Chapter 157
Blake's POV
A couple of days have passed since Kyrah and I broke up. I've been miserable as hell! And to make it worse, her friends came and smashed the hell out of my windows. My dad called the cops and I hope they rot in jail. Bastards!
I've never liked any of them. That prick, Scott and that psycho, Roxy. They always stick their noses in the wrong places.
Things haven't been well here at home. My parents are still trying to figure out how to make their marriage work. They've had countless talks nearly every day but still, no solution. Last night, my dad went on a business trip to Seattle. He's really trying hard to make the company rise again since right now it's in the red. So right now it's just my mom and Carla who are around.
I turn over in bed as my hand holds on to my chest, which is now bandaged. I'm still not doing well, my face looks like I just got ran over by a damn truck. Fuck! I open my eyes when I hear noises downstairs.
That's odd. It's always quiet here.
Leaving the bed, I try to listen carefully and I hear my mom yelling. I frown. Dad left yesterday, he can't be back so soon. Who could mom be arguing with now?
"Urgh!" I groan and go back to bed. Just as I am about to close my eyes...
"Blake!" I hear someone yell my name. What the hell is going on?
They must be yelling at the top of their lungs for me to hear them because this house is gigantic, full of rooms that barely get used.
"Carla?" I whisper as I sit on the bed and then I hear my name again.
"Blake! Help me!"
"Carla!" I yell back as I storm out of my bedroom, ignoring the pain in my chest. As I rush down the stairs, I groan and my hand holds onto my painful ribs. Why is Carla screaming, why was my mother shouting?
"It better not be that bitch Roxy and her brother again," I murmur but then I remember they got arrested.
The moment I arrive in the living room, there's no one there but I follow Carla's voice to the front door. She's sobbing when I spot her outside.
"Carla, what's going on? Are you okay?" I furrow my brows and she continues sobbing as I hug her.
"It's your mother–" she says.
"What? What's the problem? Talk to me, Carla." I cup her cheeks.
"She's chasing me away." She sobs loudly.
"What!? No, no, no... This can't be!" I say and as I walk barefooted back into the house, I bump into my mom who is carelessly carrying Carla's stuff. I can tell that those are not my mothers bags, suitcases and clothes because everything she wears is too expensive to be handled without care.
"Mom! What do you think you're doing?" I ask her.
"I've simply had enough of Carla living with us and since these days I'm always around, we do not need her services any more, my darling." She smiles, the shouting red lipstick on her lips makes me cringe. Why is she wearing makeup yet she'll spend the rest of the day indoors?
"Excuse me?" I stand in front of her. The only thing I'm wearing are my grey pajama trousers, no shirt, only a bandage around my chest, and no shoes since I ran out of my room forgetting to wear any.
"What do you think dad will say when he comes back and finds out that you threw Carla mercilessly out of this house?" I ask her and she smiles. What's there to smile about right now?
"I do not care whether he finds out or not. All I know is that Carla has served us for a very long time and now, it's time for her to go." She looks behind my shoulder where Carla is standing busy wiping her tears away. "Ta-ta darling. I will call somebody to pick you up."
"No way mom! This is not right. You know how much Carla is of help in this house. She does all the cleaning, cooking, washing, shopping, everything! Are you sure you can pick up from where she'll have left? I don't think so. Why are you even chasing her away? She hasn't done anything to you. What's your problem?" I growl.
"Blake... I'll just go. There's no need to defend me," Carla says, her tone low.
"Great! You've just made my work easier, take your things and leave immediately. Wait for an uber at the main gate," mom says and she pats her hair which is worn in a perfect chignon. Carla takes her bags and clothes and begins walking away.
"I will not let you do this, mom," I say furiously and follow Carla outside. "Carla, wait. Come back!"
"No, I'll just leave. I made you breakfast already, go and eat–" she says.
"If you think that I'm not going to fight for you, you're wrong. Let me help you carry your things back to your room," I say as I pull her suitcase and she sighs and sniffles.
"Blake Dawson! Where are your manners? I said this woman should leave this house yet you're forcing her to stay? Are you serious?" mom fires as she scowls at Carla, looking like a cat ready to use its claws any moment.
"Yes I am," I say, a heavy lump forming in my throat as I'm walking past her but she pushes Carla away from the door. "What the hell, mom?!" I say leaving the suitcase and going back outside to Carla. My fists have curved into balls already and I can feel the anger surging through my veins.
"You see this?" She points at Carla. "This is the main reason why you never listen to me, your own mother. Any time I try to help you with something, you say that she will help you. Any time I try cooking for your father or you, both of you say that Carla will handle it. Any time I come home with groceries, you all claim that I did not get the right groceries like Carla does. Everything is all about Carla! Carla! Carla! Carla! I'm sick of hearing her name!" she spits, "Get out of my house you home wrecker! You've brainwashed my husband and son such that they don't recognize me as the true woman of the house. Get out!" she grabs Carla by the hair and pulls it and I pull her away from Carla.
"Are you crazy?" I pant as I poke her shoulder with my forefinger. "All Carla has done for this family is more than enough to earn her my respect. And I will never get tired of reminding you how careless you are. Where were you when I used to get sick when I was a child? Oh wait, you weren't there. Where were you when I had soccer games in school? When I won trophies for the swimming championships? When I felt scared after having nightmares? When I wanted to play with someone... Where the hell were you?!" I yell and she seems speechless. These questions always silence her every time.
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