Mr. D: Black Mountain Academy Read online

  “I’ve never seen him. I’ve seen his shadows. I’ve heard him outside. But no, I don’t think he’s ever been inside the house until today. I’m usually really good at securing the alarm and making sure all the windows and doors are locked.”

  “This is why we need to call the police. If there’s some crazy man stalking you, then they need to know about it.” I reached out my hand again for the phone.

  “They know. Trust me, they know,” she said, her voice raising in frustration. “I’ve had them out to the house more times than I can count. By the time they get here, there’s no sign of anything. Some of the police are sympathetic, and others get angry and accuse me of calling them for attention. The last cop actually said he would call the news next time I called since I clearly wanted all eyes on me.” She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Even with you here, there’s no good that will come from the cops coming.” She looked back up at me. “Please, Mr. D. I’m scared, tired, and I don’t want to deal with police and reports and… please.”

  “I can’t just let you go back in there,” I said, pointing at the house as if I were accusing it of a filthy crime. “There’s no way I’m going to feel comfortable leaving you here even if I go in there and check every single inch of that house multiple times. He could come back after I’m gone.”

  “There’s a bed and breakfast up the street I’ve stayed at before when I’ve gotten too scared to be alone. Would you mind taking me there?”

  “And what if this stalker follows you there? What if he knows you go to that place for refuge? Corrine, this isn’t safe!”

  She flinched at my tone, and I took a deep breath to level out my emotions.

  I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, but the situation was becoming too much. I knew I should call the police. I knew I should do something, but at the same time, I knew how little the police could truly do if there was no real evidence of anything other than some open doors.

  And it wasn’t like we could get ahold of her goddamn mother!

  I glanced back at the house and then at Corrine who suddenly seemed very small and vulnerable in my car. She was putting me in a very difficult situation. I couldn’t just leave her here. I should call the authorities and at least report this. But I also knew that the people in Black Mountain were different than those in Oakland. I had to handle this differently.

  “You’re coming home with me to stay tonight. Tomorrow, we figure out how to reach your mother, and how to deal with this fucker who’s messing with you.”

  I didn’t really expect for her to argue, but I didn’t expect for her to eagerly nod in agreement. “Okay, thank you.”

  The poor girl didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t blame her one bit, but I hated all who had put her in this position. I was a damn near stranger, and yet the only person she had to turn to in a time like this. For her to be this alone, this abandoned, and this terrified… I needed to make it right.

  5

  Corrine

  Burden was my middle name.

  At least it was when it came to my mother. I knew it. My nannies knew it. Everyone in my life knew it.

  But I had tried so hard—once I was of age—to never be a burden on anyone else again.

  So, sitting in my principal’s car, driving to his house, and frankly needing him so that I could make it through the night without having a complete breakdown, slammed me right back into burden category.

  Mr. D kept tapping his fingertips on the steering wheel, and his jaw was locked as he drove in silence. I knew what he was thinking. I couldn’t blame him one bit, and frankly, he should stop the car and demand for me to get out.

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble,” I said.

  He quickly glanced my way and then back at the road. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  “I’m not sure others would agree.”

  “Take the principal and student part out of this. You’re a woman who’s in danger, and I can’t just let you risk your life by staying in that house. I’m helping you. Nothing wrong with that.”

  Was he saying it to me, or to himself?

  “You’re taking a student home with you. As innocent as this is, I understand the optics. I don’t plan on telling anyone,” I offered.

  He nodded slowly. “I think it’s best for both of us if we keep this to ourselves, yes.” He looked over his shoulder as he took a sharp turn down a side street I hadn’t ever seen. It was quiet, no real traffic, and secluded. Perfect considering our current situation.

  “No one has ever believed me about the stalker before,” I confessed.

  “Well someone opened those doors again. Both of us can’t be losing our minds. I do wish you would have let me call the police, however. I’m starting to think there is no real way around that.”

  “Have you ever been surrounded by paparazzi, Mr. D?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I have. And frankly, given a choice between one stalker and a bunch of stalkers with cameras, I choose the one I have.”

  “I get it. And it’s the only reason I’m acting against my better judgment. I knew before accepting this position in Black Mountain that things would have to operate differently than I was used to. But we still have to figure something out.”

  “Maybe if I can get hold of my mom, I can get some security, or a bodyguard,” I suggested, liking the idea even more as I said it out loud. I wouldn’t be alone all the time.

  “Yes, well, that goes back to us somehow getting in touch with her.” He looked at me with accusing eyes. “Unless you weren’t quite being honest on your ability of being able to reach her.”

  Wishing that was indeed the truth, I shook my head. “She’ll come out of her cave soon. It won’t be forever. I did leave a message with her agent. So, maybe he can reach her. I’m sure she’s shopping movie deals right now and in some form of contact with him.”

  We pulled onto a street with well-manicured mini yards and rows of condominiums and townhouses. Everything was so orderly and uniform that it reminded me of a movie set. Though this area did not possess large mansions or expensive lodge-like houses, you could see that there was still a level of class and money present. It wasn’t easy or cheap to live in Black Mountain, but I guess you could call this neighborhood the least expensive area.

