Bayward Street

by Addison Jane

  We’d found a booth that was more hidden than the open food area and gathered our meals together. My stomach delighted in finally having something inside it. I didn’t care if the food was cold or if people walked past staring. I needed this so badly, we all did. We ate in silence before Layla found a few discarded containers and filled them with the leftovers to take home.

  Lee and Kyle were working steady hours for their uncle stocking food and alcohol out the back of his club for a few hours in the mornings, and he was paying for them to taxi there and back. They got a little bit of money in their hands but it wasn’t much, not nearly enough to help all of us, so we were on our own for now.

  I wondered what would happen when they turned eighteen, and their uncle offered them a real job with steady wages. Would they be able to afford a place to live, and would we all be left behind? A few weeks back I would have said no for sure, but Kyle was still acting strangely and wouldn’t talk to anyone about what was going on, not even Lee.

  Ducking into the bathroom as we headed out the door, Layla and Phee helped me fill the plastic bottles with water and pack them tightly inside my bag. It was really heavy now, but I was the only one who wasn’t walking so it was easier for me to carry the load.

  I heard more yelling just before we reached the corner to Bayward Street. “God, not again.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Kyle.” Layla looked at me worriedly, and I tossed my bag to Andre, pushing myself forward and skating as fast as I could. The others heavy footsteps fell further behind me as I leaned into the corner. The sight in front of me almost caused me to trip as I struggled to stop.

  I grabbed onto a light post before I took out the group of men standing on the footpath.

  “Fable, run!” Lee screamed from the other side of the police car as he and Kyle could do nothing but watch them dragging Daisy away and forcing her into the back. Sketch was fighting with two other officers, cursing them to hell.

  By the time my mind caught up to what was going on and turned to run, someone grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back. I struggled against him, looking up just in time to see Andre drop the bag filled with water and disappear back around the corner. My hands were jerked roughly behind my back and I was forced against a building, my face pressed against the cold concrete brick.

  Layla and Phee stared on in horror, both their eyes wide and beginning to flood with tears while Coop threw himself at a police officer who’d attempted to take off on foot after Andre.

  It was a mess. I could hear Daisy crying as the policeman rolled me on my blades toward one of the cars.

  Lee and Kyle were screaming at them to leave us alone, that we hadn’t done anything wrong. But the police knew exactly who they wanted. They’d picked out all of us who they knew were runaways.

  “Layla,” I called, her face shot up as she searched for me. “The side pocket of my bag, grab the card in it, quick!”

  She scrambled with my bag, tearing open the zip and pulling out a little piece of cardboard. She raced over to me and slipped it in the back pocket of my jeans before the policeman pressed on my head and guided me into the backseat of the car.

  The door slammed shut, and I turned to Daisy, who was sobbing quietly beside me. “Daisy, it’s okay. We’ll be all right.”

  She didn’t stop crying, but I couldn’t blame her. How we were going to get out of this one I wasn’t sure, but I was going to try.

  I wouldn’t go back to them, ever. They could lock me up and throw away the key, but I would never go back there without a fight.

  I caught sight of my friends’ sad faces as we pulled away.

  Coop was being restrained, but as far as I could tell Andre had managed to get away. At least one of us was still safe.

  What people didn’t understand was that not all runaways left home because they were rebelling against their parents, or because they wanted to live a life of independence, drugs and liquor without having to answer to someone.

  We all had different stories, but the common factor with my friends and me was that we ran away because nobody would help us or protect us so, in the end, we had to protect ourselves.

  “Have you called my parents yet?” I asked loudly.

  The woman cop in the passenger’s seat turned toward me. “We’ll call them when we get back to the station.”

  “Can I make a phone call to my lawyer first?”

  “Do you think you need a lawyer?” she asked curiously. “It’s not likely that you’ll be charged, just returned home on strict conditions.”

  I knew she was trying to make me feel better about the situation, but she didn’t understand, it wasn’t them I thought I needed protection from. “Considering my father told me he was going to kill me last time I saw him, I’d actually prefer to have a lawyer.”

  She raised her eyebrows and for a second, I saw a flash of sympathy. Apparently some people within the law do understand. “Yeah, honey, I’ll see what I can do.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  She gave me a gentle smile and turned back around.

  The Los Angeles Police Station was huge, and it was packed full of people. Some yelled and screamed, some sat silently waiting for their loved ones to be released. It was chaotic.

  The lady police officer, who identified herself as Lena, took both Daisy and me and directed us through the crowd. It was a maze of hallways and elevators, by the time we reached a small office on the third floor of the building. The male officer stood just outside the door as she sat us down and unlocked our handcuffs.

  “I’ll give you five minutes to make your call, but I’m going to sit right here and chat with your friend while you do.” I nodded and looked over at Daisy, who was obviously shaking.

  “She’s—”

  “It’s okay, mama bear, I’m just gonna chat with her.” Lena smiled and moved over to crouch down beside Daisy, speaking softly.

  I raced to pull the card from my pocket, thankful I’d remembered Heath giving it to me, and since then had made sure to take it with me everywhere. A couple of times in the last week, I’d even had to fight the urge to go to the nearest payphone and call the number to see if I could talk to him but I couldn’t do it.

