Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Cassius
I sleep like shit. Waking up on Harmon’s lap was…
confusing. It wasn’t bad, it was… strange.
Not what we agreed to do, yet it somehow happened.
I’m not mad about it, it was an accident on both our parts.
I can only assume he fell asleep too, considering so much time had passed.
If he wanted it to happen, he’d say it. Offer me more money to stay the night or something.
When I left his house, I stopped at the first gas station I saw to get a coffee, because I wasn’t sure I’d make it home without passing back out.
I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time.
The way he was rubbing my hair, so gently it almost tickled, it was comforting.
Tender. I fell into a deep sleep, and even though I was hunched over his lap, it was a good sleep.
I didn’t realize I liked to have my hair played with before Harmon.
But because I sucked down a coffee to make it home, I could hardly sleep when I got there, which made waking up this morning to bring Chrissy to school a grade-A bitch.
Still, I did it because she was excited about walking into school with a donut and coffee.
The little things…
It’s silly, but I get it. She wants to fit in.
How many other high school kids walk into school with a coffee?
I bet that’s normal. Our whole town isn’t poor, just a portion of it.
I bet a lot of the kids walk in with fancy shit, and Chrissy just wants to be like everyone else.
She doesn’t say it, but I know she already feels like she doesn’t fit in because of her seizures.
Having to wear a medical bracelet was something that bothered her for a long time.
She finally got used to it, but having seizures in school, in front of the kids, didn’t help.
They’re afraid of her, in a way. Though, I know it’s not her—it’s the situation.
I can’t fault them because it is scary, but what I can fault them for is not accepting her for it anyway.
Chrissy pretends to be strong, acts like she doesn’t care, but I see it.
I know she worries about what they think.
I know that about her because I’m a pro at pretending too.
We all are. And we all know the other is bullshitting, but we let each other get away with it because what else do we have?
What’s the point of calling each other out?
It doesn’t matter. It’s not important. We just hold our heads high and move on.
So, I get Chrissy her iced coffee and her donut, then drop her off at school. When I get home, I go back to sleep for as long as I can. When I wake up, the witch is in.
I walk out of the bathroom to go into my bedroom to change, but before I get there, she’s calling my name. I can tell by the tone that it won’t be good. But it’s better to answer her than ignore her.
“Yeah?” I call, gritting my teeth and turning to face her. She’s sitting on the couch, wearing a shirt that’s hanging off her shoulder and leggings that have cigarette burn holes in them.
“Heard you were moving out.”
“What?” I ask, my heart pounding harder. “Where the fuck did you hear that?”
“Don’t swear at me, you little prick.” She takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke toward the ceiling while poking the butt out into the ashtray on the coffee table that’s already too full.
Ash and butts fall onto the stained table.
“You think you can move out and not pay rent anymore? You trying to fuck me over or something?”
“I never said that.”
I don’t know how she found out… what she’s heard or who she heard it from. I haven’t said anything to anyone. Sure, Abe knows, but he doesn’t talk to my mom. Maybe Eddie overheard me and Abe talking about it? Gossip travels through this park faster than an STD.
She gets up, pointing her finger in my face. “You better keep your ass in line, or you won’t like what happens.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I raised a lying piece of shit,” she mutters, turning away and going into her room, slamming the door behind her.
The faster I get out of here, the better. She can fuck right off and figure this shit out herself.
I change and leave, pissed that I don’t have enough time to stop for food, which is what my plan was when I fell asleep, since there’s not a damn thing to eat in the house.
I got a second debit card for Cammy to use and told her to guard it with her life.
She’s been sleeping with it in her bra and taking it with her everywhere.
We can’t risk mom finding it, which is why I keep mine in the car.
Not the smartest thing to do here, but she’s more likely to steal it if she finds it than someone else.
And I tuck the key into my pillow case when I sleep, facing the opening against the wall so she can’t find it if she comes in to snoop around.
It wouldn’t be the first time she snooped while we were sleeping.
I’ve woken up too many times to her going through our room, digging through things.
