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trigger warning ⚠️ :
use of the word r*pe multiple times

also, sorry for mistakes guys i feel like there's a lot! so bare w me

enjoy!!

Cameron POV

Nothing can ever go right in this family. If we get a single moment of peace, we should be bracing ourselves for the worst storm of our lives to follow directly after. Every single time.

My reaction wasn't explosive when security came to the scene. And I didn't explode when Anthony came out of the fitting room, unsuspecting of murder due to his usual black attire—if it weren't for the bloody footprints he was leaving behind as he surrendered to the security.

I can only be grateful that his arrest was nothing like the last time, where they beat him with no regard. The police were called, they came, and they arrested him. That was it. There was no extra screaming, taunting, or yelling. There was no big scene. They came, they arrested him and we stood by and watched in tears.

Ant didn't say much either. He didn't say much to me, our children, or the police. If anything, he was talking to himself. I could see his mouth moving, but couldn't hear anything he was saying.

I could sit here, as we're waiting on Tyler to come pick us up, and think about how the dreams and expectations I had for Anthony's return were crushed before they could even begin. I could think about how our time together was short lived. I could think about how impulsive he is, with no regard to any of us at all. But, for once, every concern I have about Anthony is not my priority. It's my son who I'm concerned about.

Aj is sitting on the curb, watching the police cars pull off with his daddy, with tears in his eyes. He refuses to make eye contact with anyone at all. He's staring into the distance, silent, with tears running down his face. I tried to put a hand on his back a couple minutes ago, but he very demandingly shook his head 'no' and turned away from me. I want to comfort him, but above all I want to respect his wishes, and if that means I have to bare watching him from afar, with a million and one questions in my head, I'll do it.

Taleah is sitting right next to him, though. She has her arms around his arm, hugging him tight. I'm standing right behind them, one hand on my back for support, getting stares from bystanders for two reasons—for what Anthony did, and because I'm a very obviously pregnant male standing outside. I'm trying not to cry each time I catch someone staring at my son crying on the curb, or each time I catch someone staring at me—staring at my stomach. I'm scared, but Tyler is about two minutes away. I just have to wait it out until then.

Like I said, Tyler pulls up to Macys, quickly getting out of the car with no disguise which only makes people stare even more. We need to move fast before his presence causes unwanted attention—not like there's any attention being desired, per say.

"What happen?!" Ty asks, running up to us. "Let's go. Get in the car. Come on." He says, probably realizing that he's being spotted. He grabs my hand, and grabs Leah's hand off the floor pulling both her and Aj up, and gets us in the car. Pierre pulls off right as a crowd starts to form, attempting to chase after the car, which they're not very successful in. Tyler asks us what happened again.

"What's going on? They took Ant?"

I nod.

Ty puts his hands up in confusion, "What happened? What did he do?" He asks frantically.

I rub my lips together. I need a second. I'm not sure if I have a voice right now and I think I might start sobbing if I attempt to use it. My body is feeling kind of weird as well, and I'm trying my absolute best to remain calm before anything happens. I need to focus on not getting my body worked up in the state it's in. So, I tap Taleah to signal her to tell him.

"Some guy was bothering Aj and um—um he kept—like—" Leah sighs, and then hesitantly looks at Aj who's looking out the window. Tyler looks at Aj as well.

"Something with Aj you said?" Tyler asks. Leah nods.

Tyler frowns, "He got in a fight?"

Leah shakes her head.

"A argument? Somebody did something to Aj? What happened love. I'm tryna understand but I can't if you not clear about it."

Leah sighs. I don't think she's sure of how to tell this information either, because there's speculations but none of it is confirmed by Aj, who is in no mood to speak. "Some man. I think Aj knew him. He was calling Aj's name, and when Aj saw him he got scared and the man kept bothering Aj and then daddy came and went to the fitting room and ki—killed the guy." She explains quickly.

Tyler glances at me in fear then at Aj, "Who's the man?"

