Multiple Offender (Chaotic Neutral, book one)

A Little Bit of This And a Little Bit of That.

After the day that she had spent together with Happy, she had the biggest grin on her face. Again, the bubbling feeling in her stomach was one that wasn't familiar, but soon it came to be one that she felt tons when she was around the tall, bald man. While all Lilith had on her mind was the one, specific son, she had to part ways and spend time with another.

She wasn't the closest with her father, not even in the slightest. But, he had shown, or tried to, that he did in the end, care about her. The abandonment that she undoubtedly felt as a child, wasn't one he brought onto her, on purpose. Or so he claimed. She knew that she loved Bobby, in some way, at least. She knew that the love for the man came from her knowing that he was the only blood family that she had left.

After that Lilith lived for about a year in foster care, in a more than screwed up foster system that keeps parent-less children in their care. All for the money, with kids that were only barely kept alive. Nice one, America. That when a lot of her current personality came in, in ways, she was considered lucky. A nice Italian family adopted the girl, initially, they looked for a little boy. A mother that couldn't bare children, and their less than clean husband, doing his best to keep his wife happy. The girl, who, just two minutes prior to standing in line for her age group, had bitten another kid in the home, either starting or finishing a fight ,she couldn't quite remember and was getting scolded, was chosen to go home with the "nice" family. Somehow, they saw potential in her, and her troublesome ways.

Her mind started to go back, thinking on all the things shes witnessed , all the memories that laid in the back of her mind and all kinds of stories that lie behind the tattooed covered scars that littered her body. Shaking her head, as if to physically get rid of it all, burying it down further, she didn't have time to reminisce at that moment.

Lilith got off of her ass, and started to get ready for dinner with her father. Subtle excitement riddled her as she got dressed, the melodies of Rob Zombie blaring through her apartment. Keeping it light on the makeup, her brown hair curled naturally, as per usual, down her back and she went to get dressed. Pulling on a set of blue distress jeans on her legs, and a white wife beater top, her leather jacket being pulled over. Again, a constant in the woman's more than casual wardrobe.

With her boot clad feet, she headed out and climbed onto her bike, planning on purchasing more bikes to ride and work on soon. She sped off quickly, heading off to the restaurant that she was meeting her father at. A dinner with her father, nothing weird about that, was there? Even though she still felt rather.. nervous about it, not knowing exactly how to bond with her father, or what he really wanted from her? Was it wrong of her to have suspicions? Perhaps. but ehr brain worked no other way.

Parking in front, and hopping off the steel horse, she headed for the doors. She hadn't seen another bike, assuming her dad rode his there and he wasn't there yet. She walked passed the threshold of the double door, and was sat at a table for the two, now all she had to do was wait for him to arrive.

Subtle fear of him not actually showing up started to lure within her, if Bobby made her look like a fool, in a town where she didn't know very many people, she'd be more than pissed off at the man. After about twenty or so minutes, she had just about had enough of waiting, then she heard the rumble of motorcycles, around her that turned heads, the same ones that turned when she entered. Though, this time, more than the males attention was caught, and presumably for different reasons. The sons were broadly known, and they had their reputation, and undoubtedly, so would she after this dinner. It a small town, so, word got out fast.

Bobby walked hurried passed all observing eyes, ignoring each glare and glance as he did so, rushing to his obviously pissed daughter. He looked as if he was prepared to start apologising to her, getting some excuse of some sort ready for her to hear. Which he was, her suspicions were correct, with her arms crossed over her chest, she waited as he started to ramble.