  Dialing the number, I let out a relieved sigh when it began to ring.

  I tapped my foot impatiently, chanting the words pick up pick up, pick up, over and over in my head.

  “Hello?”

  My body slumped. “Braydon?”

  “Fable? What’s going on?”

  I laughed, even though the situation was anything but humorous. “I’m at the central LAPD on 6th Street.”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “We’ll be there soon,” he rushed out urgently. I could hear him calling to Heath in the background.

  “Braydon…” I called out, hoping he could still hear me, “…you’ll have to ask for Keira Campbell.” I almost forgot that I’d never told them my real name.

  “I got it. Hang in there jail bait.”

  The line went dead, and I hoped like hell that Braydon knew what he was doing. He could be flighty and a tad on the crazy side, but he wasn’t stupid so that gave me hope.

  “Didn’t really sound like a lawyer,” Lena chuckled.

  “It wasn’t.” Flashing her the card in my hand, I took a small pleasure in watching her eyes widen in surprise as she read the name. “I’m just hoping he brings his mother.”

  Lena kept us in her office, even when another police officer protested and demanded that we be taken to a holding cell.

  She’d asked me about my parents, and where I’d lived before I took to the streets. I answered her questions even though I was pretty sure she’d already read my file. She just nodded as I explained briefly what I’d been through, informing her more than once that I wouldn’t go back there, I wouldn’t go back to them.

  It was a death wish as far as I was concerned.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell anyone? A teacher or someone you trusted?” she asked, leaning bac
k in her office chair. Daisy still sat quietly in the corner, tears still streaking her cheeks. She refused to answer any questions, I guess when it’s so far bred into you to keep your mouth shut in times of stress, you always return back to what feels normal.

  But I wasn’t about to hide my pain anymore. “What happened to me was exactly the reason I didn’t speak up. Even after everything that happened, that judge still sent me back to them without even a second thought.”

  Lena nodded. “Yes. You’re right. Something should have been done. I’m sorry you were let down like that.”

  There was a knock at the door, and my body tensed. Something in the air had shifted and the need to vomit burned at the back of my throat.

  The door creaked open, and a voice spoke softly, “Keira’s dad is here.”

  I reached for the wastebasket next to the desk, dry retching at the thought of seeing Greg Campbell. Lena rubbed my back gently, soothing me with soft sounds.

  “Stay here with the young girl, while I deal with this. Child protection services should be here soon to talk to her,” Lena explained as she took my arm and helped me to stand.

  “Fable…” Daisy cried out, leaping from her chair and clutching at me. Fear shone through the wetness in her eyes. “Please don’t go. They’ll make me go back. Please...”

  Pulling her in, I cradled her to my chest and stroked her hair. “You’ll be okay. I promise you won’t go back there,” I whispered, looking over her head to where Lena watched. There was sorrow in her gaze as she watched the young girl plead through her tears.

  Another woman stepped through the door, but she wasn’t wearing a police uniform. “This is Sarah, our on call youth counselor. You’re gonna stay with her until I get back. I won’t be long, I promise.” The lady, Sarah, looked at the both of us with a kind smile, holding out her hand to Daisy.

  “No one is going anywhere. We can just sit here if you like until your friend is done.” Her voice warmed me and Daisy began to relax in my arms, her shaking hand reached out and grasped Sarah’s. Daisy gave me one last look before she pulled away and I tried to reassure her with a smile.

  Lena lead me down the maze of hallways, I ghosted behind her, my mind floating off remembering the last time I saw my parents.

  The door finally creaked open, and I looked up to see my mother standing silently in the frame. Our eyes connected immediately, and I saw the tears that were pooled at the bottom, being held there only by her thick lashes.

  “Keira,” she whispered with a broken voice. I didn’t answer her, I had nothing to say. What do you say to someone who didn’t have the balls to stand up and protect you? Who stood by and assisted in your own demise? Nothing. You say nothing.

  “Mrs. Campbell, I’m Mallory Leighton, Keira’s lawyer.” They shook hands delicately.

  “Of course, it’s nice to meet you,” my mother said in her whisper quiet voice. I’d never known a time that she had spoken louder than that volume.

  “I hope it’s okay, but the court has given me permission to come in and check to make sure everything is in order for Keira’s return. I also have some papers that will need your signature,” Mrs. Leighton explained very professionally.

  “Sure, come in. My husband has just shot to the store for a moment,” my mother said, opening the door widely to allow us to enter. I narrowed my eyes at her, my father going to the store? That was a joke. She avoided meeting my gaze like the plague.

  “That’s fine, just your signature will be fine.”

  I led the way into the kitchen where Mrs. Leighton proceeded to spread some paperwork out onto the kitchen table.

  “I’m going to put these in my room,” I told her. She smiled at me before beginning her explanation to my mother about what needed to be done.

