21. Relic

Chapter twenty-one

Relic

L ev's father looked like a three hundred-pound, once-upon-a-time high school baseball pitcher who probably talked his glory days up like they were his crowning achievement. He wore a backwards baseball cap with his sunglasses on the cap and a fading T-shirt stating, "Fighting Rams Baseball, 2000 State Champs."

On the evenings when he had to wait on Lev to be done working, he was all shits and giggles while talking to other waiting dads. But when Lev came out, every frown line imaginable creased that man's face, and he barked at Lev like his son was a hated dog. Made me want to punch the jerk in the face.

Tonight, Lev waited on him. Part of me believed he told the bastard a late pickup time so he could remain free for a few more minutes. Macie had to attend an after-work supervisor staff meeting, so I hung out with Demarius, Lev, and some other people from rides and games. Under the parking lot security lights, music played from Demarius' sweet Mercedes C class —this year's model—and Demarius and Lev showed off their moves to the forming crowd of fellow employees clocking off work. The crowd clapped, cheered, and encouraged them to continue. Demarius had some killer skills, but Lev belonged to a whole other level—like he was damned Magic Mike himself.

When Lev walked on his hands, returned to his feet, and then did a back tuck, everyone went nuts, holding each other back and trying to get it all on their phones. Me? I smiled like a proud papa. That would be when Lev's dad rolled up, yelling at him to, "Stop that nonsense and get in the car!"

Lev had gone from smiles to looking like a kicked puppy. He left, the crowd moved along to their cars in groups of two or three, and Demarius and I leaned against the hood of his car, watching Lev's dad drive away.

"Think the dad is the reason Lev's in therapy?" Demarius asked.

"Could be," I answered. "The guy is definitely an asshole. He treats Lev like trash."

"Did you see Lev do that flip?" Demarius asked. "Who knew the kid could move?"

I sure didn't.

"I can give you a ride if you ever need," Demarius volunteered. "I know Macie can have these meetings after work. If you don't feel like waiting, I can help."

Not many people willingly offered me much. Appreciative, I gave him a nod. "Macie and I live close to each other. But I'll keep it in mind." Wasn't my place to tell Demarius I was driving her car because she couldn't. We all had our secrets to keep.

Macie walked out of the HR office, glanced around the employee lot, and when her eyes met mine, she gave me that smile that lit up the darkness inside me. She and I hadn't kissed again. Not since our fight. We'd spent time together. A few fast-food dinners after work, but we spent that time talking, laughing. Did I hope we'd kiss again? Fuck yeah, but Macie was well worth any wait.

As she approached, my phone vibrated with a call from Lyra. Anxiety strained my nerves as my sister never called. I immediately answered, "What's wrong?"

"I forgot about Camilla," Lyra sounded panicked, as if she were gasping for air.

Fear strangled my vocal cords, yet I pushed out, "Where are you? Where's Camila?"

"I'm out. With a guy," Lyra screeched. My frantic gaze caught Macie's and her smile faded. "I forgot about Camila. She's at home. Alone."

"What's wrong?" Demarius straightened to join me as I began pacing.

"I was focusing on what I was going to wear to work tonight and then my guy called and I was excited, and then he asked me to go to dinner before my shift and Camilla was playing in your room, and I don't know what I was thinking, but I forgot she was there," Lyra continued. "I'm sorry, Relic."

"My little sister's alone," I said to Demarius. "I gotta go. Now." Then to Lyra. "Have you called her?"

"Yes, but she's not picking up."

I wavered on my feet. "How long has she been alone?"

"I don't know. An hour or two?"

Fuck me.

"Macie!" Demarius called. "Relic has to go now! His little sister's in trouble!"

Macie dug her keys out of her purse and ran toward us.

"The guy won't drive me home," Lyra continued. "He's being a real dick."

A feral rage rose up in me. "Did he hurt you?" How was I to save them both?

"I'm fine. He didn't do anything. I swear. My friend Christy's on the way to get me. I'm sorry, Relic. I really am. I know I messed up."

"I'm on my way home." I hung up on Lyra and immediately texted Camila: Call me now .

I then pressed Camila's contact and put the cell on speaker. I shoved it in Macie's hand as she gave me her keys.

"What can I do?" Demarius asked Macie as the two of us headed for her car.

"I'll let you know if we need anything and what happens," Macie replied, then shut the door to her car.

I started her engine and tore out of the parking lot, not giving a fuck if I ran red lights or broke every traffic law in existence. My phone kept ringing and ringing and ringing and Camila never answered. When it went to Camila's voicemail, I said to Macie, "Keep trying."

Macie did as I asked, and the droning sound of the ringing phone made me feel as if I had been pushed off a cliff and was waiting to slam onto the ground to die. The devil dug his fingers into my brain. Helpless . Never in my life had I felt so helpless. Fear slashed through my chest, through my gut. She had to be okay. Camila was just a little girl. My only reason for breathing in and out during the day. She had to be okay. She had to be.

