Shackled Lily

SHACKLED

LILY

T. L. GRAY

Copyright © 201
3 Tammy Gray

All rights reserved.

ISBN-10: 148404214X

ISBN-13:
978-1484042144

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A special thanks once again to Kristina Krause at Redzenradish Photogray for allowing me to use her beautiful tiger lily photograph.

To Josh Webb of Root Radius, you are a marketing genius. Thank you so much for my amazing book cover and all the marketing direction you have given me.

A special thanks to my
dear friend, Angie, who allowed me to brainstorm and fret with her over this book. Your input truly made the final product so much better.

To my sister, Angel,
who once again edited my work, encouraging me along the way. Your invaluable input dramatically improved my first attempt.

To some amazing media folks, Brandon and Karen, thank you so much for making the promo video better than I could have ever imagined.

To my faithful beta readers, Abby, Karen and Tonya, thank you so much for your advice and ideas.

And to my wonderful friend, Mandie, who was willing to be the face of Issy for me. You made the character come alive with your beauty inside and out.

Finally, to my amazing husband and children, thanks for supporting my dream world, allowing me to pour my heart and soul into every word.

For my
husband, Todd, a man who challenges and inspires me every day

PROLOgue

New Year’s Day…

They say drowning is a euphoric experience; one where the victim feels complete serenity before death finally takes her. They may be right.

The expanse around me felt airy as it gracefully kept my body suspended. I opened my heavy eyes to look through the nothingness and could see the water’s surface above me, ripples gliding in rhythm as my father’s face sat distorted by the movement of the water. I reached up for him, but my limbs refused to move. Water…there was so much water. It paralyzed my movement, making me panic until I realized I could still breathe.

My hand suddenly felt warm. Was someone with me? I couldn’t see my father’s face anymore as I sunk deeper and deeper into the depths. The waves echoed in my ears, enticing me to close my eyes and let go, but I didn’t want to sleep…too many dreams…too much pain. I had buried all of them so far below the surface, and now I was trapped there, forced to relive them all over again.

1. Memories

Seven years earlier…

Age: 13

I kissed my father’s cheek as I slid out of the passenger side of his black Mercedes. “Bye Daddy!” I beamed, sending him a small wave.

“Don’t forget about dinner. I’ll be here at six sharp to pick you up. I have a big surprise for you tonight.” He seemed excited
, and my heart soared at the prospect. “Be sure to wear your new shoes,” he continued with a wink.

“Of course! I don’t plan to ever take these off.” I giggled as I admired my new present. They were the first pair of heels I had been allowed to wear…a gift saved for my thirteenth birthday. The high-end shoes had cost a small fortune, but Daddy said it was worth it to see the smile on my face. Jessica would be insanely jealous when I wore them to school on Monday, and I grinned knowing I would enjoy every second of it. Maybe Tucker Murphy would notice them too and finally ask me to the spring dance in two weeks. He had been hanging around my locker lately, and I was sure he intentionally ran his fingers over my bottom, although he claimed it was an accident.

“Happy birthday, sweetie, I’ll see you tonight,” my dad called through his open window as he headed down the drive.

I couldn’t wait until tonight! Daddy had been hinting to his big surprise all day, and I was sure he was going to tell me that he and my mom were getting back together.  He had been coming over several days a week for the last month, and Mom even started getting that sparkle back in her eyes. This morning when he picked me up, they had retreated to her bedroom for ove
r an hour, and her face was flushed when they came out. I may be young, but I was old enough to know that was a good sign.

“Mom!” I called as I shut the front door. “Where are you? You have to see my new shoes!” She wasn’t in the living room where she usually sat reading a book, nor was she out in the back yard working on the garden. I ran upstairs to my room and threw the rest of my bags on the bed. The pink flower pattern clashed with the blue from my bags
, and I noticed how clean my room looked. Mom must have been in there this morning because everything was perfectly in order, right down to my fuzzy pink and purple rug that had earlier been covered with the latest Teen magazines.

“Mom!” I yelled again, running down the stairs. She hated when I yelled across the house, but I didn’t care. I was irritated with her. Not only was she not waiting for me when I got home, but she had been in my room when I specifically asked her not to go in there.

I stormed through her bedroom door and took note of her pristinely made bed. Fresh flowers had also been cut and placed in every available vase around her room. Wow, she really must have been in a cleaning mood this morning.