The car goes silent at the question. Nobody knows for sure. There are only speculations until Aj decides he's ready to speak about it. Tyler asks the same question again—who's that man—and it sends Aj into another fit of tears. Aj buries his head into his shirt making everyone in the car on high alert. I saw Aj cry when his daddy was physically violent with him. It was heartbreaking, and foreign. I didn't think anything could be worse than seeing him that hurt, but I think this tops it off. His cries alone—uncontrollable sobs, gasps, hyperventilating are so new—so new for my son. So new for who he portrays himself to be now. When he was younger, he did have a lot of meltdowns when he was angry, and he would pull on his hair as he wept away. Since then, as he grew older, those tears turned into swearing, anger, and yelling. That was the way he expressed that anything was wrong. It's almost as if I'm sitting in a car with my seven year old son again.

"Aj," Tyler reaches out to Aj's shoulder.

"Leave me alone!" Aj hoarsely yells through his tears. "Leave me the fuck alone bro! The fuck!" He yells louder. "Just leave me alone." He says again as his voice trembles. I don't think right now is the right time to be asking him questions. I don't know when the right time will be, because Aj won't volunteer information. All I'm hoping is that my assumptions are wrong. I hope he feels like he can talk to his sister, or even his uncle about whatever that man did to trigger him. And if he doesn't want to talk about it, I at least hope he's able to accept comforting from somebody. I don't know what to do right now. I don't know what exactly is the right or wrong thing to do, or say.

"Okay. Okay, come here." Tyler pulls Aj into his chest, where he continues to sob as Tyler rubs his back. We make eye contact and there's a very clear expression of concern written on Tyler's face. I wish I had an explanation for him. I really do. Aj starts to pull away from Tyler, so he lets him go. Aj returns to looking out the window, covering his face with his hand. The rest of the ride is completely silent, with only the sounds of Aj sniffling filling the car.

When we make it back to Tyler's house, much to my worry, Aj disappears off into a room somewhere.

"I'm gonna go try to talk to him." Leah says. I don't know if that's a good idea, but she's already on her way to find Aj. I guess it's better to try than not. I nod as I take a seat on the couch, watching her walk off. Tyler sits beside me, on the edge of the couch with his phone in hand. He tells me he's going to make some phone calls and locate Ant.

"Okay," I say.

"He's gon be fine Cam. I promise." He reassures. I shrug in response. I'm tired of being fed these reassurances when it comes to Ant. They're like empty promises. How many more times can he be fine after doing something completely wreckless? How is he going to be fine after he just got himself arrested? How?

I sigh, "I honestly don't care what happens. You know. Ant makes a choice each time and its clear what his choice always is." I say quietly.

"Don't say that. You don't mean that. You do care what happens."

No. I don't. Why should I care? What can I do about it? I'm used to being alone and have been for fifteen years, it's nothing I can't manage. And it's not even only this situation. It's the drugs, too. Anthony is clearly operating under some kind of foreign influence and if I wanted to question him on it, I have to sit there and brainstorm every way it might be received. Like, what else am I supposed to do. Anthony knows right from wrong, he just chooses to do wrong. Each and every single time.

"I don't care. What is caring gonna do for any of us? I'm just—" I take a deep breath in to compose myself. "I'm just so sick of everything going wrong, and then hoping for the best only to be let down again. Right now, the only thing I care about is my son. That's it. I just want to know if Aj is okay." I say. And I'm being honest. My son just had a breakdown in the middle of Macys. That to me is more important than my husband behaving recklessly once again. I'm sick of it. Of course I'm worried about him, but whatever happens is completely out of my control.

Tyler sighs, "I get it sweetheart. But don't give up on Ant like that. That's not you. You just need time to calm down. Maybe he had a reason for what he did. Like who you think that nigga was for Aj to be all shook up like that?"

"I don't know and in my mind I'm thinking in one direction and I'm doing everything in my power to avoid those thoughts, and I'm praying that my thoughts aren't a reality. I don't want to play a guessing game. I want to wait until Aj speaks about it. Because right now—" I slowly close my eyes, holding back tears. Once I feel like they've gone away I open my eyes again, "right now my anxiety is through the roof and trying to sit here and brainstorm who that man was is going to make things worse. And it's probably going to make Aj uncomfortable. I don't know."

