by M. Robinson
“I hate you!” she hysterically wept. “Don’t touch me! I need Aiden! Please don’t take him from me! He’s all I have!”
“I’ll find you, Bailey! I promise I won’t give up until I find you again!”
I watched her lose her mind, trying to grab ahold of the front door, her fingers slipping inch by inch as they made their way out to the SUV. The scene playing out in slow motion as I screamed.
The cop let me take out my anger and despair, holding onto me, knowing if he didn’t…
I’d fall apart right then and there.
There was nothing left for me to do.
Nothing I could say would change the outcome of this day.
The day…
Bailey and I were separated from each other, possibly…
Forever.
Chapter 10
<>Camila<>
Now
__________
“Journey, what are we going to do about your brother Jackson? How do we make him accept me?”
It’d been a month since I started working at the Pierces, and still no sight of Mr. or Mrs.
Nothing.
Not so much as a hello or a goodbye.
Most of my time was spent with Journey, quickly becoming best friends with the baby girl who had already stolen my heart. She was always the only one who was actually excited to see me walk through the door. Waiting for me with open arms and lots of sloppy kisses.
Skyler wasn’t lying. From day one when we met, Journey decided I was her person. Taking it upon herself to choose me.
In the evenings, she’d start fussing like an hour or so before she knew I was leaving, making it nearly impossible for me to walk out the door. Clinging onto me for dear life, and having an absolute meltdown when Skyler reached for her to relieve me.
The truth was, I loved her as much as she loved me. Deciding to stay the night in the guest bedroom more often than not, so I wouldn’t have to leave her. She’d sleep in my arms, making our unbreakable bond I’d never experienced with any other babies prior to her only get stronger. There was something about Little Miss that captured my heart and soul.
And she was aware of it too.
Which worried me, a lot. Her parents weren’t around to nurture her. Journey’s mother was supposed to be the one bonding with her, not me. She should be hearing her mother’s voice, having tummy time with her, teaching her to hold her own bottle, soothing her during teething, be here for her first tooth. The first time she rolled over for me, the first time she sat up for me.
The first…
The first…
The first….
But with that said, their absence didn’t stop me from experiencing these pivotal moments with her. At the end of the day, someone had to. I didn’t want her to forget about her parents, I made it a point to show her the pictures on the walls at least a few times a day. Always stressing who was her mom and dad, and what they looked like so she would know when she saw them again.
I hadn’t seen or heard from Sean since I threw all his money out my door, knowing he would show up when I least expected him too.
To top it all off, Jackson’s words from a month ago still haunted me on a daily basis.
“They were my mom’s.”
The urge to snoop and find answers for myself became a ticking timebomb in my body. It was only a matter of time before my curiosity would get the best of me. I needed answers. I couldn’t go on like this or shake the feeling as if I was being watched.
Now, I know that sounds absolutely absurd.
But was it?
There were things that kept happening that had me not only questioning my sanity, but my patience.
For instance, I was telling Journey the other day how much I loved chocolate and kept forgetting to bring a box of Dove ice cream for her to try. My favorite. The next morning when I came into work, there in the freezer was a box of Dove ice cream.
Or the other time I grabbed the diaper rash cream, realizing it was the one I told Journey about a few days ago. Not her usual brand. This one was gentler on her soft, baby skin.
“How does this keep happening, huh?”
Journey smiled, a huge smile. The kind that lit up the room as if she already knew the answer.
“Are you trying to tell me something? Can you talk and you’ve been playing me for a fool?”
“Gah!” She kicked her chubby legs.
Then there was the obvious. Jackson Pierce completely despised me. Without even trying, I’d become his number one rival, his mortal enemy. I’m talking Tom vs. Jerry, North Korea vs. South Korea, Batman vs. Joker, take no prisoners type of foes.
He was doing everything and anything in his power to get rid of me. The boy put me through the ringer each week with some sort of new war tactic to take me down, and to keep me there. He hated me in every sense of the word, and I knew he wouldn’t stop until he succeeded in executing me indefinitely.
And by that, I meant me quitting.
Journey really was the only ally I had in this house other than Skyler, but she didn’t know what Jackson was doing to me. If I told her, it meant the little shit won, and there wasn’t a chance I was going to let that happen.
Being raised in a house full of kids running around all over the place, I learned a thing or two about retaliation. I’d been through far worse than a demon spawn trying my patience.
My brothers taught me at an early age what survival was. They’d babysit me till my parents got home, pulling stunt after stunt to see what a five-year-old girl could endure. They used to take a large cardboard box laying around and line it with a bunch of pillows. I’d get in, put on my Papa’s motorcycle helmet, and hug my knees to my chest.
I remember being so nervous but wouldn’t voice it, I was tough, and I wanted to prove I could withstand anything. They’d close the box up tight so all I could see was darkness besides a little ping of light coming through a small air hole.
