Page 5 of Betrayed

“Yes, Daddy.” I couldn’t hide the worry in my voice. I wanted to ask if he knew who sent it, or what it was about, but Priscilla beat me to it.

“What’s going on, Steve?” Priscilla asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just a prank,” he said as he waved the letter around. “I’ll call Dallas PD and report it. Just in case.”

Priscilla relaxed, but his tone did nothing to put me at ease. It was easy for her to dismiss; she didn’t know what it said.

I’m the one being threatened.

I went back to my room and tried to focus on my case studies, but it was useless. I couldn’t stop thinking about the letter. The threat.

“I’m sure it’s just a prank, like Daddy said.” I muttered as I closed the file. My father was a District Attorney, so there were criminals out there who blamed him for being in jail. But why would someone threaten me? And what did they mean by “honor your word”?

Probably just some stupid joke one of his buddies thought would be funny.

By the time my phone buzzed with a text from Danny asking if I wanted to meet for lunch, I’d convinced myself it was a joke and was more pissed than scared.

Sorry, I can’t.

Why not? Daddy won’t let you come out?

He was teasing, but his words were irritatingly accurate. It sucked being stuck at home because someone was playing a prank on my dad.

Knowing he’d pester me with questions I couldn’t answer, I decided not to tell Danny what happened.

I have to study.

How about dinner tonight?

Sorry, I’m having dinner with my parents.

You’d rather have dinner with them than me? You don’t even like Cilla.

Danny was my friend, but his whining could be annoying.

We’ll have lunch tomorrow.

Okay, but it’s on you for blowing me off tonight. {wink emoji}

Okay.

We hadn’t made plans, so I wasn’t actually blowing him off, but I could afford to treat him to lunch. And it was easier than arguing with him.

My father refused to let me leave again on Sunday, saying he’d feel better if I stayed home. I hated being trapped inside all day, but at least I had plenty of time to read and start studying for my mid-terms.

During Sunday dinner, Daddy announced we had an appointment with a personal protection company first thing in the morning.

“What does that mean?” I asked, more from shock than ignorance.

“I’m hiring an executive protection detail for you.”

My fork clattered on my plate. “What? I thought you said it’s probably a prank,” I said.

“Be careful,” Priscilla warned me. I doubted the three-inch drop caused any damage to her precious china.

“It may be, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Dad answered. “I’m not willing to risk anything happening to you.”

Despite the anxiety in his eyes, I refused to entertain the possibility of the threat being real. Not after spending the last two days convincing myself it wasn’t.

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