Never in my life had I driven so fast, never in my life had a ride taken so long. I couldn't breathe as I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building. Shoving the car into Park, I leapt out, sprinted up the stairs, and cursed aloud when the knob gave no resistance. I busted in, my heart pounding in my ears, a cold sweat along my brow, and I blinked twice at the sight of my dad sitting on the couch watching Camila play with her stuffed animals.

"Relic!" Camila called out like it was the best moment of her life. She ran to me. Overwhelmed with seeing her safe, I crouched and wrapped her up in my arms as she fell into me. I squeezed her tight, probably a little too tight, but I had to make sure she was real, that she was safe and that all the nightmares that had tortured me on the ride here had stayed bad dreams.

I kissed the side of her head, and unable to let her go, I moved her onto my hip as I stood. She rested her head on my shoulder as she continued to hug me.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Lyra left," she whispered. "I was scared."

Anger rumbled through me like thunder before a storm, and I attempted to breathe out the need to strangle our older sister. "She messed up, but she called me. You're safe now." No use lying. Camila was only six, but she understood Lyra better than most. "Look at me."

Camila lifted her head off my shoulder and her troubled eyes met mine.

"Did he hurt you?" I prodded regarding Dad. "Yell at you? Say anything to you that made you feel bad? Do things that made you uncomfortable?"

Camila shook her head. "He played Mr. Toad."

Sure enough, the green frog sat on the couch next to Dad. "He doesn't use the same voice as you, but he did okay."

"Why didn't you call me?" I prodded.

"I was about to, but then he showed. I thought Lyra sent him. I know you said to never unlock the door for anyone, but he sleeps here, and you said he was our…" she mouthed "Dad."

I had explained to Camila that "he" was our father. I had taken her for ice cream, and she'd sat across from me with her arms crossed like she was a judgmental eighty-five-year-old. The only question she'd had: "What do I call him?"

"Whatever makes you feel comfortable." It was as good an answer as any. The names I had for him weren't six-year-old appropriate. So, Camila had yet to call him anything.

Should I be grateful to him? No. He could have as easily been the threat. As a kid, I had been alone with Dad. Alone with his drinking. Alone with him high. Alone with his uneven temper, heavy hand, and that tired narrative of how having children fucked-up his life. "I thought we agreed you'd only be here to sleep."

Dad warily met my eyes as if he were scared of me. "I was at the bar, outside smoking a…" he trailed off, probably guessing I wouldn't be happy he returned to smoking anything, "…and I saw Lyra leave without Camila. I knew you were at work, so I came by to check in on her. I'm glad I did."

Movement near the open door and my body felt like a fully loaded semi-truck had slammed into it. Macie stood there wide eyed, taking in all the dysfunction. I hadn't wanted her to see this—where I lived. My poverty. My dirt life. And I sure as shit never wanted her to meet my worthless dad.

"Who are you?" Camila asked.

"That's Macie," I answered before she could.

"Hi." Macie gave an awkward wave because what else could she do? My family was a Dumpster fire. "I wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"It is," I said, as Camila asked in a sing-song voice, "Is that your girlfriend?"

Pure annoyance and exhaustion caused me to sag, yet I tickled my younger sister as I placed her feet on the floor. "Go take a bath. It's late and you should already be in bed. School's taking you to the zoo in the morning, which means an early day."

School was what we labeled it, since calling it daycare made her feel like a baby.

Camila jumped like I'd jolted her with caffeine. "I love the zoo!" She ran to the bathroom like tonight hadn't been a traumatic event she'd have to work through in therapy in twenty years. She shut the bathroom door behind her and sang We Don't Talk About Bruno as water hit the tub.

Crises one averted. Camila's phone sat on the kitchen counter. I picked it up and flipped the button so that it was no longer on silent. How to explain to a six-year-old to silence the device at school and daycare then switch it to as much volume as possible for the rest of the time? I rolled my neck then glared at Dad. As if understanding every thought of how much I hated him, he stood. "Looks like you have company, so I'll give you space."

As Dad walked to the door, part of me felt like I should thank him, but I stayed silent. He could have been high, could have been drunk. Could have brought over people who had guns and drugs on them. He could have been the man who brought those drugs and loaded guns into my home. I knew who Dad was. Dad knew I knew. I wanted to say thanks to him more for his voluntarily leaving than for watching over Camila.

Dad stopped in front of Macie and gave her an easy smile. "Are you the one taking care of my son? If so, thank you. I'm grateful for him to have a good woman in his life."

Fuck Lyra for telling Dad anything about me.

"Um…I…" Macie stuttered through the answer, and I did my best to save her when I said, "Good night, Dad."

Dad gave me a tip of his chin as if he appreciated the effort it took for me to speak any words to him not in anger, and he left, closing the door behind him. Feeling exposed, like a fallen live wire after a storm sparking off in the rain covered street, I lifted my arms out to my sides and said to Macie, "Welcome to my fucked-up life."