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I stuffed the letter in her locker at the end of the day and went straight home. Keeping my distance from the woman who had become my strongest opponent.
Camila.
Harley was good, but she was better.
Within the last month, our battles had taken a turn for the worst. During her second week at the house, I tricked her. The moment she stepped away from the food she was cooking to tend to my baby sister, I decided to play chef.
Dumping in three different bottles of hot sauce we had in the cabinets. She spent an hour in the bathroom throwing up from her nose and mouth.
The next day, she fed it to me for lunch without me realizing until it was too late. I spent an hour in the bathroom doing the same thing she was the day prior.
By the third week, I scribbled all over her notes from her anatomy class. Mary Poppins was going to school to be a nurse.
She failed her quiz the following day, which prompted her most recent attack on me. Planting Kool-Aid soaked tampons in my backpack for all to see in the locker room. I was the laughingstock of the school for the rest of the day.
I played it off like it wasn’t a big deal. I was Jackson Pierce, I could make anything look good.
Inside though, I was fuckin’ fuming.
I hated her.
She only accepted this position because of Skyler. We were a job to Camila, no matter what she claimed. Telling me she was there for us.
Bullshit.
We were a paycheck.
Nothing more, nothing less.
I spent the entire week thinking of how I would get my revenge. What I would do to her next. Once I saw ‘Don’t Answer’ calling her phone, I knew…
I texted him back pretending to be her, letting him know she wanted the D.
Zero regrets.
Until this very moment.
I’d barely been awake for more than a minute when she took it upon herself to charge into my room.
“What the hell?” I gritted, jumping off my bed in my gym shorts. “You can’t just barge into my room without knocking.”
“You cannot invade my privacy like that, Jackson!”
“Why not?” I 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?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You cannot talk to me like that!”
“Alright,” I responded, not caring in the least. “Then leave.”
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? For me to just quit.”
“Yeah, I would,” I replied with no hesitation, walking over to my dresser to grab a 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?”