Tyler shakes his head, "Nah. I feel like everybody knows, but nobody wants to say it..." he trails off. Before I can respond, he stands up with his phone in hand. "Ima make those phone calls now. Figure out where he is and go from there. I'll be right over there," he points to the chair that's only a couple feet away. I nod and with that, he sits in the chair and starts calling multiple people and places.

While Tyler's making calls, and my kids are somewhere in a room, there's not much that I can do to distract myself from everything. Nothing feels right. Of course I could turn on the tv, or look at my phone, or read a book—but none of that is practical. I can't focus. There's literally nothing that I can do except for sit on this couch, stare into open space, and have my mind race.

The only distraction I have to offer myself is going to the kitchen for a bottle of water. I place a hand on my stomach, inform Tyler that I'm going to the kitchen when he looks at me worriedly, and then stand up and go to the kitchen. I linger around the fridge for for a moment, bottle of water in one hand, holding onto the counter with the other. Thinking. After a while I begin to feel a little bit dizzy and lightheaded, so I interrupt my thoughts to go sit back down on the couch before I faint. Good thing I got up and got a bottle of water when I did. I practically down the whole bottle, hoping it'll act like some magic potion that suddenly makes me feel better. Like, I don't feel well at all.

I watch Tyler as he makes call after call after call, not even realizing that the look on his face is displaying clear defeat after the tenth phone call he made.

"What's going on?" I ask quietly. Nervously.

Tyler sighs deeply. "Um. Ion know. Everywhere saying they don't got a Anthony Jackson. I used the inmate lookup shit—Nothing. Called 311. Nothing. I tried everything."

Can't be. "That can't be right. He should be popping up somewhere."

"Maybe it's too soon for that. He just got arrested so maybe they ain't update they system yet. Or something. Ion know, we probably gon have to wait it out for a little bit." He says unsurely.

I know what I said a while ago about being fed up with Anthony. But I can't accept not knowing where he is. The only way I can put my foot down and be confident in my feelings of being mad at him is if I know where he is and if he's safe. "I'm not waiting anything out. If you can't find him I'm gonna go find him myself."

"Cam—" Tyler's starts, until I quickly interrupt him.

"No. Like where is he. I am so serious. If you can't find him, I'm not waiting."

Tyler sighs. "It's best if we wait though. Where can we look Cam? It's nowhere to look. Nowhere is gonna let us in to look up and down for him. And you not in no physical state to be doing all that anyways."

I'm already mad and anxious, so that statement makes me even more upset. "Don't tell me what physical state I'm in."

"Yo, chill out on me love. Come on. Think about it," He responds calmly. I don't want to think about it. He may be right, but I couldn't care less about my physical state right now. Where is my husband. I want to know where he is. That's it. We don't have to go get him or anything, or wait outside hoping for his release. I just need to know.

"Tyler, thinking about it doesn't help me at all." I say.

He sympathetically shrugs in response, "I understand that. But it's reality. If it really makes you feel better, we could go to the precincts in queens and Long Island, but if we can't find him we gotta come home and give it a day. Or let me work on it because you can't be stressing yourself out like this. How that sound."

I think about it for a moment. I would like to go look for Ant. And yes, it would make me feel better. At least I'll know that we did everything we possibly could to make sure he's okay. I can't sit here, completely oblivious and acting as if this is something that isn't urgent. "Please. Can we." I say.

With that, Tyler agrees and soon after we inform the twins that we'll be back soon, we leave the house. Our first stops are going to be precincts in Brooklyn, because Tyler said that it's better for us if we try everywhere instead of skipping boroughs and wondering later on if he's there.

I quickly learn that Tyler is not letting me get out of the car once we reach the first precinct. When I tried to argue against it, he told me that he can't have me walking in and out of cars because I'm so high risk, an no matter how much I tried to argue, he wouldn't budge. So my role here is to look out the window, hoping and praying Tyler comes back with some good news.

Aj POV 

Of course with my luck. Of course with my fucking luck. He coulda been anywhere but of course he'll be in a store way out in Long Island in the same section that I'm in at the same time. Of course. I don't even know why I should pretend to be shocked.