Suddenly, the box would move along the floor beneath me and I’d hear my brothers laugh and whisper, “Hold on tight.”
Next thing I knew, I was flying down a flight of stairs, bouncing side to side. Sometimes even flipping several times, landing at the bottom of the stairs in a heap of cardboard and pillows.
At least they thought to protect my head, I gave them credit for that. It was their idea of fun, convincing me at the age of five that fear was simply unacceptable. Never back down from anyone.
Ever.
Jackson’s scare tactics never ceased to amaze me, though. I swear they were getting more and more inventive as the weeks went by. His creativity knew no bounds.
The first week it was the YouTube video which he did end up taking down. Only after it already had thousands of views on it.
Although, it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. In the long run, it worked in my favor. When I was bartending at Danté’s club, if I didn’t stay at the Pierces, I was making a killing. My YouTube fans were loyal and big tippers.
However, it was the second week that genuinely took me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting him to continue our World War III battle. The little shit tricked me, using his charm and my stupidity, thinking we’d reached a peace treaty.
Oh, how wrong I was…
“Little Miss, I know you want me to hold you, but I have to cook,” I explained, trying to calm down an unhappy baby in her glider. “I can’t hold you and cook, it’s too dangerous. I’m making fajitas and the oil—”
“I’ll watch the stove for you while you tend to Journey,” Jackson offered, catching me off guard.
I turned to find him leaning against the fridge with his arms folded over his chest.
“You will?” I replied, looking him in the eyes.
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
He smiled, showing me his pearly white teeth. “It’s the least I could do after what I did to you … you know, with the video.”
“Yeah, that was kind of a dick move.”
He narrowed h
is eyes at me, appreciating I was talking to him like a man and not like a child. Jackson was no kid, he didn’t even look like most almost-thirteen-year-olds. He was definitely big for his age.
“What can I say? I can be an asshole.”
“Clearly.”
He smiled again, this time his eyes beamed. “You didn’t deserve it. You’re only here because of Skyler, we’re just a job to you.”
“What?” I shook my head. “No, Jackson, that’s not true at all. You’re not just a job to me. I’m here because I want to be. I want to help you. Your family. It’s obvious there’s more going on here than anyone is letting on. I mean for starters, where are your pare—”
He abruptly pushed off the fridge, ending our conversation by saying, “Journey needs you now. I’ll watch the food.”
Journey let out the loudest wail, agreeing with him.
“Alright, I’m going to go change her diaper. Just yell if you—”
“I can handle food, Camila.”
“Right, okay. I’ll be back.”
“Take your time.”
That should have been my first indication, the sweet talking, the smiling, the understanding … he was trying too hard. And I fell for his act.
Hook, line, and sinker.
The little terrorist dumped every hot sauce imaginable into the food I was cooking. I spent over three days trying to get my taste buds back. Did I fail to mention, I was also pissing hot sauce when I went to the bathroom? Though nothing outdid the hours I spent trying to get the fire sensation out of my mouth and nose.
After, I threw up, out of said mouth and nose.
I was a hot mess, literally.
As retribution, I fed it to him the next day. Sneaking it into his sandwich for lunch at school. Carelessly forgetting to pack him a drink with it.
Ever since then he’s packed his own lunch.
Jackson: 2
Me: 2
Even battlefield.
By the third week, there was a mutual understanding that our war had only just begun. Jackson decided to take it upon himself to play professor and scribbled and messed up all my anatomy notes for my nursing class. I could have strangled him, they were the only notes I had to study from.
Needless to say, I failed the impromptu quiz the next day.
While I sulked over the fact that it was the first test I’d ever bombed, I savored in the thought of Jackson’s face when he opened his gym bag for football practice. Wrapped in his jersey was an entire box of tampons covered in Kool-Aid, but he didn’t know that.
The expression on his face as soon as he rushed through the door later that day, darting straight to his precious room, was enough to have Journey and I laughing our cute little booties off for hours on end.
“Got ‘em, Journey!” I celebrated, blowing raspberries on her belly.
Jackson: 3
Me: 3
Once again, we were even.
He should have known better than to mess with someone twice his age. I was older, wiser, and knew how to fight dirty if need be.
Call me the Yoda of comebacks. It was the only way I survived being raised in a home filled with boys, who were all jokesters and loved to pick on girls for shits and giggles.
We were now into the fourth week, and I’d been waiting for another one of his bombs to drop every single day. It was Friday and still nothing.
Had he given up?
Did he surrender?
Or was I going to go home and step in a pile of shit he may have planted in my apartment?
A little farfetched but who knew with this kid.
I may have been the head of the Jedi, but he had Luke Skywalker’s power to put up one hell of a fight with no end in sight.
And we had no Darth Vader playing mediator.
