by Sara Dailey
If not, I’d need a Plan B.
*****
That night I curled my hair, put on makeup and perfume, and dressed in my favorite cut-off shorts and a low-cut tank. After I slipped Marcus’s necklace on, I hurried down the stairs and out the front door, thankful my parents were spending the evening at the Stantons’.
The entire way to Marcus’s, I rehearsed exactly what I would say, and as I knocked on the door I plastered a smile on my face. His parents greeted me a little more excitedly than usual, and they sent me up to the game room to find their son.
He barely looked away from the television to tell me hello, so I sank down into the couch and pretended to watch a rerun of The Real World with him. At the commercial break, I turned my body toward him and set Plan A into action.
“So, I was thinking we haven’t had a lot of time together lately, and since it’s summer now, maybe we could get away for the weekend. Maybe a trip to the river?”
He huffed. Huffed! Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees, and his eyes fell to the floor. “I don’t think so, Lily. I have a lot going on here. I can’t take off for the whole weekend.”
I tried again. “Well, maybe just the day then? We can go hiking or something.”
He sat back on the couch and finally looked my way. “Really, Lily? Hiking?”
“Okay, bad idea. Oh, I heard about a music festival in Red Ridge this weekend. We can go tonight. Come on, it will be fun.” I tried to keep my voice upbeat, but this was harder than I thought, and he wasn’t making it any easier.
Marcus stood and ran his fingers through his hair. Letting out another huff, he turned his back to me and said, “Yeah, I don’t think so. Besides, I have some stuff to take care of tonight. I am in the process of learning how to run this pack, you know. I have responsibilities, not that you would know anything about that.”
Instinctively I shot up from the couch. My blood was boiling, my ears ringing. He had some nerve talking to me about responsibility! I knew all too well about responsibility. This time it was me who huffed as I threw my hands up in frustration. “What’s going on with us, Marcus? Is this what our lives are going to be like? Barely talking, never doing anything together? We used to have so much fun together.”
Marcus turned back to face me once more. His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked as frustrated as I felt. “Oh, please. Get over yourself. Poor Lillian Michaels, never gets to have any fun anymore. Do you even hear yourself right now?”
“What about you, Marcus? Do you hear yourself? You treat me like shit. Like you don’t even love me anymore. I can’t figure out why you’re even marrying me.”
Crossing his arms defensively, Marcus took a step in my direction, closing a bit of the distance between us. “Look, it is what it is. We are getting married. End of story. I feel just as stuck as you do, but you don’t see me crying about it.”
Stuck? He felt stuck? His words sliced right through me. My heart constricted and tears filled my eyes. I hated myself for crying, for doing exactly what he said I’d do, but I wasn’t as weak as he thought. To prove it, I eliminated every last bit of space between us, looked straight into his eyes and asked the question I’d been dying to know the answer to. “Then why the hell are we getting married?”
Suddenly looking completely dejected, his shoulders slumped as he let his body fall to the couch. His head rested against the cushion behind him, and his eyes closed and remained that way as he spoke. “Because we have to.”
Slowly he opened his eyes and lifted his head, but he avoided eye contact as he continued. “You aren’t supposed to know this, so you better keep your mouth shut. Your parents were supposed to have a son. Their son would have become my enforcer, just as your father is my dad’s enforcer. But they had you and then weren’t able to have any more children. So our parents agreed—to keep your family in the alpha’s circle—we would be married. Then your mom and dad wouldn’t lose their status in the pack when Phillip became my enforcer. It’s been their plan for years. When I fell for you, they couldn’t have been happier. Everything was falling into place. I only found out when we started drifting apart. My dad told me the truth, told me I had to marry you. There’s no going back now. Our marriage was arranged, and we have to go through with it.”
My body dropped down on the couch next to him as the truth swallowed me whole. Everyone had been lying to me all this time. My parents, Marcus, his parents… It had all been one giant lie, an elaborate charade. I couldn’t even find words to respond. Finally the ugly truth was revealed, but I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. My parents, the two people who were supposed to love me the most in this world, traded me, their only child, to keep their status in the pack.
My head was spinning and I wasn’t sure if my legs would even cooperate, but I needed to get out of there. Needed to get away from all of them.
Without another word, I stood up and walked away. His parents said goodbye as I passed, but I just kept moving. I couldn’t pretend right now.
Once outside, I rushed home, flew up the stairs, and threw myself down on my bed. After spending a half hour or so in a state of complete shock, I sat up and grabbed the phone without giving myself time to chicken out.
It rang twice before she picked up.
“Hey, Tiff, wanna get off the estate for a while? I need to get out of here.”
Chapter 6
“Lily, freakin’ relax! I swear if you pass out I will leave your ass in the car,” Tiffany yelled from the driver’s seat of her Pontiac Sunfire.
Leaving the estate had felt like the right thing to do at the time, but as we drove under the big sign advertising Red Ridge’s First Ever Music Festival, I was having second thoughts. I’d never done anything like this before, never once gone against my parents’ wishes, never broken a single rule. I couldn’t stop thinking about what my mother would say if she knew her perfect little princess was here without Marcus.
