Relentless Habit: O-Town Series

by Karen Renee

  “We can take you back to the house–”

  “No,” I interrupted because I could tell from his tone he didn’t like me being with Brock, but he had no valid basis for that. “Dad, I love him and he loves me.”

  He looked past me to the sliding glass doors of the balcony. When he looked back to me and spoke again his voice was rough. “When did that happen?”

  His facial expression and the sound of his voice made my nose burn and tears well in my eyes because I knew he was struggling with me moving into another stage of adulthood. I swallowed and got myself under control. “A while ago.”

  “Nah. It happened long before that, my Cecilia,” he murmured, confirming he didn’t like letting go of his daughter.

  I heard the shower start, and wondered how long Mom and Dad were going to stay. Brock wandered up to my other side crouching near my knees.

  “I’m gonna change, and then I gotta run to the drug store to get your meds. Shouldn’t take more than half an hour.”

  “It can wai–”

  “No,” he said, squeezing my knee. “You gotta take your medicine with food, and if I hustle I should be back when the rest of your crew arrives.”

  “Brock, Dave and I can go pick up her medicine,” Mom said. “Plus, we need to figure out where we’re staying. It’s nice of your brother to offer us his bed, but it seems you have this in hand.”

  Dad’s lips pressed together, and I knew he had wanted to stay here rather than spend the money on a hotel room.

  Brock seemed to sense this, but he stood and looked at my mother. “It really doesn’t matter to me, Debbie. You and Mr. Lyons are welcome to stay here, but if you intend to get her prescription, it’s at the CVS on the corner.”

  I heard Mom rooting around in her purse and then the sound of her keys jangling. “Well, Dave and I will get right on that.”

  “Deb,” Dad started.

  “Dave, let’s give these two some room. It shouldn’t take us but twenty minutes.”

  Dad shot her a look, squeezed my bicep and stood up. “Fine. Sweet-pea, we’ll be back.”

  I grinned. “I’ll be here.”

  They left, Brock went to change and I was alone for the first time in hours. I stretched out on the couch, laying my head on the pillow and resting my eyes for a moment. My head hurt and ‘resting my eyes’ turned into ‘falling asleep’ within minutes.

  The sound of plastic bags and people trying to keep their voices down cut my cat-nap short. I blinked to see MeMaw tucking her over-sized handbag under an end table. She noticed my open eyes and winked at me.

  “All right, where are my son and daughter-in-law?” she asked Brock in a low voice.

  Brock shushed her, and I said, “It’s okay, Brock. I was already awake.”

  Gabe sauntered out of the hall wearing khaki cargo shorts and a red tank-top sporting the Anheuser-Busch logo across his chest and ‘Budweiser’ written across the bottom. He moved around the couch, asking, “Brock, you got a moment?”

  “Not really, man, what’s up?”

  Gabe’s irritated sigh could not be missed. “Dad mentioned a certain type of dinner with—”

  “Yeah. I was gonna bring that up to you, but under the circumstances, Cecilia’s taken priority. Plus, I haven’t decided if I’m willing to do it or not.”

  “I can’t believe you’re even thinking about it.”

  Having propped myself further up on the couch, I saw Brock’s jaw clench. “This isn’t the time, Gabe.”

  “Well, if you decide to do this and I get roped into it, tellin’ you right now, I’m not takin’ a woman with me.”

  “Not right now, man,” Brock bit out.

  MeMaw unearthed a container and held it toward Gabe. “Gabe, is it? I’m Minnie and I believe you had the General Tso, right?”

  Gabe took the food from her with his left hand and held out his right to shake hers. “Gabe Sullivan, it’s nice to meet you, Minnie.”

  MeMaw shook his hand and kept her gaze locked on Gabe. “Another thing, I don’t know what kind of dinner your father has told you about, or what your brother has to decide about it, but if you don’t like the idea of doin’ it, the right woman by your side might make it at least a little bit better for you.”

  Gabe and Brock both looked to me, and my humor fled my face as my eyes widened at them. “I didn’t say anything, I swear.”