  I quickly made my way down the long hallway. My bedroom was exactly the way I’d left it. The only thing that had changed was that my dirty clothes had been picked up and washed and placed in a tidily folded pile on the bed. I pushed the door closed so it was only slightly ajar, and swiftly pulled my backpack from the closet. I mashed in a couple of outfits, underwear, just the essentials, and also changed into a comfortable pair of sweat pants with a T-shirt and hoodie. If I was going to have to run, I needed something comfortable to move in.

  I opened the window as quietly as possible and leaned out, dropping my backpack onto the grass. Satisfied, I closed everything back up again and made my way back out to the kitchen where my mother and Mrs. Leighton were quietly chatting.

  “Everything okay, Keira?” Mrs. Leighton asked, looking up at me curiously. I nodded and twisted my hands nervously. “Okay, well everything is in order here. Looks like my time to go.”

  I showed her to the door where she wrapped me in her arms.

  “Stay strong, Keira. I’m going to do everything possible to get you out of here,” she whispered in my ear, well aware of my mother who stood to watch us. I observed her walking down the driveway and climbing into her car before shutting the door and turning to my mother who now had tears streaming down her face.

  I wanted to believe her, to trust that she would do whatever she could to help me escape this hell hole that was my home. But I was done relying on others to fight for me. So far all they’d done was let me down and return me to my abuser. I couldn’t trust them to help me now.

  I was going to help myself.

  “Keira…” she started, but I cut her off with a quick whip of my hand.

  “Don’t. You don’t get to say anything to me anymore. You are not my mother. You are not my family. You’re NOTHING. Do you understand?” I yelled at her, pointing my finger at her accusingly.

  “You know how he gets, Keira.” She cried, sobbing now. “There was nothing I could do.”

  “You know what. Dad was right.” Her eyes widened with shock, and she stumbled backward at my comment. “He was right. You are pathetic.”

  I pushed past her and headed for the living room. That’s when I heard it. The sound of a car pulling up the driveway. A door slammed shut and heavy footsteps hit the concrete.

  I pushed my shoulders back, took a deep breath and steeled my eyes. I could see the look of fear cross my mother’s face as she stood just inside the entrance way.

  Shit was about to get real.

  I never remembered a time in my childhood or adolescence that I’d been excited to hear the sound of my father coming home. He’d never been affectionate toward me, never brought me home small gifts, or even acknowledged me as he walked through the door. But this time I knew he would, and it was for all the wrong reasons.

  The door burst open with force, and a loud booming voice greeted me back to the depths of hell, “Welcome home, you little whore!” My feet carried me backward even as I fought against them, willing them to help me stand my ground. I was stronger now, I knew I was. But that didn’t change the fact that Greg Campbell weighed in at probably three times my weight, and had no doubt been planning this moment since I drove that knife into his fat lazy stomach.

  He spotted me and the instant he did, the color drained from my face. I could feel it pale, and I knew that he could see the fear flash through my eyes. It excited him, it forced a disgusting smile on his face as he dropped the bag of groceries he was carrying and closed in on me.

  Even without speaking, I could feel the rage that began to fill the room like an ominous fog, his eyes sending me a dark promise that I hoped like hell would never be fulfilled. “You’re scared aren’t you? You’re wondering if this is the last breath you’ll ever take. You’re just waiting for me to strike.”

  I swallowed against the lump in my throat.

  His laughter caused me to jump, and he suddenly turned away, walking back down the hall and gathering the bag of groceries in his arms. “It’s torturing you, not knowing what I’m going to do. But you know what? I’m going to let it be a surprise.” He was so calm, it was eerie, and every single part of my body screamed at me to run. But I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction
.

  “I’m going to bed,” I forced out.

  He whistled casually as he carried his loot into the kitchen. He loved this. He’d won and he had a plan, and I think that’s what scared me the most. Before, he was just an angry asshole who couldn’t control his temper. Now he was a calculated angry asshole who’d had time to think, and go over every possible scenario in his tiny little mind about how he was going to get his revenge.

  “Ah yes, enjoy those dreams. One day they’ll be your last.”

  “Keira.”

  The sound of his voice was exactly as I remembered it. Deep, authoritative and self-assured.

  I wanted to tell him to get fucked, to scream at him and throw things, but instead my body just froze and I was that little girl again. The one that feared no one would believe her if she spoke up, the one who felt so alone because not even her own mother would step up and protect her.

  “Let’s get you home, Keira.” Others may have missed it, seeing his words as a concerned parent who wanted his daughter back. But I knew him better. His anger wasn’t gone, if anything, me running, had fueled the fire even more.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Campbell. You’ll have to wait. Keira has called in her lawyer, and Child Protective Services are on their way,” Lena told him, her voice even and calm as she placed her hand on my back in a show of support.

  My father grunted like the fucking pig he was. “Child Protective Services investigated us before she ran and found nothing. It’s a waste of resources. And how does she plan on paying for a lawyer?”

  “She doesn’t need to, I’ll be doing it for free.” Helen Carson’s heels clipped along the floor as she came to stand at my side. I inhaled slowly and deeply through my nose, releasing the air out my mouth in a long slow stream.

  Greg Campbell eyed the two women on either side of me, his lip turning up in disgust. He was a misogynist, believing firmly that women are not meant to be heard.