-," He cut himself off, his fists clenching briefly and his eyes closing as he contained his anger, "And the next," He continued, opening his eyes, "I'm standing over them while they lay on the concrete, out cold. My fists are bloody and bruising, and Libia is calling my name," He finished, shrugging.

The room was silent. Libia's breathing was slightly shaky as the memory she'd tried to keep at bay came back to her. She didn't like to think of the outcome if Damon hadn't been there.

Noticing her anxiety, Damon quickly reached out, taking her free hand and enclosing it in his.  Their eyes met for a long moment, before Libia's breathing slowed to a steady rhythm. She gave him a weak smile of thanks.

"Oh god," Sadie said, suddenly feeling feint.

"Mom?" Ben reached for her as she leaned over, her elbows leaning on her knees.

Libia sprung from her chair in worry, setting aside the ice pack, and hurrying to where her mother sat, hunched and shaking.

She leaned down in front of her, taking her shoulders in each hand. "Mom?"

"My baby!" The calm front she had been putting up crumbled, as she reached out and pulled Libia into her.

"Mom, I'm okay!" Libia assured, alarmed as she squeezed her mother's shoulders in emphasis of her words.

"But you might not have been! You might have been...k-killed! Violated! My little girl!" She pulled her tighter to her chest, causing Libia to pull her mother out of her chair and onto the floor so she could hold her without Libia snapping in half with the force of her arms.

Libia now had the strong front pulled up. She'd had practice with hiding her emotions before, when their dear grandfather died days after their grandmother did. They'd been a second parent to Libia, but she had to be strong for her mother and her brother, knowing that their normally boisterous personalities were also very, very fragile. Sometimes a person could be so naturally happy, that when they fall - they fall the hardest, and shatter. Libia had seen it when her grandparents died, and she had seen it when her dad left her mother. Both times, she'd been the rock holding the family together. This time was no different.

So, she gently rocked her mother, rebelling against the tears that wanted to come. Beside them, Ben sank to his knees, gently setting a hand on his mother's back. Damon could only watch the change he saw in Libia. She looked years older than eighteen. Her face serious and far from the fearful, sobbing girl he'd held in his arms just hours before. It struck him to realize that Libia was used to this. She was used to being the mother figure of the family. She also looked weary, and it was no surprise, either. He wondered how long she'd had to be the parent in the family. How long she'd had to be strong and mature for those who couldn't be. She must have been tired, to take on such a responsibility.

***

It was hours later that Libia was standing on the doorstep, her shirt stained with her mother's tears, in front of Damon. Damon was waiting for his brother to pick him up, seeing as they'd gone to her home in his friend's car. Neil, she remembered that he'd introduced himself. She could hardly remember the other's names, as the few hours after the attack were spent in an exhausted haze on her part. She only remembered Neil's name because he'd mentioned that he was Damon's oldest friend.

They stared at eachother in the limited, orange light of the corner street post, clashing with the silvery light of the moon. She could barely see his eyes as he was turned away from the light, darkening his face, but she knew he wasn't smiling. She wasn't either. How could she?

"Thank-" She began, but he cut her off.

"If I have to hear "thank you" one more time, I'm going to puke," He muttered.

She knew he was serious, but she was unable to stop a laugh from escaping. "Fine, then what do you want? There is no way that I can pay you back for what you did. I owe you my life. At least let me try and thank you somehow," Libia said, shrugging.

Even in the darkness, Libia could see Damon tense, and wheels began turning in his head. She tilted her own, wondering