Fate Book (6 page)

And now, he simply stared with disgust, watching me chew, and I couldn’t help my stomach from plummeting and clenching or my hands from shaking.

Nervous as hell, I looked up at the clock on the wall. Normally, my mother came home around midnight. It was a quarter to.

I choked down another bite and focused my eyes on the table, avoiding eye contact. Somehow, someway I needed to figure out what I was going to do. What if this guy never left?
Be brave. Be brave. Start asking questions
. “Are you staying tonight?” I blurted out.

“Are you inviting me?” he asked.

I gasped and looked him.

“Didn’t think so,” he responded dryly. “I plan to stay until your mother gets home. Then I have business to attend to.”

He was going to leave? Thank God. And he had business at this hour? Probably had puppies to strangle or a bank to rob.

I heard the front door open and then close. My mother was home. I rushed to greet her and threw my arms around her neck.

“Dakota, why aren’t you in bed yet?” She peeled me off her. “You need to be resting.”

“Mom, I need to tell you—”

“Eh-hem,” Santiago appeared in the foyer behind me.

My mother’s face lit up. “Oh, Santiago. Thank you so much for keeping an eye on Dakota.”

Why did she trust him? What lies could he have possibly told her that would grant instant access to “the circle of trust” as De Niro would say?

“It was my pleasure.” His smile was deceivingly warm and charming. He put his arm around me. “I’m just glad she’s all right.” He kissed the top of my head, sending tiny shivers down my spine—the bad kind.

“Well, I’ll let you two say your good nights, but then off to bed with you.” My mother walked upstairs to her room.

Santiago’s sweet expression soured, and he backed me into the wall with his large body. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, Dakota,” he hissed quietly in my ear, “don’t.”

But once he was gone, there was nothing he could say that would keep me from telling her what had really happened or from asking her why she thought this guy was my boyfriend.

He gripped my shoulders firmly, and I felt his rough whiskers scrape against my cheek. “I see that playing nice was a mistake, so let me lay out all my cards.” His voice lowered an octave, triggering my knees to tremor. “If you tell her you don’t know me,
someone’s
going to get hurt. And I’m not speaking about your little secret, Dakota.”

Okay, I was wrong. There was something he
could
say. He could tell me again that my mother having her heart broken was the least of my worries.

“Dakota? Do. You. Understand?”

I nodded yes.

“Very good. Get some rest. I’ll be back to take you to school on Monday.”

That was in four days. Oh, thank heavens. By then I could figure out all this, couldn’t I? Yes. If he’d just leave, I would calm down and find a solution.

I watched his large frame leave my house, and it took every ounce of strength I had not to collapse right there on the floor and cry.

Four days. Four days, and he would be back.

~ ~ ~

After a long, hot shower, my pulse began to slow to an almost normal rhythm, and I felt like I could breathe again. No, I couldn’t risk telling my mother anything, but perhaps she could tell me more about what happened after the car hit me. What had Santiago told her? If they’d only just met, why did she believe he was really my boyfriend?

I slipped on my favorite pink nightie—the one with little black puppies—and wrapped a towel on my head. I looked in the mirror. Without a doubt, I’d been hit by a car. I hadn’t noticed before, but there was a dark bruise just above my left brow.

I slipped the neck of my gown off my shoulder and inspected the purple and black pear-shaped mark. Janice had really done this to me? I still couldn’t believe it. I mean, malicious was one thing, but murderous was in another camp altogether. Perhaps the rumors had been true; she had mental issues and had gone off her meds.

I reached for my doorknob, planning to go find my mother, when my cell phone rang.
Santiago
flashed across the screen. My entire body tensed up as I thought about not answering it. But if I didn’t, would he come back to my house? He seemed like the exact kind of person who might do that.

I answered, but didn’t say anything.

“How are you feeling?” his voice sounded irritated.

He wanted to know how I felt? “Terrified.”

“You remember what I told you, right babe?”

Babe. He called me babe. Like we were sweethearts. I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t.

“Look out your window,” he said.

My pulse revved as I walked over and looked down at the sidewalk. The tall, dark shadow of a man leaned against a motorcycle of gleaming chrome under the moonlit sky.