Shit! Marcus. He’d kill me if he knew I’d run off with Tiffany of all people. And if I somehow survived Marcus’s wrath, his father would probably put me under house arrest. Maybe he’d implant me with a tracking device like a damn dog. This was a very bad idea. I looked down at my trembling hands and almost begged Tiffany to take me back home.
Almost.
When I looked out the window at the lights in the distance, at the crowd of people filing in the front gates, I decided this was something I needed to do before I became Mrs. Marcus Walker. Then I closed my eyes and reminded myself for the hundredth time since we drove off the estate, Who the hell cares what they’d say or do? For one night I’m going to do what I want.
I took a deep breath and tried to relax. “Okay, I’m fine.”
She glanced my way, laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, right.”
She parked the car in the free gravel lot, checked her makeup, and was out of the car before I even had a chance to open my door. Tiffany stood there with her hands on her hips, waiting. When I finally got out, she hooked her arm through mine, and together we walked through the gates of the fairgrounds.
Before we did anything, I needed to make sure Tiffany understood what was at stake. I pulled her to a stop and made her look at me. “You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone that I came here tonight. I mean it, Tiff. If my parents or Marcus find out, it won’t be pretty. Seriously.”
Tiffany looked around before saying, “Listen, I turn eighteen at the end of summer, and then I’m gone. The estate will be in my rearview mirror before sundown on August twenty-third. I’m not sticking around for a single day longer than I have to. You keep my secret, and I’ll keep yours. We take it to our graves.”
I was absolutely stunned. I’d never heard of anyone voluntarily leaving our pack before. I didn’t even realize that you could, that the pack would let you. I leaned in to ensure that no one else could hear. “Really? You’re just going to take off? You aren’t worried they’ll come after you?”
“It’s not likely.
Once you leave, you’re out. There’s no going back, no second chances, but I’ve got some money saved. I don’t plan on coming back. I’d rather be homeless.”
I stared at her, wide-eyed and speechless. She linked her arm through mine once again and continued walking.
“Look, I swear I won’t tell a soul that you did anything remotely fun tonight. Okay?” she said.
I nodded, but she didn’t notice because she’d already set her sights on some guy passing by in the opposite direction. As soon as their eyes connected, she dropped my arm and started drifting toward him. “I’ll see you later, Michaels. Meet me back right here in like an hour,” she yelled over her shoulder as she raced to catch up with her pick for the night.
Un-freakin’-believable! I should have known Tiffany would ditch me for the first hot-looking human who looked her way. I surveyed the area but wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself.
Standing alone in the middle of the festival with so much to see and do, I no longer felt nervous about the chance of getting caught. Instead I felt excited, almost giddy. I felt free for the first time in my life, and it was a heady feeling that scared the shit out of me, but only because I liked it so much. I knew I shouldn’t be there, but I no longer cared and I refused to let fear rule my life, at least for one night.
Right then, amongst the crowd of strangers surrounding me, I made a silent vow to myself that I’d make the most of it. And I did. After my little internal pep talk I started walking up and down through the rows of booths that were set up with humans selling everything from sodas and hotdogs to airbrushed T-shirts and old album covers.
When I found my way back to the front entrance, Tiffany was nowhere to be seen. I bought myself a Coke and went to listen to the band that was setting up nearby at the main stage.
A small crowd already filled the area up front. Waiting for the band to start, I sat on a small wooden bench off to the side of the stage to hear what all the hype was about.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a man announced over the intercom, “please welcome to the main stage, all the way from Taos, THE SPASTIC BAMBIS!”
Their small following cheered as the guys came out on stage. Moments later, the intro to “When I Come Around” by Green Day blasted from the speakers. By the time they got to the chorus, more and more people stopped to crowd around.
They were good, but they were no Green Day. I didn’t see what all the fuss was about until I got up and walked over to get a better look. Three very hot guys were spread out across the stage singing and playing their hearts out. Tiffany was going to be pissed she missed this.
As I walked around the back of the crowd to get to the other side, he came into view. I was totally mistaken; this band had three very hot guys and one drop-dead gorgeous bass player. Watching the tattoo-covered muscles of his arms move to the beat of the music as he played was hypnotic.
Without a second thought, I pushed my way toward the stage to get a closer look. He was tall and lean and absolutely stunning, a vision in black pants. Somehow, I managed to tear my eyes away from his arms long enough to look at the rest of him.
Good heavens, he didn’t disappoint. He had that bad-boy-rock-star, I-don’t-give-a-shit vibe, beginning with his black steel-toed Doc Martens, up past his snugly fit Sex Pistols T-shirt, all the way to his blond, spiky hair dyed blood-red at the tips. He looked nothing like the guys I was used to, and nothing like Marcus.
That was just fine by me.
I stood transfixed while his band played a few other songs. At the end of the fourth, he bent down to pick up some water, and I had never in my life been more jealous of something than I was of that bottle when it touched his lips. He might have been one of the most perfect creatures I’d ever had the luxury of seeing.
And then he started to sing. His voice…oh the gods…his voice. It was the kind of voice that was meant to whisper sweet nothings and dirty promises in the darkest hour of the night.
