Chapter 2: Safe And Secure

Chapter 2: Safe And Secure

Brianna

My father loved psychological terrorizing me and his favorite thing was to tell me I needed to be prettier, dressed well and apply makeup. He called me inferior all the time that you would think it was my middle name. When people say I am so beautiful these days, I cringe at the compliment because the little girl in me is telling me that they were lying.

Living in squalor since I was fresh out of high school felt like punishment meant for me. A shitty life for a shitty girl especially since I left my parents and cut them off. My father always felt like god and on hard nights, I swore it was him who has all this in motion even without being in my life anymore. I have always felt like his hands were around my throat like a leash and the more I tug or try to run, the more I choke. I am pretty sure if my father found me, he would beat me to a pulp for leaving home. I know he had tried looking for me, though he disowned my brother a long ago. He said, Bryce is a man and he should live his own life but he thinks he owns me just like he owns my mother. My mother is drop dead gorgeous and plain out stupid. She is obsessed with him and he is obsessed with himself.

If my father saw this building in this neighborhood and the penthouse I am about to go live in, he would throw a fit. He had always been jealous and out right deranged. He wants to be rich and important but he isn't. He works in a successful investment company but he isn't the CEO or anything. It is a middle tier position and he always surrounded himself with impressive people so in turn people will just assume that he was important and also would call us higher middle class. Whereas in reality, we weren't.

I won't lie and say the three year gap between Port Harcourt and Ogume wasn't scary for me. I managed to get away from my father because I was literally on the other side of the country. Bryce has been in Port Harcourt for years, though and hasn't heard a word from my parents so I think that was my own paranoia talking. I have gone to extreme measures to cut those people off, I had to block half of my family who would update and inform my father of things they saw in social media. Everything is set to private.

I had to cut off my best friend in Ogume because her father and my father were also best friends so her father pressured her into telling my father things about me. I am not an easily accessible person, I have a new phone number and no listed address anywhere. I do have my school records but there are plenty of fashion design schools for them not to know which one I would even be in. Besides, I am not a minor and college wouldn't give my parents any information anyway. I have had plenty of daydreams and wishes that I will become a successful designer but the little voice in the back of my head tells me I am not good enough. But another little intrusive voice tells me that if I am good enough, my name will be public and my family will have access to me again. Port Harcourt is the hub of fashion but how brave will I be? I used to have Bryce, my big brother, as my protector. At eleven years old, I had to learn how to be my own protector. Who do I need to be protected from now, thought and what's next?

Callan's penthouse was immaculate, the first level had a twenty ceilinged living room with the city skylines as its window view. There was a black slate gas fireplace which brought a type of masculinity to the space and gracious separate kitchen and dining room. The second level apparently has a media room with a bar. The primary master suite with dual bathroom, dressing area and secondary rooms with en-suite bathroom. I didn't get to actually see it because David was very fidgety and kept speaking.

“Mr. Harold is a particular man, he wouldn't like you viewing or touching any of his things.” He muttered and it felt like this David guy was my babysitter for the day.

The only place I was basically allowed to touch was the living room couch, where the two of us promptly sat down and watched several hours worth of fashion shows.

“It is to get me in the Port Harcourt mood.” I told him.

I used to love Veeky James and the fashion she was known for. I wanted her life even though it wasn't always luxurious. As a child, being in my situation, I felt like I was made to be in that show. It was escapism but now I am here, I will be living in Port Harcourt, it was not something I expected.

“What is your favorite character?” I asked him, he was sitting at the complete opposite end of a very long couch.

“Margaret.” He said without a second thought.

“Why? Because she is a sex addict?” I asked and he blushed, it cracked me up.

“She is just strong willed and so felt assured.” He responded.

Self assured? I can't relate.

“Is that how you are? Self assured?” I asked.

“I am good at my job but I tend to hold a nervous disposition.” He gestured with his hand

When we heard the ding of the elevator, we both turned towards the foyer that it opened up to. My brother walked out who I haven't seen for so many years. He looked more mature, he is undoubtedly a handsome guy. Girls went crazy for him back at school and all my friends crushed on him and I hated it. Our hair was the same color, chestnut brown and ocean blue eyes. He had a deep set of eyes which made his face more masculine cut than my dainty face. He has some tattoos as well and a confident stance that he didn't have all those years ago before the military.

He wasn't a suit man but here he was exiting the elevator in one of the most drop dead gorgeous suits ever. I hopped to my feet before I even realized it and started rushing towards him. He was much taller than me but I still got my arms around his hard torsos.

“Hi, I missed you.” I gushed, his arms came around me and he gave my back a small rub.

“Hey, kiddo.” He used his childhood nickname for me. I am a dainty sized girl and he always called me kiddo. He pulled me at arm length to get a look at me.

“Shit, you are getting old.” He shook his head at my own matured look.

I snorted and called him old as well. He led me back to the living room and told David he was free to go. He sounded like a boss and it was so weird to me.

“So are we staying here for a month or did you just want me here until I got a job?” I tipped my head at him.

If Callan Harold is as particular as David said, I doubt he wants us here as roommates for a month.

“No, this is a safe and secure building. I would rather you stay here.” He replied.

“Safe?” I asked and he was silent for a moment.

“Yes, Port Harcourt is a big city and it is not safe for young girls.” I rolled my eyes.

“I live all by myself in Asaba, Bryce. Don't start treating me like a little girl just because you are stuck in time with me being eleven years old.” I shook my head at him.

That was the time he took care of me and he often seems stuck in that time frame with me. He didn't like the subject so he changed it. Sticking his hands in his pocket, he stood confidently and looked down at me.

“Where are your bags? We will bring it up to your room.” I looked around and then frowned when he saw my crooked wheeled luggage behind the couch towards the kitchen.

Where is all my stuff from the moving truck?” I looked around like I had suddenly seen my belongings.

“I wasn't about to clutter Callan's house, I have it sorted for you. In a few weeks, we will have our own space.” He motioned to grab my bag but he didn't roll it, he just picked it up and started walking towards the elegant floating stairs and I followed him behind.

“You know, I do appreciate that you moved out of your old place.” I said from behind.

He barely glanced over his shoulder at me while reaching the platform to the second floor. The media room was sort of behind the staircase landing and then a hall brought us to several doors. The one on the very end was apparently Callan's and I was brought to the first door on the left. When the door swung open, I couldn't see it right away because his big body was in the way.

“It is fine, I outgrew that place and I didn't want you living alone anymore. You belong here.” He surprised me with his words and it warmed my heart.

When he dropped the bag, he peeked at me but I didn't want to acknowledge that small awkward tension that arose when he mentioned leaving me alone. He holds guilt over being selfish and wanting to leave my parents but also leaving me behind with them. Things got worse for me while he was away but I didn't blame him for it. He went to the military and started this whole life and it made him grow up.

Both of us grew up under different circumstances and opposite wars. It was the first in eight years we will be living under the same roof.