  Brock’s face darkened. “Of course you didn’t, Sunflower. Hell, I was gonna talk to you about it tonight, but it’s the last fuckin’ thing on my mind now. So, what’ll it be? Sesame Chicken or Cashew?”

  I hesitated too long.

  Brock clipped out, “Screw it. You’ll have some of both. They told me not to force you to make too many decisions. You need more ginger ale?”

  “I’m good,” I said in a low voice. It never failed to surprise me when Brock went protective on me, but I seriously liked it.

  He threw a curt nod my way, but his eyes were warm on me and I smiled at him. When he brought a tray to me moments later, I grabbed his hand to pull him down to the couch next to me. He resisted for a moment, looked around, and finally decided to plant himself on the couch.

  “You decided to do the dinner?” I whispered.

  His head tilted while he sighed. “This isn’t–”

  I still had hold of his hand, so I squeezed and shook my head gently. “Sure it is.”

  “I’m still not sure, honey.”

  I grinned at him. “Why not?”

  His chin dipped and his eyes widened as though I’d lost even more of my brain cells than I probably did that day. “Are you joking?”

  “No! I mean, I know her only as Dr. Scibearis, but she seemed nice. I know it’s not the same thing, but seriously, find a time and do it. It’s just a dinner.” I paused to watch Brock take in my words. A major grin lit my face before I delivered my kill shot. “Besides, Gabe says he won’t take a woman with him, but I know exactly who he should take with him. Cassandra.”

  Brock’s eyes darkened for a moment, but the more he thought about it, his face lit up and he laughed. “You’re right, Sunflower. But I’m still gonna sleep on it at least. Now, eat up so you can take your pills. Your parents should be here any moment.”

  “Fine,” I relented. “As long as you come back to eat with me, capisce?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “You got it, baby.”

  Brock

  I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT was taking Cecilia’s parents so long, but I couldn’t stand cold Chinese food so I grabbed a bowl of wonton soup and settled in next to my woman. The bump on her head was pronounced, and I had to force myself not to stare at it because it made my temper flare in the worst way. It was hard not to beat myself up over those thugs getting to her. I had forced her to spend the night with me every night, but I never thought they would attack her in broad daylight.

  I wanted to hunt the assholes down myself, but Clint assured me he was going after them. He grew up with an abusive father, and that abuse didn’t stop until his father left them when Clint was twelve. So seeing a woman thrown to the ground in any way brought out a ruthless side of Clint. His job as a private investigator meant he had connections in places that I didn’t. As I contemplated how I was going to keep Cecilia safe in the days ahead, she nudged my leg with hers to get my attention.

  “I wasn’t kidding about Cassandra,” she muttered.

  My mouth was full of an overstuffed wonton, so I chewed double-time and nodded. I spoke after I swallowed. “Know that, honey, but if Gabe’s head is still up his ass, which sorry to say, it is, then taking Cassandra to meet my mother is not doing anyone any favors.”

  After she shoveled a bite of cashew chicken and rice into her mouth, she wobbled her head, deliberating my point. She shrugged a shoulder after she swallowed. “You never know. Cassandra might surprise you... and your brother, both.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t know you were a meddler.”

  She laughed her loud laugh, but immediately stopped, wh
ich got my attention. Her eyes darted away from me for a moment. “You’ve met MeMaw. She’s the queen bee of meddling. Of course that would rub off on me, honey.”

  I finished my soup and noticed that Cecilia was picking at her food. “Do you want something else? Is that not sitting well with you, Cecilia?”

  She looked at the tray in front of her, and shook her head. “No. It all smells really good, and I want to eat it, but the nausea comes and goes, you know?”

  Having never had a concussion, I didn’t know, but I knew how nausea fucked up my appetite so I nodded. “All right. Eat what you can. If you want I’ll bring you more–”

  The door opening and Debbie announcing her arrival cut me short. She brought in five rustling plastic bags, and I knew Cecilia’s medication didn’t require five bags.

  Debbie bustled up to the only empty counter space in the kitchen to plop down her load. “Okay, I know, or I knew, Minnie and Razor were bringing back Chinese, but I know my girls. Any kind of queasy stomach automatically means saltines, and I didn’t spy any in the open pantry before we left. So, we got your medicine, crackers, peanut butter, some cheese slices, and probably some things the doctor didn’t think to tell you or Brock about before you left the hospital.”