I sat on the bed and huffed as I looked over to her closed bathroom door. “Mom, I know you are in there. If you don’t come out in two minutes, I
’m coming in, and I don’t care if it is your ‘sacred bath time.’ You hear me, Mom? I’m coming in!” I was fully annoyed at this point, wanting so much for my mom to see my new shoes. The silence in the room was echoing, and I finally had enough. I stormed to the bathroom and swung open the door, ready to give her a piece of my mind.

The scene before me was paralyzing as I felt my body sway with nausea. The world became a tunnel as the picture before me shifted, coming into focus through the lens of a camera. Blood…there was so much blood.

I heard screaming and turned to see who else was with me, but there was no one…only the haunted eyes of the woman in front me. I backed away, unable to stare at the blood still dripping from her lifeless wrists.

Adrenaline took over as I ran to the phone. It rang and rang until I heard my father’s official voicemail on the other line. I slammed the phone down and called again. He always had his phone.

“What is so important you have to keep calling me?” my dad’s voice snapped when he finally picked up on my third attempt.

“Blood everywhere…” I whispered, unable to recognize my own voice.

“Kaitlyn? Is that you?” My dad’s voice moved from harsh to concerned in a matter of seconds.

“Blood, Daddy, so much blood. Bathtub. Mom’s eyes…” I couldn’t speak, my mind only seeing the scene from which I had fled.

“Kaitlyn, stay right there. I’m turning around now and calling 911. Don’t go in there again, you hear me?”

I nodded and sunk to the floor, letting the phone slip out of my fingers. The next few hours were like a whirlwind, sirens blaring, my mom’s lifeless body being rushed to the ambulance, red stained water making a trail from the bathroom to the front door. I felt weightless as my father picked me off the floor and into his car. The ride was bumpy in the back seat, but I couldn’t feel anything so it didn’t matter.

The hospital was even scarier. Doctors prodded and poked at me, talking to each other as if I wasn’t in the room. They used words such as trauma and shock and placed large blankets around my body. The bed was hard, and the blankets itched my sensitive skin. I just wanted to go home and curl up in my soft pink sheets. I wanted to hold Mr. B., the teddy bear I had had since I was three years old, and pretend this was all a horrible dream.

My father was by my side when I finally woke up. The world was coming into focus again, and I could see the lines on his face as he reached for my hand.

“Kaitlyn, I’m here, baby. Everything’s going to be ok,” he said softly.

“Where’s mom? Is she…is she...” I couldn’t finish as the visions of her in the tub came rushing back to my mind.

“Shhh. She’s going to be fine. Doctors expect her to make a full recovery. They are just going to keep her here for a few weeks to make sure she gets better.”

I knew what my father was saying. They were going to make sure she wouldn’t hurt herself again. It didn’t make sense. Everything was going so well.

“Why?” I whispered, searching my dad for answers.

“Kaitlyn, sometimes your mom gets sad, but she is going to get better. We are going to make sure she gets some help and never has to feel like that again. Meanwhile, you are going to get to stay with me for a while. Is that ok?” His voice was so soft and comforting, and I reached up to hold him.

“Yes, Daddy, that’s exactly where I want to be,” I assured him as he stroked my hair. My mom would get better, and he would bring her home too. We would be a family again, and Mom wouldn’t be sad anymore.

An hour later, my new shoes sat on my lap as my dad wheeled me out to the car. I didn’t know why they were insisting I ride in the wheelchair, but I didn’t argue. The Mercedes was a glorious site when the doors opened, and I reached down to put my shoes on, ready to forget this horrible day. My father had sent someone over to my house to pick up my things so I wouldn’t have to go back there, allowing us to head straight out to Lake Glenville where Daddy’s new house awaited us.

When he and my mom separated last year after “the incident,” he had stayed in hotels until he finally purchased his three-story monstrosity just a few months ago. I had been there only one time when he first moved in to pick out my room and meet with the interior decorator who would be furnishing the house. I hadn’t wanted a new room and told her to do whatever she wanted. I never saw the final product, but my dad said it was “lovely.” Now, I was going to have to stay there for weeks and my stomach turned at the thought.

The trees passed by in a blur as we sat in silence for the duration of the drive. Periodically, I heard my father barking orders to various people on the phone, but I kept my focus on the thin piece of glass which separated myself from the outside world.

We turned the last corner before flying down the long driveway, and I was struck with how much had changed in just a few months. There was now green grass and plush landscaping where dirt and rock had previously been. The house had been repainted a butter yellow color making it look much newer and more welcoming than when I had first seen it.

Dad
dy parked the car and opened my door, asking me if I could walk.

