“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.”
“Rape? Murder?” I blurted out.
“A woman walked in on him while he was cleaning her out,” said the officer.
How horrible. Could that have been me?
“No problem,” Santiago said. “Thanks for showing up so quickly.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Officer Melrose said. “After yesterday, I hate to ask you to come in again, but will Monday work to make a formal statement?”
So they already knew Santiago because he’d been to the station after Janice ran me over.
“No problem. Thanks.” Santiago shook his hand.
Officer Melrose looked at me. “You’ve got a really good guy there, Dakota. I’d hang on to that one.”
I stood there completely flabbergasted as the officers left the house.
Santiago’s phone rang, and he quickly answered it. “Yeah?” He listened for a few moments. “No.” He listened some more. “Of course.” He hung up the phone.
“What the hell just happened?” I asked. And who was he speaking to?
“You got lucky. That’s what happened,” he replied.
“Some guy broke in and my stalker—who’s holding me prisoner, by the way—happened to catch him and beat the crap out of him. Not sure I’d call that luck.”
Santiago brushed his hand through his messy, dark hair, and I couldn’t help noticing how his generous biceps flexed as he did this.
I’m an idiot.
“My mother was killed by an intruder,” he said matter-of-factly. “I found her facedown on the kitchen floor when I was ten. So, yeah, I call it luck.”
I gasped. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “So am I. They never caught the guy.”
What a tragic story. I couldn’t imagine how he felt, never getting justice for something like that. I wondered if that had something to do with why he was with me; however, when I jammed the clue in with the other pieces, the puzzle remained scrambled. He had a past, a tormented one that haunted him. Still didn’t explain why he was invading my life or threatening me not to squeal.
Suddenly, my stomach lurched, and I felt my legs giving out. Santiago caught me before I hit the floor.
He scooped me up in his arms, and though I didn’t black out, the dizziness and pounding in my head made it impossible to open my eyes. He held me tightly and carried me up the stairs. I heard the pounding of Santiago’s heart against his chest, and I felt the warmth of his body against mine. I couldn’t deny it felt strangely comforting. Yes, he was real. He had to be. Ghosts didn’t have heartbeats and radiate heat. Ghosts didn’t get phone calls or casually speak of their dead mothers.
“You’re all right, Dakota,” he whispered. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Had he meant me to hear that? Or did he think I was out cold?
I remained perfectly still, hoping he might reveal something more, another piece of the puzzle.
He laid me down on my bed and ran his hand over my face before checking my pulse. “You’re strong, Dakota. Just like I knew you would be.”
He knew I would be? Like he’d been planning to meet me? But I’d randomly found his picture.
Then I felt something I didn’t expect. His lips brushed across my cheek. And while I didn’t want to admit it, something about the gentleness sent tiny waves of pinpricks charging through my entire body. I felt like I’d been licked by a hungry, dangerous lion. It felt fucking wonderful.
I gasped and opened my eyes. Santiago immediately straightened up, startled by my abrupt awakening.
He stared at my face for a moment, studying me with what could only be interpreted as some sort of admiration. Then, as if catching himself doing something he shouldn’t, he started to turn away. “You haven’t eaten yet; I’ll be back with those pancakes I made you. Then we’re leaving.”
He made me pancakes? This was all too much. Too bizarre. He threatened me, protected me, made me breakfast. He watched over me like an overzealous boyfriend.
“Wait!” I sat up, and I could see from the look on his face that his patience was being tried. “Please, whatever is going on, whatever is happening, I need to know.”