  “Jesus,” I muttered and it wasn’t until I heard my low voice that I realized I meant to keep that quiet.

  Cecilia stifled a laugh and nudged my leg. “You might say my mother’s as much a meddler as MeMaw, but we mean well.”

  BY THE TIME I FINISHED my dinner followed by my second beer, everyone else had consumed their food too. With other people this would herald the time for plate clearing followed by clearing out, but I already suspected Cecilia’s family wasn’t that way. Along with saltines and Cecilia’s meds, Debbie had brought in some mixers and a variety of wine. Minnie leaned to the side, tagging her pint glass which was now half-filled with a Tom Collins, though I was loathe to call it that since it was made with a store-bought mix and the woman ran a biker bar.

  She sipped from her glass, but kept her eyes leveled on Cecilia. “You think any more about runnin’ the bar with your sister?”

  I fought flying off the handle, with my temper. Did she forget Cecilia had a concussion?

  Debbie, Dave, Neil, and Cecilia spoke all at once.

  Debbie breathed out, “Minnie!”

  Dave incredulously bit out, “What?”

  My woman and her sister both cried, “MeMaw!”

  While they all waited for a response, I waded in. “No. This is not the time to talk about this. She’s supposed to be resting. Dinner and making sure she’s good was one thing, but no way is this conversation happening right now.”

  Cecilia reached out grabbing my forearm. “Brock. It’s all right.”

  My head whipped round to her. “The hell it is! Those doctors orders say not to play video games where your mind might be taxed, so no way are you gonna have a meaningful conversation like this right now.”

  I heard Neil snort, but when I looked to her, she was examining her shoes with a pleased look on her face.

  Mr. Lyons piped up. “Well, Ceil doesn’t need to participate in this conversation because neither of my daughters are running that bar. Not now, not ever.”

  “David,” Debbie spat at her husband.

  But Minnie’s use of his name would halt any man in his tracks. “David Malcolm Lyons. I know they’re your daughters, but by God, they’re my granddaughters. And if by His grace God grants you the beauty of grandchildren you’ll finally know where I’m comin’ from, but you will not decide if those girls are running my bar or not.”

  Mr. Lyons turned a defeated look to the carpet for a brief moment, then he looked back to his mother with fire in his eyes. “Ma, who’s at the bar now?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Dad, because a man needs to be there to handle your customers. You and Dad would do better to gradually hand the bar over to Gordon and Tim because they’re–”

  “Stop right there, David,” Minnie hissed.

  I nearly chuckled because, of all the crazy thoughts to enter my head, a vision of Cecilia’s nurse Harold hit me and his words about her life being like a soap opera were never more apropos than this very moment. I shook my head to shake off the thoughts, but Mr. Lyons kept at his mother.

  “How is Tennille going to deal with a drunk and disorderly man who weighs in at two-hundred fifty pounds? She can’t.”

  Tennille leaned forward on her barstool. “Funny hearing you say that now, since the past four years you’ve been hell-bent for me to schlep drinks at the RoadWay instead of make a damn good living selling cars. All because I’m a woman.”

  Surprisingly, Cecilia’s calm voice cut through the crazy. “All of you be quiet. For the love of God, my head hurt when I got here, and none of this is helping. MeMaw, I love you to the next three galaxies and beyond. You know that, I know that, and I know you feel the same. Like it or not, I’m an addict. Recovering addict, former addict, doesn’t matter how people classify it. The common denominator is addict. No way I’m gonna do anybody any good dealing with alcohol day in and day out.”

  There was a lengthy pause, but Minnie proved to be as stubborn as her granddaughter. “But you could work the back office. Hell, the back office can be relocated to an actual office.”

  Cecilia shook her head slowly. “No, MeMaw. You know that’s not true. Not if you want the RoadWay to stay true to the thirty-plus years of being a fabulous local watering hole. I hate to say it, but even seeing names of alcohol in print gives me cravings.”

