by M. Robinson
Their walls were filled with memories of happiness and better times. The way Dr. Pierce looked at his wife in those photos were scenes right out of romantic movies. A picture was worth a thousand words, and theirs spoke volumes.
I wanted a love like that.
One made out of trust, devotion, and respect.
They consumed my mind, and the more I thought about them, the heavier the desire to know where they were became. It was this elephant sitting in the room, this weight hanging on my shoulders, this burden I kept carrying on my back.
Where were they?
Did they know about me?
About their kids? And how much they needed them?
But most importantly, were they coming back?
How could a house filled with so much love, feel so damn empty?
Almost as if one of them were gone.
And the other was just…
Lost.
“Alright, Camila, you need to think about something else. You’re there to watch their kids, not obsess over—” I stopped walking, taking in the scene in front of me, as I opened the door to my apartment.
There was Sean, in all his glory.
And by that, I mean he was butt-ass naked. Laying in my bed, waiting for what?
Me?
“Sean,” I coaxed, on the verge of losing my shit.
“Hey, baby. Been waiting for you to get home, so you can bounce that ass on my cock.”
¿Que es esto?
What is this?
“Have you lost your damn mind?” I slammed the door behind me. “Now, I’m going to have to burn my brand new sheets!”
“Quit fuckin’ wit’ me, Camila.” He sat up, reaching for me. “Come over here and show your man how much you missed him.”
“Ugh! Can you please for the love of God cover your junk! I can’t yell at you properly when your dick is staring at me!”
“Ain’t nothin’ you haven’t seen before.”
“It’s something I never wanted to see again. I’m serious, put some shorts on!” I threw his boxers at him, facing toward the kitchen.
“Why am I gonna throw on my drawers when your ass is supposed to be ridin’ my cock?”
My eyes snapped to his. “My what? Sean, my ass is not going anywhere near your tainted dick. What could make you possibly think that?”
“Your text.”
“My text? What text? I never texted you. I don’t even like you, why would I text yo—” I stopped myself. “Oh, God … I’m going to strangle him!”
“The only thing you gonna to be stranglin’ is my coc—”
“I didn’t text you, Sean! Now get dressed!” I chucked his jeans at his head, nailing him in the face. “Get out!” Followed by his shirt and white wife beater. “Get out. Now!” I was like a woman gone mad, circling around the room grabbing all his shit. One by one throwing everything at his naked body.
A boot here and another there, nicking his dick.
“Son of a bitch!” He doubled over in pain.
“Oops … sorry not sorry.”
“If you didn’t text me, than who did?”
“My other pain in the ass.”
“Are you seein’ someo—”
“Sean,” I bit. “You have one minute to leave, before I show you what I really want to do with that dirty dick of yours.”
“The fuck? Woman, get your ass over here so I can make you scream my name.”
“You know what? On second thought.” I grabbed the lotion from my nightstand and threw it next to him on the bed. “There. You can actually go fuck yourself.”
“Camila!” he roared, as I once again slammed the door behind me. Leaving him in my apartment. Knowing there was no getting through to him. He always thought with his dick and this wouldn’t be any different.
I spent the night at Danté’s, who spent most of the night laughing his ass off at my expense. Thinking the shit Jackson was putting me through was hilarious.
But Sean was my last straw.
Everyone had a limit, and I officially reached mine.
The next morning, Skyler handed me Journey and was on her way out. As soon as I got Little Miss down for her first nap, I went into Satan’s bedroom, not bothering to knock.
“What the hell?” he gritted, jumping off his bed in his gym shorts. “You can’t just barge in my room without knocking.”
“You cannot invade my privacy like that, Jackson!”
“Why not?” he countered with a snide expression. “You do ours.”
“I haven’t done anything to deserve this level of disrespect from you!”
“You sound really bitchy, Camila. Guess ‘Don’t Answer’ on your phone didn’t lay the D down right?”
My mouth dropped open. “You cannot talk to me like that!”
“Alright, then leave.”
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? For me to just quit.”
“Yeah, I would,” he replied with no hesitation what so ever. Walking over to his dresser to grab a t-shirt.
“And then what, Jackson? You’re just going to treat the next nanny the same way? Until what? Your mom comes back? Is that why you can’t stand me? Why you want me to quit so badly? Because you think it’s going to make your mom come home?”
He stepped up to me, getting right in my face. “Shut your mouth, Mary Poppins. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re right, I don’t. All I know is, if I had a kid like you, I’d leave too.” I regretted the words that came out of my mouth as soon as they left my lips.
But it was the way Jackson’s eyes glazed over with so much hurt, that shook me to my core. Now I had crossed the line.
“I didn’t mean tha—”
“Get out!”
“Jackson, come on… you know I didn’t mean that.”
“I don’t know shit.”
“Exactly! Because you haven’t taken the time to actually get to know me. You spend all your time and energy hating someone you won’t even give a chance. I’m just trying to help you.”