I sucked in a breath and stared, completely consumed. He stood perfectly still, his eyes closed, his guitar resting against his back, both hands gently holding the microphone while he sang the sexiest version of Radiohead’s “Creep” that I had ever heard.
His eyes opened as he reached the first chorus, and even from as far back as I stood I could tell that they were a startling pale blue. For some reason his eyes reminded me of a swimming pool. Suddenly I was thinking of swimming. Then I was swimming with him. It was dark and we were naked, and…
Oh my God…he just caught me staring at him while daydreaming about him naked!
My face had to have been ten shades of red. I figured he might smile and look away, go back to singing all sexy-like with his eyes closed, but he didn’t. He stared directly at me and I couldn’t move, much less look away, not when he was watching me just as wantonly as I was watching him. When he finally did smile at me, I freaked.
Completely overcome with humiliation, I turned and took off toward my pathetic, safe little bench, out of view of the sexy musician. How embarrassing and completely cliché! I was the stupid, lonely teenage girl drooling over the bad-boy rocker with the sexy arms and the voice that could melt chocolate. There was probably at least twenty other girls standing there fantasizing about him too.
I stayed glued to my bench until the Spastic Bambis finished their set and another less-sexy band took the stage. Suddenly, the urge to get out of there was overwhelming. I needed to find Tiffany, drag her ass to the car, and bury myself under the covers when I got home.
The crowd was beginning to thin out, so I got up and started to make my way back to the main gate. I didn’t get more than a few feet away before someone grabbed my arm. I turned around expecting to see Tiffany and her latest catch, but I had never been more wrong.
Chapter 7
My eyes shot open in shock at the sight of the ridiculously sexy guitar player holding my arm. His smile lit up his entire face, and I found myself in awe of the pure beauty of something as simple as a grin.
All too soon he let go of my arm, but steadily he held my gaze as he said, “Hey, I saw you out there in the crowd and couldn’t let you run off before I introduced myself. I’m Paul. Paul Wright. And I promise I’m not crazy. ’Cause you’re kinda lookin’ at me like I might be a serial killer or something.”
Shaking myself out of my starstruck haze, I managed to close my mouth and form some semblance of a smile. In my head, all I could think was no freakin’ way, but after a second or two I managed to piece together a few coherent words as I popped my knuckles repeatedly.
“Uh, I’m Lillian.” Not great, but at least it was something.
He stuck out his hand for me to shake. “Nice to meet you, Lillian…”
He was obviously waiting for me to continue, and for about a second I considered ending our conversation right there and walking away, but watching his pale-blue eyes dance with possibilities, I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. “Lillian Michaels. You were really great up there. You’re not a serial killer, are you? Because if you are, I should probably just be on my way.”
He laughed at my lame joke. I’d forgotten how good it felt to actually make someone laugh. With his hand still wrapped around mine he replied, “Definitely not a serial killer. Okay, here it is. Like I said, my name is Paul. I just graduated from college. I’m twenty-two. No girlfriend, no kids, no drugs. Never been arrested. And I’ve never been one to let an opportunity pass me by, and when I saw you, I just knew you were someone I had to meet.”
Reluctantly I pulled my hand away. “So you think I’m an opportunity, huh?”
“That really didn’t come out right, did it? What I meant to say was I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet someone so beautiful. A girl who looks like she would be very hard to forget. You are aware that there is not another female here who could even compare, right?”
Never in my life had I been more intrigued, but I shot him a look that I hoped said that I thought he was full of shit.
&nbs
p; Twisting the bands around his wrist, he let out a quiet chuckle. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you, Lillian Michaels?”
I crossed my arms and shot my hip out to the side. “Well, I wouldn’t want you thinkin’ that I was just another easy opportunity,” I teased, hoping my cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt.
I had no idea what had gotten into me. I was actually flirting with a bass player from a punk band who had bright red hair tips and tattoos covering his arms, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. His playful demeanor was contagious, and it had been entirely too long since I had any fun.
He put his hand over his heart, pretending to be in pain. “Come on, you’re killing me here. Am I ever gonna dig myself out of this one? Because I’d really like the chance to try.”
“Well, I hope you have a shovel because it looks like you might need it.”
Taking a step in my direction, he ran his fingers down the length of my arm before scooping my hand back up in his. “I’ll dig all night as long as you promise to stick around.”
My pulse quickened as my entire body flooded with warmth, and suddenly I realized just how much trouble this guy could be. I didn’t even know him. He could be a total sleazeball on the hunt for some random girl to lure back to his van. Besides that, Marcus would kill me for even stopping to talk to this guy—after he killed the poor human first.
Before I could change my mind, I pulled my hand out of Paul’s grasp and said, “You know, I really need to find my friend, but it was nice meeting you. Have a good night, Paul.” I turned, forcing one foot in front of the other and didn’t look back.
I’d made it about five feet before I noticed that I wasn’t alone. Falling into step, Paul flashed me a crooked grin and shrugged his shoulders. “No worries. I’ll help you find her. It would be my pleasure. Wait…your friend. She is a girl, right?”