Now everybody fucking staring at me, and I'm not stupid, I know they know what the fuck all that was about. What else could that mean bro. What else could it mean. Now everybody in my fucking business because I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I wish I could go back and just say fuck Macys or some shit.

I never thought I would have to see that man again ever. He live in the Bronx, and I never go out there no more so I never thought too much about ever running into him and I never was scared about it. I never seen him once out here, but of course Imma see him in Long Island, right? Fuck my life. Fucking breaking down in the middle of the store when I coulda just played it cool. I shoulda just spoke to him or something, maybe he woulda went away. I'm older now so I shoulda handled it differently. I shoulda just spoke to him and maybe he woulda left and that was it. But nah. Now the nigga is dead, my daddy going to prison again, and everybody knows I was fucking with a grown ass man. Like. I'm so uncomfortable.

And I think papa and Uncle Tyler went out to look for daddy, so it's just me and Leah in the house and she's refusing to leave the room. I gave up a while ago. I wanted to be alone, and cry by myself, try to wrap my mind around what happened, but she sitting in here looking at me with sad ass eyes. I don't need that. I don't need sympathy, I just need niggas to act like that didn't happen and don't ever bring it up. Worry about daddy going to prison again. I'm good and I don't want to talk about it. Simple.

It's been silent in here for a while, but now Leah calling my name. I ignored her the first two times, but she's not stopping so I look at her.

"How do you feel? Are you okay?" She asks. I nod.

She sighs. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shake my head. I don't want to talk about shit. This is already embarrassing as it is.

"Okay. Well, I have something to say to you and then I'll leave you alone. Okay?"

I shrug. As long as it gets her to leave me alone. She scoots around so she can be sitting directly in front of me. She sighs again, taking a deep breath before she starts saying whatever it is she's bout to say. Probably some shit about it's gonna all be okay, which it's not. It's not gonna be okay as long as they keep acknowledging this shit.

"So...I don't know the full context of what happened. But I'm sorry that your reliving of whatever happened with that man was so public. I know its a mental battle between tryna heal from trauma and tryna ignore what everybody else might be thinking. But...something you gotta keep reminding yourself of is that bottling that shit up is a battle too. And I don't know if—like," She wipes a tear away. This is exactly what I didn't want. People crying for me. Niggas feeling sorry for me. This shit is not helping me. Makes me madder about the whole thing. "I don't know if you kept this a secret because you feel ashamed. But, this doesn't make you any different. Because whatever happened is not your fault." She says. I start biting the inside of my cheek.

"Aj, it is not your fault," she repeats, full on crying now. I don't divert my eyes from the wall to the left of me, because I can feel myself getting ready to cry again and I've had enough of people seeing me cry today. I hope she done with whatever it is she's saying now so she could go and I can bury my head in a pillow and hope that a miracle happens that makes tomorrow a new day, where none of this ever happened.

Her saying it's not my fault keeps repeating in my head over and over again, so much that I have a question. "So who's fault is it." I mumble.

"That guy. He's the adult in whatever happened."

"Just stop bro. You know what happened. You ain't gotta pretend like you don't know." I say. I'm tired of her tryna sugar coat shit. It's not gon make a difference is it.

"I don't know one hundred percent though. And I can't just throw triggering language around. I have no right to use those words to discuss what happened to you."

Triggering language? "What triggering language? The nigga didn't rape me. I was fucking with him." I say. Ain't nobody fucking rape me. He a pedo, yeah, and I was being dumb as fuck. But it ain't rape.

Leah frowns at me, "How old was he? When was you fucking with him?"

"Freshman year. He like 33, 34." I say.

Leah frowns, "Aj. You were fourteen in Freshman year. So that means he was thirty one. That's rape Aj. He's a grown ass man who knew better than that."

"It's not, cus I knew what the fuck I was doing. That's why it's a lot of peoples fault and it's mine too because I knew what I was doing. I kept going back. How the fuck is that rape bro? You getting me mad." She tryna sit here and tell me I was raped when I know what the fuck happened.

"Aj, listen to me. A fourteen year old can not consent to shit with a nigga