“I won’t be far, Dakota.” Had he meant that as a threat? Or to comfort me?

I nodded and backed away from the blinds.

“Now get some rest,” he commanded.

The call ended, and I sat on the bed. “This isn’t happening. He’s not real…”

Afterward, I lay there, trying to solve the puzzle, but got nowhere. Eventually, I drifted off and dreamed of another life. I imagined it was the one I might’ve had if things hadn’t taken such a drastic turn. Instead of being hit by a car, I showed up at school and ran into Janice outside of homeroom. She and her friends laughed at me, which I expected, but when I saw Dax’s face as I entered the class, that’s when it really stung. Maybe it was pity or disdain, but the look in his eyes made me feel hollow. Ashamed.

Maybe my new alternate reality wasn’t so bad after all.

CHAPTER TEN

Friday.

“Honey, I’m leaving for work now,” my mother’s calm and cheery voice infiltrated my deep sleep. “Mandy also left you a note—she stopped by before school, but I didn’t want to wake you.”

I looked at my nightstand, but there was still no clock so I looked at my phone instead. It was well past noon.

“And,” she added, “your father texted this morning. Says he’ll FaceTime you as soon as he checks into his hotel in Shanghai. Probably around 10:00 p.m. our time.”

He’d been in Australia earlier in the week, so I knew that meant he’d be tired. But he generally Skyped or FaceTimed with me every two weeks. In another month he was due home, so I’d see him.

“Okay. Rest.” She kissed my forehead. “I love you, honey.”

“Wait. Mom.”

She was almost to the doorway. “Uh-huh?”

“It’s about Santiago.”

She smiled. “He’s in the kitchen, making you breakfast.”

“He is?”

“He called this morning and said his schedule freed up so he asked to keep you company.”

Terrified, I just stared. I didn’t know what to say. This was bad. Really, really bad. What if this guy didn’t leave? Would I have to run? Give up my life to get away from him? Not that my current life was oh-so-wonderful, but I had plans. College. My new life.

I sighed deeply. How the hell did I get myself into this? Just a few days ago, the most important things in my life were telling off some stupid girl and getting a guy to smile at me. None of that seemed important now. My entire life had taken a trip down the rabbit hole, and I just wanted to dig myself out before it ruined my plans for a future. I deserved the happiness that awaited me. I’d worked damned hard for it.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

I knew Santiago was in the other room. If I told her the truth—or what I believed to be the truth—would Santiago really tell her about my dad? Would he really hurt me?

Shit.
“Nothing. I guess I’m still freaked out,” I said.

“That’s a very normal reaction. You almost died yesterday,” she replied. “But you have nothing to worry about. You’re safe. Alive. And that Janice girl is in custody. If she ever comes near you again, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Wow
. I’d never heard my mom say an angry word about anyone.

I bobbed my head. “Can you come home early tonight?” I didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with Santiago.

Her sparkling blue eyes studied me for a moment. “Okay. I’ll do my best, but I want you in bed—alone—before I get home.”

Alone? Did she seriously think I was sleeping with that scary guy? “Mom, you really don’t have to worry about that.”

She looked at me as if I had not one, not two, but three heads growing from my neck.

“What?” I asked defensively.

“I was young once, too, Dakota. And your boyfriend is no slouch.”

“Huh?” Had she just call my “boyfriend” hot?

“Honey,” she warned, “do I look like an idiot? Just promise you’ll be safe, okay?”

“No. It’s just that I—”

“Ooh.” My mom glanced at her watch. “Gotta go. See you tonight, honey.”

“But—” she disappeared.

I lay back in bed and stared at the ceiling. This was all just so dang bizarre, and the gift of a full night of sleep hadn’t changed that one bit.

“Nice pajamas.”

I popped up on my elbows.

Santiago’s intimidating, well-muscled frame occupied the doorway. He wore black leather boots, a navy blue tee, and faded button flies that hugged his powerful legs. I didn’t want to acknowledge how looking at him made me feel things I had no business feeling. But that would be like trying to ignore a truck parked on your face.

