Then it suddenly dawned on me. I was free. He couldn’t keep an eye on me here. To hell with what I’d promised. I had to tell someone what was happening, even if they thought I was crazy. But would they? No. Not possible. I would go to the principal’s office, and have her call the police. No one was above the law, and this entire thing had gotten out of hand. I was dangerously close to accepting the situation, believing it, and wanting things I had no business wanting.
Stockholm syndrome.
But what about his warning that someone would get hurt? Or his threat about telling my mom? Okay. I didn’t believe he would hurt me. And I didn’t believe there was some ominous force coming after me. That was ridiculous, likely a ploy to keep me quiet. But the part about my mom? If Santiago told her about my dad cheating, it would tear her to pieces.
Shit. I thought about it for a moment, and realized that the real reason I didn’t want Santiago to tell her wasn’t because I feared her learning the truth, it was because I’d never said a word. I felt like I was the one who’d betrayed her, not my father.
So there it was. My answer. My father needed to fix this. He needed to help me. He needed to tell my mother the truth. That would free me from Santiago and my guilt. It would restore a tiny piece of my respect for him.
I’d left several messages for my father over the weekend, but he hadn’t called back. Why? And he’d completely flaked on our FaceTime date.
Time to try him again.
I started digging into my purse for my phone. Damn it. I’d left it charging on my desk. I quickly thought about hunting down Mandy, but her phone didn’t have international access. I could, however, use the phone in the office—tell them it was a family emergency.
As I turned the corner, down the crowded corridor toward the administrative building, the sane thoughts in my head evaporated. Every student stopped or moved to let me pass. They shamelessly whispered and gawked in my general direction, parting like the Red Sea as I passed.
I ran my hand over the top of my head. Did I look horrible? The bruise was pretty bad.
But then the students began to applaud and cheer, “Fuck yeah!” and “Ding dong the witch is dead!” They roared like a crowd at a football game. I suddenly realized I was in front of my homeroom and ducked inside, out of sight.
The strange behavior, unfortunately, didn’t stop there. Steve, the captain of the football team, immediately held out his palm. “Dakota! Put ’er there, woman.”
In shock, I stretched out my hand, and he slapped it so hard that my skin stung from the impact. As everyone poured in, they saluted, patted, and hugged me until the bell rang. Everyone except Dax, who watched from his seat in the corner, his expression somewhat pensive, as if he were staring at a zoo creature. When the teacher entered, it wasn’t Mr. M but a substitute who immediately made threats of detention if people didn’t calm down.
I sank into my chair toward the back, fighting the urge to vomit. Had the universe tilted itself on its head and shifted its polar axis? Why were people being so nice?
Head spinning with confusion, I didn’t hear one bit of the lecture. As soon as the bell rang, I popped up from my seat and bolted for the door. I rounded the corner to the main office and skidded to a halt, nearly getting trampled by some girls behind me.
Santiago?
He stood in front of the admin building with the principal, Ms. Marie. She giggled, her eyes glued to Santiago’s bulging biceps as he spoke. They didn’t look like they were going to stop talking anytime soon either.
Damn it. Ms. Marie was the only one who had the code for long distance calls. I knew this because my mom had forgotten a field trip permission slip last year. When I called her at work to see if she could fax it over, they told me she was tied up. I tried to call my dad next, but the call wouldn’t go through until Ms. Marie punched in the code.
I ground my teeth. How was it possible? Santiago had everyone wrapped around his little finger. My mother, my best friend; now the principal. Even the police and people at the hospital seemed to be under his spell.
I went to class to bide my time. If I couldn’t get to a phone during school, then I’d call my dad when I got home. And I knew my father wouldn’t be so easily manipulated by Santiago’s charms. As much as I had trust issues with the man, he was ruthless when it came to stuff like people messing with his family. Once, I remember my mother had an issue with a new doctor at work. He kept hitting on her or something. I knew she’d tried to talk to the doctor to get him to stop, but when she did, he threatened to have her fired if she complained to HR. My mother finally gave in and told my father. Not only did the doctor never bother her again, he lost his license and left the state. I knew my mom felt kind of bad, but I didn’t. Jerk had probably been harassing poor nurses for years. I only wish I knew what my dad said to send the guy fleeing for his life. Must’ve been pretty damned entertaining, because my dad was scary. He always knew the exact pressure points to maximize fear. That’s why I had to believe he’d know what to do. He always knew what to do.