47. Stranger Danger
stranger danger
César
D ara Hale has been calling me non-stop today, and I have no idea why, but I’ve had enough. I swipe the screen to answer.
“What is it?”
Um—hi, César? It’s Dara. Why haven’t you been answering? Are you all right?” she asks, her tone laced with worry.
“I’m all right, but I am out of office. My abuela passed away, and I’ve been in Puerto Rico with loved ones for the past week,” I tell her with added bite in my tone. Her brother is a pendejo , after all.
“Oh heavens, I am so sorry for your loss. I don’t mean to be a bother, but this is important and I have to warn you. It’s not about work per se ,” she adds in a hushed tone.
“Okay, so what is it?” I urge, hoping she gets to the point soon enough.
“You have to believe me. Dax has been off his fucking rocker, and I’ve been trying to prove that to my father, but I fear it’s too late.
He had a meeting yesterday, hired some shady fucker, wired a large sum of money this morning and won’t say what it’s for.
He wants to win this bid so badly, he’s willing to harm her for it.
If you’re not here , then Deirdre is unsafe. ”
I have to get to her.
I swallow the rising bile in my throat. I am hours away from home and need to find a flight immediately.
“I am sorry to spring this upon you at such a bad time, but you had to know. She doesn’t fancy me, but I will try to get a hold of her in the meantime.”
“I gotta go, Dara. Thank you for telling me,” I state calmly, despite the rage boiling within.
“Of course,” she says, disconnecting the call.
Deirdre? Please call me. It’s important.
Wake up, Deirdre. Get out of the house.
Deirdre. Fuck. Answer the phone.
I manage to find a nonstop flight to Austin and book it immediately, but I have to be at the airport in the next hour and a half if I stand to make it.
I scan my room and shove everything I brought with me in my luggage, but it isn’t neatly folded so it’s not zipping up.
Not now. I don’t have time for this shit now.
Please?
It’s not safe there and you need to leave.
Call me back?
I call and text profusely until I board the plane. Even leaving voicemails, but I find no luck. She doesn’t respond to any of them. Thankfully, she hasn’t blocked me, but she hasn’t read any of my messages today. But she did last night.
Read: 10:04 p.m.
Of course, my flight doesn’t have Wi-Fi and my phone is on 6%. I swore I had everything packed, but I left my fucking charger. I’ll be using it to call and text to warn her until I get back.
Deirdre? Please wake up and get out of that house.
You need to leave the house.
Fine. I hate to bother you, but it’s not safe at home.
Dax has sent someone to follow us and he may come to find you.
Call me? Please, Doe. Please?
I’m boarding a plane and won’t be able to call for a bit.
Baby, please wake up. Fuck.
Please respond to me.