He bowed his head. “Good morning, Dakota,” he said in that deep, almost too-masculine-to-be-true voice with the thick Spanish accent.

“I…I…”

“We’re back to stuttering again, are we?”

I nodded, and he smiled as if I amused him.

“Get dressed—I have business to take care of today, so you’ll be going to my place after you eat.”

He had a place? “Your place?”

“Yes.”

“Why am I going there?”

Anger flickered in his eyes. “Because I can’t leave you here alone. My house is…” he paused, carefully considering his words, “in the hills, about fifteen minutes from here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what?” he asked.

“Why you think I’d leave here and go anywhere with you?”

“Thought I’d answered that question already. Only, I’ll add to it that if you don’t come willingly, I’ll drag you. Get dressed.” He left and closed the door behind him.

Oh crap
. I didn’t want to go anywhere with him. What if his house had a basement with my name on it? And would he really drag me out of my home, kicking and screaming? No. Something told me this guy didn’t want to be noticed. He lived in the shadows.

A ghost…

I decided that no matter what, staying in my pajamas was not going to be helpful. I threw on my favorite jeans and a tee and then pulled my hair back into a ponytail.

Suddenly, I heard a loud crash from somewhere inside the house. I placed my ear to my bedroom door. The ruckus continued. Then I heard grunting and an “Ahhh!”

I yanked open the door and went into the hallway. The sound was actually coming from my mother’s bedroom only two doors down.

I ran and looked inside, hoping and praying it wasn’t my mother making that awful sound.

“Oh my God!” I screamed. Santiago was on top of a man, pounding him in the face. I couldn’t see the guy well, but he appeared to be wearing some sort of blue work uniform, like those guys from the electric company.

Santiago looked up at me. “Go to your room and lock the door. Don’t come out until I get you,” he screamed.

I couldn’t move.

“Do it!” he commanded.

I found my legs and scrambled to my bedroom, locking the door behind me. As an extra measure, I went into my private bathroom and locked that door, too. The house fell into an eerie silence, and I vacillated between holding my breath and panting. I could only imagine what was happening. Santiago was going to kill the man, right there in my mother’s bedroom.

Oh my God. What do I do?

Several minutes passed before I womaned up, went back into my room, and grabbed my phone next to my bed. I was about to hit 911 when I heard the sirens. I looked out my window at the two police cars pulling up. Had the neighbors heard the noise?

Thank God.

Deep voices rumbled through the house, and I wondered if they were taking Santiago away along with whomever he’d been beating to death. One could only hope.

What felt like an hour passed before a light knock on the door startled me from my state of paralysis. “Dakota. It’s safe now,” came Santiago’s deep voice. He knocked again. “Dakota? Open up.”

I slowly unlocked the door and turned the handle, cracking open the door.

Santiago’s intense gaze greeted me. “The police are here,” he said. “They want to speak to you.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“Some asshole burglar. Nothing to be afraid of,” he replied.

“What? Someone just broke into my house?” I asked.

“Yeah. Thankfully,” he mumbled.

“I’m not following. You’re happy someone tried to rob us while I was home?”

He shrugged. “Come on. The police are waiting.” Santiago marched downstairs, and I followed. The living room, a sort of ode-to-white shrine because my mother liked to meditate in there, crawled with uniformed people.

“Hello Dakota, I’m officer Melrose,” said the shorter, blond policeman.

I shook his hand.

“I understand you’re not feeling well after yesterday’s little incident, so Santiago’s asked that we don’t take much of your time,” he said. “Can you tell me what you saw?”

Santiago’s asked?
Since when were the police so accommodating?

Santiago moved to my side and placed his arm around me. “It’s okay, Dakota. Don’t be afraid,” he whispered in my ear.

Afraid?
I was so frenetic I thought I might actually pee myself. “I—I—heard a crash and then saw Santiago beating some man in my mother’s bedroom,” I managed to eke out.

“Thank you, that’s all I need,” the officer said.

I was about to throw myself at the officer’s mercy, beg him to help me, when he turned to Santiago. “Can’t thank you enough for catching this guy. He fits the description of someone who’s wanted for rape, murder, and ten counts of burglary.”