“I’m not an invalid, Daddy,” I huffed, tired of being so coddled. I swung my legs out of the car and found my balance on my new heels. Once stable, I stood with all the grace my mom had taught me to.

My father pulled me in for big hug and muttered, “That’s my girl.”

He was pulling my suitcases out of the trunk, and I turned to walk towards the front door, when once again the world turned on its axis. This time, the scene was beautiful and came in the form of the most handsome boy I had ev
er seen. He strolled by me, offering just a slight smile and wink as he approached my dad. I couldn’t stop my head from following his movements as I absorbed his flawless frame. Next to my dad, he seemed lanky, but compared to Tucker Murphy…well, there was no comparison. In fact, I was sure that every boy I met in the future would pale next to his tan skin and soft brown hair.

“I’ll get that, sir,” the boy offered, taking the suitcases from my dad. His voice was as smooth as honey, and I felt it melt into my chest and roll down to the pit of my stomach where little butterflies began to flutter around.

My dad handed him my suitcase and let him finish unloading the bags. He placed his strong arm around my shoulder and began guiding me to the front door. I subtly looked back at the boy and caught how his muscled arm flexed as he pulled the trunk closed. My cheeks immediately burned when he caught me looking, and I quickly turned my head to see where my dad was leading me.

We stepped into the foyer and my breath caught. It was ghastly! Awful, horrendous, extreme and every other adjective I could find to describe the obsessively ornate décor. What had my father done? The beautiful hardwood floors had been replaced with shiny gold marble and the pristine white walls were now a bronzed plaster with multiple layers of crown molding.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked proudly as I looked around the room.

“What happened to it?” was all I could mutter.

My dad shook his head at me and scowled. “You’ll appreciate this stuff more when you’re older. Come on, let’s go see your room.”

I couldn’t imagine ever being old enough to like this place. Never, never, never! It was everything my mom hated. There was no way she would live in this…I don’t know what my father was thinking!

My room was on the second floor and was more like a suite than a bedroom. I closed my eyes twice when I saw it, hoping the view would somehow improve in those precious few seconds. The walls were an antique white with gold trim around the edges and along the walls forming an ornate lacy pattern. I glanced up at the high, white ceiling and shook my head when I saw a recessed circle painted completely gold with a brown crisscross pattern. In the middle hung a large white chandelier with bulbs made to look like candles.

My dad pushed me into the room despite my protests and walked over to the window to let some more light in. Why he wanted to see this place more clearly was beyond me. It was a toss up which was worse, the ceiling or the large king sized bed which took up a good portion of the room. The headboard ran floor to ceiling in the same white and gold pattern as the walls, only it was adorned with rich silk curtains that came together at the base of a shiny diamond crown.

“What do you think?” my dad asked walking around the room. “I told her you would want some pink.” My dad was referring to the hot pink bedspread that covered the gold sheets. It was also the chosen color of each piece of furniture in the sitting area. I hated hot pink. It was a trashy color with no class, and a far cry from the Victoria Secret pink I was used to.

“You want me to sleep here?” I asked incredulously as he approached me.

“Kaitlyn, I know you’ve been through a lot, but this is your home now. I want you to feel comfortable. A lot of care and thought went into this room. I’d appreciate it if you were a little more grateful.”

“Thought and care? By whom, Daddy? Because anyone who knows me would know that I would NEVER like this room!” I stomped my foot while I spoke looking all the spoiled child that I knew I was acting. My dad’s face got real tight
, and I was sure he was about to scold me when my perfect boy walked through the door to drop off my things. I felt the heat rise to my face again as I watched him walk across the wood floors and over to the round gold and pink rug by my bed. I noted the way he walked, confident and sure, and how he glanced around the room just slightly as he set down my bags. I wondered what he thought of this place, and if he could sense the tension in the room when he walked in.

My dad took his angry eyes off me for one second to address the source of my erratic heartbeat. “Grant, when you’re done, I need you to get Wayne Johnson on the phone right away. Don’t let him try and push you to his son. I want him…only him. You got it?”

“Yes sir, right away,” he answered and rushed back out of the room, but not before momentarily catching my eyes with his. It was less than a second, but the electricity that shot through me in that moment left me shivering well after he was gone.

I spun back around to my dad. “Who is that?”

“That’s Grant, my new assistant. His father is an old friend of mine and had to relocate to New York to handle pressing business.”

“Why didn’t he go with him?” I asked, trying to sound annoyed by his presence instead of thrilled.