Jagger kept his head down with a smile and a laugh, and Journey…
Well, she was too little to understand anything other than shaking her booty when she heard music blaring.
The girl loved to dance.
We had that in common.
“But, Aunt Skyler,” a girl’s voice hummed through the halls from the kitchen, while I changed Journey’s diaper in her nursery.
“Who’s that, Little Miss?”
She baby babbled, answering my question.
“Oh really?”
“Bah!”
“Alright, alright, let’s go see who’s here.” I picked her up and set her on my hip.
“Harley, we’re just stopping in for a few minutes, I have to check on Camila before I come back for the night to relieve her,” Skyler replied as we made our way down the hall to the kitchen. “Then we can go.”
“But I hate Jackson! I already have to see him at school in most of my classes. I don’t want to see him after school too.”
“I know, sweetie, but you both need to suck it up and get over it.”
“It’s not me! It’s him. He’s evil.”
Couldn’t disagree with you there…
“He’s just going through a lot, be patient with him.”
“Be patient? Aunt Skyler, he’s been evil since before his mom—”
“Camila, there you are,” Skyler announced, looking over at us walking into the room.
Since before his mom what?
“Camila, this is my niece Harley. Harley, this is Camila, Jackson’s—”
“Own private stripper,” he interrupted with a cocky grin on his face, leaning against the wall.
“Jackson Pierce! Enough of that,” Skyler scolded, but I didn’t pay him any mind.
It’d only bait him.
He wasn’t trying to hurt my feelings, it was Harley’s he was after this time. She was the same girl from the bus stop.
“Jealous?” Jackson added, arching an eyebrow at her.
What was up with these two?
“You wish,” she sassed, folding her arms over her chest.
“Oh my God, give it a rest. Why can’t you guys learn to get along for the sake of our families?” Skyler questioned, coming in between them. “It would mean so much to your Uncle Noah and your father, Jackson.”
“You mean my father who’s never around?”
“He’s around, Jackson.”
“For who? Cuz it sure as shit ain’t for us.”
“Jackson! Watch your mouth. Your baby sister’s first word is going to be a cussword with how much profanity comes out of your mouth.”
“It’s not any worse than what comes out of Noah’s mouth.”
“My husband doesn’t speak like that when Journey is around.”
“Bullshit, he did with us.”
Harley scoffed out a giggle, smirking in that smitten kind of way.
Oh, she likes him.
It wasn’t until Skyler left the room, giving up on reprimanding Jackson, that I realized he liked her too. I listened to them from the living room, pretending to mind my own business.
“Hey, Harley, you have something in your hair,” he told her.
“I do?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Where?”
“Right here.”
Seconds later an ear-piercing shriek vibrated through the walls, so loud that it could be heard by the neighbors.
“Jackson Pierce! You put gum in my hair!”
I could tell by his amused tone, he was lying when he replied, “No, that’s what was in your hair.”
“You’re such a liar!”
“Relax, it’s just gum.”
“I’m going to have to cut my hair now!”
“Maybe it will make your face look better.”
She gasped. “There is nothing wrong with my face!”
“Yeah, if you’re into ugly girls.”
“I am not ugly!”
“Says who, your parents? They’re supposed to say stuff like that.”
She gasped again before screaming, “I hate you!”
“Yeah, well it’s mutual. Here, I’ll help you cut your hair.”
“Get away from me!”
Well at least it wasn’t me today.
Harley: 0
Jackson: 1
Chapter 11
<>Camila<>
Now
__________
Later that day, I headed straight home from the Pierces.
Exhausted from the week and ready to change into jammies, watch TV, and chill. I was in the mood for some chick-flick drama. You know the kind that made you re-evaluate life and think love at first sight wasn’t just a fairytale they sold to the masses.
I hadn’t been in a relationship since Sean, and I wouldn’t exactly call that a healthy one. We’d always had problems, standing on two opposite ends of the spectrum of life.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved him, but I guess you could say I was never head over heels in love with him. He was the only man I’d ever been with, romantically and sexually. Though he was never there for me emotionally or mentally. He didn’t know how to be those things, nor did he care to try.
He was a man in many aspects of life, except when it came to what I needed and wanted. He was a child. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. Because I did.
I was lonely.
I missed the companionship, a man on top of me, skin on skin contact. Sex was never our problem, most days you couldn’t drag us out of the bedroom. However, that was never enough. I was never enough.
Our relationship was never enough for him.
He ran around on me more times than I care to remember. Several times I caught him mid-act.
What does that say about me?
I gave him all I had, and it was never good enough.
“Baby, you’re my queen. I love you. You know that.”
“You love me so much you decided to fuck the girl next door?”
“I’m a man, baby. I got needs.”
I don’t know what made me think about Sean, maybe it was the fact that all I saw all day long were pictures of the Pierces, living their happily ever after through images on the walls and when I pointed them out to Journey.
