If someone had told her five years ago that she would become intimidated by someone, she would have laughed it off and punched him in the face. But here she was, standing in front of one of the most intimidating people she had ever met in her life, the first being Kyrie's mom. It wasn't her fault she was intimidated, it was Jack's fault! However, she knew if she hadn't let him trick her into playing a stupid prank, she wouldn't feel so ashamed. She didn't blame him, she blamed herself for being so stupid. Her feet were firmly planted on the floor. Suddenly finding her voice, she began. "I left the apartment yesterday…"
"You left? Why?"
"Bad move, Jules," the voice said to her. She could sense the rising anger in his tone. She knew she would have to choose her words carefully, or she would be taking the first ship to her grandparents' house.
"Long story."
He sat behind the desk and gestured for her to sit down. "Make it short then."
She flinched in her chair, feeling more uncomfortable than ever. If she told him she snuck out, he would send her on the first flight to her grandparents' home. If she didn't, he would grow impatient and then send her on the first flight home. What was there to lose?
"I don't wish to piss you off Mr. Heathrow, but I can no longer stay with the Evertons," she began. Smooth move, Julie.
"Why is that so?"
"I kind of…snuck out yesterday."
"You what?"
Crap, she thought. Think of something, fast! Where's that stupid voice when I need it?
"Where did you go?"
His voice dropped by a decibel. He didn't sound pissed off, but she knew he was. Wait, how do I know? She said to the voice. Doesn't matter…
"Doesn't matter," she repeated. "What matters is what happened afterward."
Nice suggestion, voice!
"Was it Rachel?"
"Mrs. Everton? No, it's not her, it's her husband…"
"Son of a bitch," he seethed. "Did he touch you?"
"He didn't…correction, he couldn't. He would have, but I didn't let him. I left the apartment."
"Was time was it?"
"It was um…two-thirty, I think?"
He slammed his fist on his desk. She flinched once more at his sudden movement. He ran his fingers through his hair as he sighed. Dabbing his forehead with a napkin, he said, "I'm sorry Julianne. It's my priority to ensure that you're safe during your stay. I didn't…"
"It wasn't your fault," she chirped. The voice didn't agree with her, it was his fault! She knew it said that because it felt it couldn't blame itself.
"Where did you stay?"
"A friend's house…"
He stared at her quizzically, arching his brows at her. "A friend?"
"I do have friends!"
"You should stay here in the meantime, till we find another caretaker."
"Me?" She gulped. "I can't possibly…"
"Of course you can! I mean, Kyrielle would be thrilled."
Her heart was hyperventilating. She didn't mind staying with Kyrie, she was all right. What she had an issue with was staying with her intimidating parents. And her mom…she didn't intimidate her, she utterly terrified her!
"I don't want to cause any trouble," she added.
"Nonsense! It'll be fine."
"My stuff is still at the apartment," she mumbled.
"That's not a problem. I'll send someone to pick it up for you!"
If Julianne had good reasoning, and she did, she would know that the said 'someone' was a man. To her, it wasn't a bad idea, it was a terrible one! She couldn't fathom a man touching her things. Her clothes were there. It wasn't the clothes she was worried about, but the clothes that went under her clothes. She nearly fainted at the thought of it.
"Not to worry Mr. Heathrow!" She said in a breathy voice. "I'll go with this said 'someone' and pick my things up!"
"That's fine by me."
She sighed in relief as she walked out of the office.
The apartment was the same way she left it, messy. Jack wasn't in luckily, only a sobbing Rachel. She wondered why Rachel wasted her tears on him, he wasn't worth it. She didn't try to comfort her, she wasn't a touchy person.
It turned out 'someone' meant a dozen bodyguards. She eyed them suspiciously as they ascended the steps to her room. She didn't let them in, it was too messy. She shoved her clothes into a trolley, cringing at the thought of one or all of the men touching them. Her books and accessories went into a cardboard box. She thought of leaving her trusty alarm clock behind, its ringing always bothered her. She decided against it and dropped it in the box.
All that was finally left was her locket and the framed picture. She wore the locket and stared hard at the framed photo. She was in the picture, although her mother told her she was a few months old in it. Her mother was in the picture too, and so was he. She crossed his face out with a red marker, drawing an X on it. Finally, she dropped it in the box.
She sat on the bed for a while, doing nothing. She heard a knock on the door. Rachel came into the room. She had stopped crying but still had tear streaks on his face.
"I'm so sorry about what happened, Julianne," she whimpered. She nodded, not getting up from the bed. "It's fine, Mrs. Everton. It wasn't your fault."
"Please don't press charges," she begged. "He'll change, I promise!"
"I don't intend to, although I can't say the same about Mr. Heathrow. It doesn't still stop me from wondering why you're with Jack. He treats you terribly. You deserve better."
"He wasn't always like it. I know he'll change, I believe it."
"Some people never change," she said calmly. "I hope you realize it soon."
She picked up the box and made her way out of the room.
"Finally, you're back!" Kyrie squealed as she hugged her. "Dad's told me everything. I'm so stoked that you'll be living with us!"
Julianne let out a nervous laugh. She avoided eye contact with her. "I should probably go see your father, ya know."
"You're right! I don't want to keep you waiting!"
He sat in the office, still staring at the photos. "It's time," he said to himself. He would have to tell her. He didn't flinch when he heard the knock on the door. "Come in," he said, not leaving his chair. A giddy Julianne walked into the office.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Heathrow!" She squealed. Wait, was she squealing?
"It wasn't a problem," he chuckled. She sighed when the room fell quiet. Here comes the uncomfortable silence…again.
"Tell me about yourself," he began.
Wait, haven't we had this conversation before?
"Why do I have a feeling we've had this conversation before?"
He didn't reply. She didn't expect him to, so she continued blabbing as though she had memorized the lines. "I was born in Summer Bay, I live with my grandparents, I have a friend whose name is Doreen, I stayed…"
"Sorry for intruding but you said you lived with your grandparents…not your parents."
He didn't ask a question, but she knew it was one; he wanted to know about her parents. Okay, they have had this conversation, before…
"They're dead," she said, void of emotion.
"How did they die?"
"My mother died in a car crash and my father is…dead to me."
She didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. He, however, continued. "You know, I have a daughter who's your age…"
"Kyrielle?"
"No, not her."
Wait, hold up…what!
"She is Kyrie's age though…"
"So you're saying you got two ladies pregnant almost the same time?"
He shrugged. The nerve of him!
"I have a picture. This will only take a second…"
She watched as he retrieved a key from his pocket and opened the drawer. He pulled out a picture from the said drawer and handed it to her. She stared at it, a blank expression on her face. The woman in the photo seemed familiar, too familiar even. She had seen her a while ago; not in person, but in a photo.
"Wait," she thought. "What is she doing in this picture?"
The baby in the photo looked bothered. She tried to take off her cap. Silly baby. The man in the photo was…
"It can't be!" She cried. "It's not possible!"
The man was the one in her photo, except he didn't have his face crossed out with a marker. How had she not noticed the person standing in front of her looked a lot like him?
"Welcome home, daughter," Mr. Heathrow smiled