Bad girl

Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen.

Ben settled into his seat, looking as if he hadn't slept in days, and in all reality, he'd slept very little. He was still a little weak, as he recovered from his illness, but he was well enough that they sent him home with a bottle of benedrill and an order to sleep.

He didn't look like he'd have much of a problem following those orders.

Libia had been fuming for the past day and a half. Having had a very firm - albeit angry - discussion with her father, and having him storm out, she wasn't in the best of moods. She was tired, and the only thing that helped her through the week was Damon's text. It wasn't anything special, really, just a simple:

Hope you're getting a lot of rest and relaxation, Babe. 

But it was just the reminder of his confession to her in the hospital, that made a smile grace her lips.

They drove in silence for the first half of the trip, and Libia was under the impression that he'd fallen asleep. The car began to heat up, so Libia used the red light as a chance to shrug off her jacket.

She'd almost forgotten about the tattoo that graced her shoulder, so when a gasp filled the car, Libia glanced at Ben with a raised eyebrow.

"What...is that?" He asked her, horrified, staring at her back.

Libia stared at him for a moment in confusion, before it hit her, and her hand flew to her shoulder. She spluttered, "Well...it's a...well sort of a-,"

"A tattoo," He finished, his eyes lifting to hers. "It's a damn tattoo."

Laughing weakly, Libia shrugged. "It's a...tattoo."

"Where and when did you get it?" He asked, his voice calm. Libia had never seen him like this.

"Ah...I-I got it...a few weeks ago," She winced, turning her eyes to the road and using the excuse not to look at him as she drove forward.

"You got it...with Damon?" He asked her, and she grimaced.

"Yes," She squeaked.

He was silent for a moment, before his hand slammed down on the dashboard, causing her to jump, and the car swerved a bit. "Goddammit I knew he was bad news the minute I saw you get off that motorcycle!" He snapped. I opened my mouth to protest, but he kept on. "What else have you done with him? Hmm? Have you done drugs? Did he let you drive his motorcycle? Have you slept with him?"

Libia's mouth dropped open, and the car jolted to a stop. "Excuse me!" She exclaimed, turning to him. "One, I got a tattoo, not a criminal record! Two, Damon has been nothing but sweet to me! Three, drugs? Are you kidding me Ben? And four, Fucking slept with him? Before I met him, I couldn't even meet people's eyes and you accuse me of fucking sleeping with him?" Her voice raised with each sentence, as her face reddened with each stupid accusation.

"You are not going to see him again. This behavior is only going to get worse!" He growled.

"What behavior?!" She yelled, past furious now. "Being happy? Is that really so bad? I'm free, Ben! Do you know how long I've wanted this tattoo? Can't you see-"

"I won't say it again, Libia! The next time I see him, he's getting nothing but a decked face from me!" He shouted back.

Libia was furious, hands holding the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. She knew how weak and tired her brother was, but for him to lash out like that over a stupid tattoo was beyond over protective. She tried to lower her voice back to normal volume.