“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 likethat. 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, Ikneel 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.