Sometimes she wakes us up on purpose, yelling about hiding shit from her, and other times she tries to be sneaky about it.
I always know though. When you grow up like this, you don’t sleep great, because you always have to know what’s going on around you.
It’s so fucking pathetic that this is how we have to live.
I was stuck on the idea of a house, but after what just happened, not sleeping great, and being hungry—something I haven’t dealt with in a while—I just want to get the fuck out. I want to be done with it.
I park in my normal spot, beside Harmon’s Audi, and hurry inside. I’m not late, but I’m running on time and I don’t like that. I’ve always been early, giving myself enough time to prepare. I don’t want to rush, yet here I am doing exactly that.
Shouting catches my attention when I pass by the staircase on the way to my room, so I stop and listen.
It’s coming from upstairs, but it’s too muffled to hear exactly what’s being said.
I make out a few words here and there. Looks like there’s a lawsuit with his company.
I can’t tell which end of it they’re on by what I can hear, but Harmon is pissed.
I don’t know this house well enough. Because if I did, I’d have moved to a better spot. The moment the door upstairs opens, Harmon steps out and his eyes are on me. He pulls the phone from his ear and jabs at the screen with his thumb.
“Are you supposed to be standing there?” he snaps, hurrying down the steps.
Emotion rolls over me immediately. My face gets hot. I don’t say anything, just duck my head and hurry to my room.
He’s never snapped at me like that before, though it serves me right for eavesdropping. I shouldn’t have been listening to anything he was talking about. That’s private and none of my business. It’s not why I’m here. I’m being paid to do a job.
I lie on the bed to catch my breath and push away the emotion clogging my throat. There’s no room here for emotions.
There’s a soft knock on the door, and of course it’s him. No one else is here—ever. I consider ignoring it, but what good will that do? It’ll only make it worse when I have to see him shortly anyway. So, I get up and go to the door, pulling it open.
“I’m sorry, Cassius,” he says before the door is pulled open all the way. “I should not have spoken to you that way. I should not have taken out my frustration on you. It was completely inappropriate, and all I can do is apologize.”
I hold his gaze, not sure what to say.
“I understand if you’d like to leave—take the day off. I’d still pay—”
“I’m fine,” I say firmly. “I can handle it.”
He steps closer. “But you shouldn’t have to. It wasn’t right of me.”
“I’ve dealt with a lot worse. Trust me, I’m fine. Bounces right off my skin.” I give him a smile, but nothing on his face tells me he believes me.
“Cassius—”
“I don’t want to leave,” I say quickly. When he just stares at me, still unbelieving, I add, “I’ve had an awful day, and I, sort of, uh, need this.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am.”
“Very well, then. I’ll see you shortly.”
He turns on his heel and heads down the hallway. I watch him for a few seconds before closing the door and reading the schedule while pulling off my clothes to change.
I barely have any time to spare as I hurry to the kitchen and gather everything needed for dinner.
I’m still setting it out on the table when he comes into the room, so I do my best to be quick while doing it right.
When everything is in its place, I kneel on the floor in my spot, where the mat is.
I have one in each room now. He told me he always wants me to kneel now, not just when I’m told.
If he wants me to do something else, then he’ll tell me.
He says nothing as he sits, though he does feed me half of his food. Part of me wants to deny it, not wanting it to be an apology, but the other half is starving, so I accept it. Plus, it’s not my job to deny him. I give him what he wants, despite my stubbornness.
Harmon finishes eating and tells me he’ll see me in the office because he has work to do.
As I clean up the mess, his words play on repeat in my head.
Not just his words, but the tone. It hurt.
I didn’t like it. But also, he wasn’t wrong.
I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to. I broke his trust, even if only a little bit.
Yet, at the same time, seeing him lose control, even slightly, let me see the real him more.
He isn’t the controlled robot that he comes across as.
He’s human. Maybe I needed that reminder too.
That he’s not perfect, as much as I think he is… as much as he pretends to be.
It’s also probably best that I remember this is a job… and nothing should be taken personally.