  My brother shifted on his barstool at the kitchen island. “Thinkin’ I need to get goin’... or I should–”

  Cecilia slid her eyes to him. “Gabe, the only way that tank could be better is if Brock were wearing it, so don’t you dare change because of what I said. That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

  Her comment about the tank looking better on me threw me, but watching my brother look even more uncomfortable forced me to bite back my laughter.

  She turned to her father. “Daddy, I don’t know why you have so little faith in us or why you don’t see this, but Tennille could run that bar, no problem. She might have to stow her shotgun close by, but she could do it. And with the type of man she’s engaged to, I doubt many of the regulars would mess with her.”

  Mr. Lyons gave Cecilia a hard look. “Not the regulars I’m worried about.”

  “How about we table this conversation for right now?” Razor asked, and I was surprised it didn’t come out as a demand.

  “You’re sure you’re out, CeeCee?” Minnie asked.

  Cecilia nodded. “Got rejected for the role I auditioned for today, but someone’s encouraged me to think about what my dreams really are. Running the RoadWay isn’t it, MeMaw.”

  “Fine,” Minnie sighed.

  Mr. Lyons leaned forward in the armchair. “Ceil, it isn’t that I don’t have faith in you or your sister. It’s that I love you both too damn much to want either of you in dangerous or stressful positions. I’ll always want to protect you both even if that’s not my place any more.”

  Cecilia nodded and smiled at him and then took a sip of her ginger ale.

  Watching her, I asked, “You take your pills yet, honey?” I stood. “Let me get them for you, and maybe you’ll want to move to the bedroom to rest for a couple hours.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Loved so Much

  Cecilia

  By the third time Brock’s alarm sounded and he turned on the lights in order to look into my eyes in his clinical way and ask me his laundry list of questions, I was ready to slug him. No doubt, the doctors knew what they were doing, but I had to wonder how they figured out a concussion patient had to be awakened every two hours. It seemed like a sadistic and harsh form of punishment.

  Still leaned over my semi-flat body, wearing his satiny basketball shorts and no shirt, Brock made to move away from me, but I grabbed his sinewy forearm. “Don’t you have to report in for your internship?�
��

  The clinical look left his face and a softer one took its place. “Was supposed to, but interns get two sick days and I’m takin’ one.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Brock’s fingers shot to my lips. “Save it, Sunflower. Not arguing about it. Can already see the brief interruptions into your sleep every two hours are takin’ their toll on you. Normally wouldn’t admit this, but it’s wearing on me too, so I’m here with you.”

  “Okay,” I murmured. Then I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  His eyes warmed and he touched my mouth with his. “Not your fault, so don’t be. Shit happens. I’m just fuckin’ glad you’re here. Five longest seconds of my life were when I thought that bastard had shot you. One moment I saw you with his fuckin’ gun at your head, his asshole partner turns my attention and I turn back to see you nowhere in sight. I couldn’t get my hands on your pulse quick enough, baby.”

  I pressed my lips together and kept quiet, but Brock must have read something in my expression.

  He moved forward so our faces were centimeters apart, and if there hadn’t been a lump on my forehead, I’m sure he would’ve rested his on mine. “Don’t you even go lookin’ for ways to use that as another bullshit excuse to cut me loose. That isn’t happening, either. Now, you need another round of medicine or are you ready to get a little more sleep?”

  I smiled. “I’m ready to get a little more sleep, Mr. Bossy.”

  “Fine. I’ll turn the light out after I use the bathroom.”

  BROCK AND I REPEATED the same rigmarole at five in the morning and part of me wanted to move to the living room since I didn’t anticipate going back to sleep. My bossy, loving boyfriend dissuaded me of that idea and spooned me from behind. At six-fifteen I was up though, because when I worked day-side, that was when I woke up.

  With care, I slid out from under Brock’s heavy arm and quietly closed the door to the bathroom. I did my business and washed my hands. My mother had brought a bag of my stuff from my apartment late last night. Since my robe now hung on the back of the bathroom door, I wrapped it around my body. To my surprise, Brock had not stirred in the bed and I gently closed the bedroom door behind me.