Page 9 of Betrayed

People don’t go around leaving threatening notes in real life.

John held the door and pointed to seats at the head of the table. My father was the perfect gentleman and pulled out Priscilla’s chair for her before turning to help me. I smiled and thanked him. From my seat.

Six people sat around the table, with John taking the chair next to me. They all had laptops and files in front of them. The only woman, with her red hair pulled back in a severe bun and wearing a tailored black suit, sat at the other end. She looked out of place in a room full of men wearing matching polos. They were all big guys who towered above me, even sitting, and looked like they spent more time in the gym than was necessary.

At least there’s one woman. I bet she’ll be the one protecting me.With all this toxic masculinity, I’d expected the receptionist to be the only female, so it was refreshing seeing a woman in the room. I tried to make eye contact with her, but she was staring at her screen.

“This is DA Davenport, his wife, Priscilla, and his daughter, Blake.” John introduced us to everyone in the room. The woman’s name was Catelyn, but he said she went by Max, and most of the guys had names that started with J.

How am I supposed to remember them all?

It didn’t matter.

Dad explained what had happened, then held out the note and envelope for John, who put on gloves before taking it and placing it in a plastic bag.

He’s preserving evidence, treating this like a crime. My heart sped up as fear surged.

I convinced myself it meant nothing; he was just doing his job.

“Has anyone else touched the note?” John asked.

“Just Blake and me,” Dad answered.

“Good, we’ll get it to a lab to look for fingerprints and anything else they might find.”

I stared at my hands.It’s just a prank. He’s just being thorough. I kept trying to convince myself, but it felt less and less like a prank with each passing minute. I chewed on my thumbnail, not caring that Priscilla would give me shit on the ride home if she saw me.

This can’t be happening.My nerves got the best of me and I blurted out, “I’m sure it’s just a prank.”

“Perhaps, but we’ll treat it as a threat until we know otherwise,” John said.

“I’m sure you’re right, but like I said, better to be safe than sorry,” my dad said as he patted my hand.

“I’m with your father on this. It never hurts to be cautious.”

Easy for him to say; he wants to get paid. He wouldn’t have some big oaf following him around all day interfering with his life. How was I supposed to focus on mid-terms with someone hovering over me?

“Mr. Davenport, you mentioned wanting twenty-four-seven full coverage for Blake. Will you also need coverage for yourself or Mrs. Davenport?” John asked.

“No, just Blake. I’m either at my office in the Dallas Court Building, or at home with the security system armed.”

“What about me?” Priscilla asked in her high-pitched, whiny voice.She wasn’t worried before, but now she wants security? No doubt it was a ploy for attention from a new audience.

“Darling, the threat was directed at Blake. You aren’t in any danger,” Dad reasoned with her.

His condescending tone didn’t seem to bother her, but it bothered me. I loved my dad, but hated how he talked down to her. It didn’t matter that I didn’t like her, it still grated on my nerves.

“I don’t need someone following me around campus, Dad.” Maybe I could convince him to hire someone to drive me and wait in the car. When I suggested as much, I was shut down, not just by my dad but by John as well.

“Blake, I understand you don’t want a protection detail, but college campuses are dynamic and chaotic. It’d be easy for someone to carry out the threat and disappear,” a guy at the other end of the table said. Jimmy? Jake? I couldn’t remember his name.

“Jamie’s right. The best way to protect you is for someone to be with you at all times. We’ll make sure the person assigned to you is discreet. You have my word,” John promised.

“I stay in the dorms Monday through Friday.” I said, thinking I’d be able to ditch them at least part of the time, since we couldn’t have overnight guests in our rooms.

“I want you coming home every night right after class,” my father said.

“But Daddy.” I sounded far whinier than I’d wanted to.

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