“I don’t need your help!”
“Then what, Jackson? You’re just going to spend the rest of your life, not needing anyone? Is that the way you want to live?”
“I said get out!” he snarled through a clenched jaw. His fists pumping at his sides.
“Or what? Huh? What are you gonna do? I’m not scared of you. If anything, I feel bad for you. You push everyone away. Every single person. Including your own family. One day you’re going to need them, and I hope it’s not too late. Because regardless of the bullshit you keep putting me through, I’m not going anywhere. I love your baby sister, and if you gave me half the chance, I could be here for you too.”
He shook his head in disgust and disdain. “I don’t need your pity. So why don’t you go sell your spiel to someone who gives a shit about you? Because we both know, I sure as hell don’t.”
I jerked back, not hiding how much that hurt me. “I’m sorry your parents aren’t around, okay? But it’s not my fault. I didn’t make them go away, Jackson. I was hired because they’re not here. You need to realize that and stop blaming me for things that are out of my control.”
I took a deep breath, stepping back toward the door. Not allowing the anger rolling off my body to take over, even though I wanted nothing more than to shake the shit out of him. Make him see reason.
I wasn’t the bad guy.
He was just treating me like I was.
“Don’t ever touch my phone again. Do you understand me?”
He eyed me up and down, cocking his head to the side. Taking in what I just said with as much curiosity as I had about his parents.
“There’s a reason his name is under ‘Don’t answer’ in my phone. You could have…” I sighed, being at my wits end.
“Who is he?”
“Someone I want nothing to do with.”
“Huh, well then maybe now you’ll understand. Seeing as I want nothing to do with you. Now get out.”
“Yeah, for Journey.”
“And for you.” With that, I turned around and left him there, praying something I said may have gotten through to him.
Knowing I probably wasn’t that lucky.
I tried to calm down as best as I could before going back into the living room, but it was the look on Jagger’s face in the hallway that pulled my attention to him instead.
“He wasn’t always like this, Camila.”
I swear it was the first words this kid had ever spoken to me. And there I was, glued to the floor, waiting for him to say something else. Like he was the Dalai Lama who held all the answers. Jagger kept to himself, didn’t say much. Half the time, I forgot he existed, he was that quiet.
“He’s mad at my dad. It’s not you. Journey really loves you. You make her happy. My mom didn’t have the chance to do that, and Journey is one of the reasons my dad isn’t around.”
I grimaced, understanding what he had just openly shared. I mean, I assumed Dr. Pierce had never held his baby girl, and now I knew he really hadn’t.
But why?
“It doesn’t matter what you say or do, my mom isn’t coming home. That much I can tell you.”
“Is she—”
“I’m sorry Jackson is treating you like this, but Journey isn’t the only one who wants you here.”
“She isn’t?”
“No. I want you here too.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you could fix things.”
“With Jackson?”
“Yeah. And maybe my dad.”
“Jagger, what do you—”
He cut me off by turning around and leaving me there. Walking back into his room.
If that wasn’t the most cryptic conversation I’d ever had, then I didn’t know what was. I spent the entire day in a fog, contemplating my next move. Still feeling as though I was being watched. It didn’t help that the books I’d been telling Journey about were sitting on her book shelf. Staring me right in the face when I went to wake her up. I must not have noticed them before, too pissed at Jackson.
“It doesn’t matter what you say or do, my mom isn’t coming home. That much I can tell you.”
By the end of the day, there was only one thing that I was certain of. I was going to get answers. Even if I had to look for them…
Myself.
Chapter 12
<>Aiden<>
Then: Almost fourteen-years-old
__________
In a two-year span, since the first time Bailey and I were split up, I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. Not from lack of trying, though. Social services fucking moved me again. This time into a shittier house with a foster family that wanted me less than the previous lowlifes I’d been living with before them. At least my old family had lived closer to Bailey’s current foster placement. The last five she’d been moved from were all over the place. It was hard to keep up, but I kept my promise to her.
I found her.
Every. Single. Time.
No matter where she was, I made it a priority to see her, be with her when I could.
Our caseworkers began to change as quickly as our foster homes. Proving age was just another drawback to this fucked up system we lived in.
I’m sure there may have been some good foster homes out there, but we sure as shit never saw them. Those homes wanted newborns, toddlers, and kids who hadn’t experienced too much trauma brought on by their own parents or the foster homes they were being placed in.
Misty was no longer around, becoming just another person who left my life without a moment’s notice. No goodbye, nothing. I never saw her again, neither did Bailey.
All we had was each other.
When my head wasn’t buried in books, studying for all my advanced honor classes in school, I spent my free time trying to figure out how to get to Bailey on my bike.
That day came when I found an old map of the area in Mr. Dale’s so-called office space. I spent every waking moment mapping out the best route. Determined to get to her no matter what stood in my way.
It was Christmas Eve, I had to see my girl.
