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“Camila, quit playin’. Do you want me to tell you his address too? Don’t act like I don’t know every last thin’ ’bout you. I need to protect what’s mine. Now get the fuck outta my sight and go make me a sandwich. Your man’s hungry.”
The audacity of this asshole never ceased to amaze me.
“You know what?”
“What, baby?”
“I think it’s time for you to eat your dinner out.”
“Cami—”
I abruptly turned, grabbing as many stacks of bills that would fit into my arms.
“Camila, don’t you fuckin’ try me!” Sean yelled, knowing exactly where I was taking his blood money.
“It’s time for you to go.” I opened the door and chucked the pile of cash into the hallway.
Making it rain down the stairwell.
He darted after the money. “You crazy bitch!”
“Awe … Sean,” I mocked, throwing the rest of the cash into the hallway right next to him. “But I thought I was your queen.” I flung his gym bag at his chest and he caught it midair. “Byeeeee.”
“Cam—”
I slammed the door in his face, quickly locking it behind me. Making a mental note to have the locks changed.
Again.
“This ain’t over!” he roared, banging on the door.
“It is for now!” I hollered back, slamming my fist against the hard wood.
I was playing with fire, but Sean would never physically hurt me. At least not intentionally. A girl could only take so much, and I’d reached my limit. He’d be back, though. Sean was like a pesky fly I couldn’t swat away or kill. No matter how hard I tried.
I waited by the door until I heard his footsteps descend the stairs, and his profanity become nothing but an echo. Making sure he was really gone before I went about my business. I hated that he thought he held so much power over me. I was just supposed to get on my knees and thank him for his hustling ways.
Who knows where that money came from, because I sure as shit know he didn’t legally work for it. Sean could shove his money where the sun didn’t shine. I could take care of myself.
Always had, always would.
On top of having to deal with the piece of shit that was my ex, I finished off my day at the Pierces explaining myself to Skyler. I was just dancing for the baby, making her laugh. I must have lost track of time, hence the boys walking in. She understood, saying her kids loved to dance too. Ending our conversation with pointers on how to handle Jackson.
“Be patient with him…”
“He’ll come around…”
“He’s just taking his frustrations out on you.”
I appreciated her input, but if I wanted Jackson to respect me, I had to beat him at his own game.
Plain and simple.
If he thought an insult was going to make me run for the hills, he had another thing coming. The boy was in for a rude awakening, and I had no problem being the one who delivered it.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The loud knocking from the other side of the door, tore me away from my thoughts.
