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“I . . . Uh . . . We don’t have any of that.”
She arches a brow, and I bite my inner cheek when I see a twinkle of triumph in her eyes.
“What does that mean exactly?” she drawls, and I know she’s gearing up to fight me.
I swallow dryly while trying hard not to fidget under her scrutinizing gaze. “It just means I have to go to the grocery store around the corner. That’s all.”
“And am I stopping you? Go, girl, and stop wasting my time. I’ve got better things to do than stare at that ugly face of yours all day.”
My broken, dirty nails dig into my palms while she admires her perfectly manicured ones. “I’ll need money, Aunt Lucy. To go to the store, I mean,” I tell her.
“Again? By God, you really are a leech, aren’t you?” she spits in distaste, grabbing her cigarettes and lighter. “My dear sister, God rest her soul, always said you were one, and now I see she was right all along. Here,” she barks out, retrieving her wallet from the side of her favorite recliner with one hand while doing a balancing act with her lit cigarette with the other. “Go and be quick about it. Dave should be home in a few hours, and you know he likes to eat his dinner the minute he steps foot inside this house. Don’t make my man wait, you hear me? He’s been dying for an excuse to kick you out, and if he finds one, I won’t do a damn thing to stop him. You little bitches are bleeding me dry as it is.”
I feel the metallic taste of blood pool on the tip of my tongue as I swallow down yet another one of her provocations. I won’t give her the satisfaction of talking back. I know the minute I do, she won’t stop at beating me down with her words. Her backhand or a belt will be her preferred method to get her message across.
I wait for her to hand me her credit card and walk out the instant I have it in my hand. When I close the front door behind me, I let out the air that was trapped in my lungs.
Trapped.
That’s how I’ve been feeling lately.
Completely trapped in my circumstances.
I just have to hold on for six more months. As soon as I turn eighteen, I’ll ask for custody of Zoey then find a job and a place for us in the city. Once I do that, then I’ll cut ties with the last remnants of my mother’s family. Aunt Lucy’s charity comes with too many strings and a kick to my already low self-esteem. There’s no way I will let Zoey live in this house long enough for her to feel like she’s an unwanted burden.
Zoey is so much more than that.
Right now, she’s my lifeline and the only thing that keeps me going.
As long as she’s happy and well cared for at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. With new resolve, I walk down the front yard, open the little white gate, and walk to the nearby store just a block away.
Although I hate asking my aunt for money, I do enjoy these little trips to the store. It’s usually the only time I can get out of the house. It’s when I can just be Layla. Nothing else. Not their housemaid, the caretaker, or the survivor. Just me, a teenage girl, and for a few moments, I can be anyone with any type of life.
I could be an aspiring singer or dancer. I could be in the throes of new love. I could be happy.
No one gives me sad eyes because they know about my past.
In fact, no one knows much about me at all.
The only person I talk to aside from my family is the boy who works the counter at the store after school. His name is Nathan. He doesn’t make my heart flutter or my knees weak, but he’s nice to me. He always has a big smile for me when I come into the store, almost if I’m the highlight of his day.
It’s nice. He’s nice. Most importantly, though, I feel seen by him, and that’s a feeling that has evaded me most of my life. The only time anyone has ever seen me is when they want something from me.
Ruthless Aunt Lucy.
Pervert Uncle Dave.
My selfish mother when it suited her.
Even Roy.
The only people who ever truly saw me and never demanded anything from me in return were Zoey and Gage.
It’s amazing how they were the very ones I’d do anything for when all they wanted was to play with their big sister.
Adults have a way of making me feel worthless in their eyes.
Less than worthless.