With my worldly possessions and Bailey’s Christmas present in an old backpack, I pedaled to her. I didn’t trust anyone in the homes I was placed in, not to steal the couple of items I did own. They went everywhere with me. It was hard enough trying to stay invisible to the adults and other foster kids who wanted nothing more than to tear me apart.
Day in and day out.
It didn’t matter that it took over an hour of hardcore pedaling to see her beautiful face again. I’d scour the world for Bailey if that was what it took.
She was mine.
She was all I had.
My best friend, my family, my inside and out.
We tried making it a point to talk on the phone every night at exactly eight o’clock, no matter what. Both of us needing to check in with one another, mostly for our own peace of mind. It made things easier, knowing someone else in the universe loved and cared for you.
When you’re told on a daily basis you’re worthless, you’ll amount to nothing, and no one gives a flying fuck about you.
It’s hard to tell yourself not to believe it.
To fight for a better tomorrow, a brighter future, a home.
Bailey would be my home, and I’d be hers. I’d make it happen, I had to.
For the both of us.
“Aiden, where are we going?” Bailey whined, tugging on my hand to slow down. Trying to get me to answer for what felt like the hundredth time in a matter of minutes. It became evident early on that my girl had no patience, and I swear she only got worse as the years went on.
I checked on her surprise I’d been working on in the woods, before I got relocated again, making sure it was still good to go. Trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, until I actually got to see her standing in front of me, unharmed.
Since the first time we got separated and I could no longer make sure she was alright by seeing her and making sure she was safe, Bailey picked up the habit of making everything seem fine when it wasn’t. So she wouldn’t worry me, never realizing her well-being always worried me.
Our lives were far from fine, and no amount of bullshit coming from her mouth would ever make me think otherwise.
But my girl had a heart of gold, and because of that she’d hide things from me all the time. Like the time one of her foster guardians slapped her across the face for accidentally throwing his cigarettes out. When he should have been grateful she was cleaning up the piss-poor excuse of a roof he claimed he was providing over her head.
She lied, telling me she fell off the bed she shared with two other girls, knowing I’d lose my shit if I knew the truth. Except, Bailey couldn’t lie worth shit. I saw right through it, I always did. Although that didn’t stop her half-ass attempts of trying to keep stuff from me.
Case in point, I had to see her with my own two eyes to believe her.
Needing to make sure she was really fine, and she wasn’t just trying to blow smoke up my ass.
“Bay, don’t worry about it. How many times do I have to tell you? When you’re with me, you never have to worry about anything. I got you, Bay.” I turned and winked at her, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I always got you. Me and you against the world, remember?”
She beamed with a familiar gleam in her eyes that got me through the hard nights. Thinking about Bailey’s smile, her laugh, the way she lit up just for me … that shit got me through a lot of nights, a lot of days, a lot of everything.
I smiled at her one last time and continued walking through the dark woods as she followed close behind, carefully stepping in my tracks.
Mother Nature chose Christmas Eve to unleash her wintery fury in North Carolina, practically shutting down the
whole state. The ground was covered in frost, blanketed by a dusting of snow while huge, soft flakes fell from the night’s sky. The frozen fluff crunched under our boots with each step we treaded deeper into the forest. I held her hand tighter so she wouldn’t slip on the fallen branches coated with a thin layer of ice.
“Aiden, I have to tell you something,” she uttered out of nowhere.
My heart dropped, and I stopped dead in my tracks, causing her body to collide with mine. Fearing the worst.
She instantly called me out on it, “No! It’s not anything like that.” Turning me to face her, fully aware of where my mind went to first.
One of my biggest fears was that Bailey would get molested or raped by a foster guardian or a foster sibling. Which happened to kids…
All. The. Time.
“Bay, don’t start sentences like that,” I stated, my tone still shaken up.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. And it’s Christmas and you’re here, and I just… I don’t… I mean…”
I grabbed her chin, rubbing my thumb against her cheek through the worn, tattered hole in my glove. “What’s up, Bay? You can tell me anything.”
“I know. It’s just…” Her eyes brimmed with fresh tears. “I don’t have a gift for you, Aiden. I’m sorry. I was going to buy you a new hoodie from the thrift store down on Main since you gave me the only one you own when it started getting cold out. But I couldn’t save enough money from walking Nina’s dog from next door.”
My eyes shifted to the hoodie she was talking about. It looked more like a dress on Bailey, but it kept her warm which was all that mattered. She had less clothes than I did, everything she owned was very worn hand-me-downs and not in good shape by any means.
Besides, I loved seeing her in my clothes.
It always did something to me.
“Bay, how many times do I have to tell you to stop walking that damn dog? It walks you. I don’t need a gift from you. I’ll have some extra money next time to hold you over until I see you again.”
“Aiden, you can’t keep giving me money. I need to make my own. You don’t earn that much as it is with whatever you end up doing. It’s not fair—”