  “I have a two-bedroom condo,” Mr. D said as he pulled into a single driveway and waited for the garage door to open. “It works for me. Simple, I don’t have to worry about yard work, and it’s clean.”

  I looked up at the light gray two-story condo that was lined up with others exactly the same but with a slightly different color. Though the condo was two stories, it appeared that it was actually one story of living space that sat on top of the garage.

  I wasn’t surprised when I got out of the car that Mr. D’s garage appeared as organized and orderly as it was. Everything seemed to have a home. He had a mountain bike hanging on a rack on the side, and above my head hung two kayaks. There was also a punching bag in the far corner with some hand weights below it. It made sense that Mr. D would be so active considering he was obviously in such good shape. And it also made sense he would be into the outdoors since—other than myself—it seemed everyone in Black Mountain loved nature and outdoor living to some degree.

  The garage door closed behind us as we walked up the stairs to the main level. Even though there were no fancy gates surrounding the house, or a keypad to get in, I hadn’t felt this level of safe in a long time. Mr. D didn’t seem like the violent type, but he also gave me the impression he wouldn’t back down in a fight either.

  As we walked into the condo, it was exactly as I pictured.

  Masculine.

  There was a brown leather couch that sat in front of a large-screen television. Next to the couch was a matching reclining chair, and by the wear and tear of the leather, I could see he enjoyed spending time in it. The living room also had a gas fireplace, cathedral ceilings making the room look much larger than it was, and
an old chest being used as a coffee table. Mr. D took my books from me and set them on the table, and I dropped my bag beside them before continuing to look around. There was also a sliding glass door that led out to a deck or porch or something, but I couldn’t tell because all I saw was pitch black on the other side of the glass.

  I fought the urge to walk over to the large slider and pull the curtain shut. I never left windows open. Never.

  But this wasn’t my house, and we were on the second story, so even if someone wanted to peek in…

  But there could be a tree out there, or another building, or…

  “It’s safe here. There are cameras all around the property, and a paid security guard patrols the area every hour on the hour. Plus, there is no way anyone can be a peeping Tom.” Mr. D motioned for me to follow him out on the porch.

  When we stepped out onto the small balcony with two chairs, a small table, and a BBQ, and even a bird feeder hanging, I could see what he meant by saying no one could see us. The balcony looked over a manmade pond that had a fountain in the center. There were no trees to climb blocking the view, and no other buildings to use as a hideout. I could stand outside like this and never be seen by anyone at all.

  I could be outside… something I hadn’t done since…

  Mr. D walked back into the condo, and I followed. “So, I have two bedrooms, but I use the second room as my office. I don’t have a bed in there.”

  “I’ll sleep on the couch,” I offered as quickly as I could. Middle name Burden that I was.

  Adjacent to the living room was a small kitchen. It was clean, modern, and manly. Black granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and not even a hand towel or any clutter at all. But there was one thing out of place.

  I looked up at the ceiling and saw pasta noodles stuck all over.

  I giggled. “Why is there spaghetti on the ceiling?”

  He looked up, smiled, and said, “If you toss up the noodle and it sticks, then the pasta is done. It’s how I cook.”

  I laughed again. I was far from a cook, but his method seemed… very bachelor-like.

  “I don’t keep much in the fridge, but compared to yours, I’m a supermarket in comparison. Help yourself to anything.” He opened the fridge, pulled out a beer, and then looked at me. “Can I get you anything?” He even raised his beer. “Want one?”

  I laughed, surprised that my principal was offering me alcohol. “No I.D. required?” I teased.

  He shrugged. “If you’re old enough to die for your country, then you’re definitely old enough to have a damn beer. Plus, weren’t you just telling me over dinner that you’ve tasted wine in world-renowned wineries that you have to practically give a body part to be invited to?”

  I laughed but then shook my head. “Thanks, but no. I’m still stuffed from dinner.”

  Opening his beer, he led me down a short hallway. He pointed to the bathroom. “I only have one bathroom.” He pointed again. “My room.” His finger shifted toward another door. My office.” He then gestured to closet doors that lined the hallway. “I have a washer and dryer behind there.” He turned and glanced at what I was wearing. “We didn’t think of packing a bag of clothes for you.”

  I looked down at my school uniform. “At least I have on what I need for tomorrow.”

  “I can give you a shirt to wear of mine to sleep in, and if you want to wash your clothes so they’ll be clean for tomorrow, you’ll find everything you need above the washer.”

  Once again feeling like a burden, I didn’t have much of a choice but to nod in agreement. “If you don’t mind…”

  He walked into his room, and I remained where I stood. It didn’t seem appropriate following him into his private space. When he walked out, he handed me a gray Oakland Raiders t-shirt. I took it, feeling my face heat, and walked to the bathroom, silently laughing at the absurdity of the situation I was in.

  Here I was, with Mr. D, my principal, on a school night, having a slumber party, wearing his shirt.

  6

  Corrine

  I wanted to take him up on that beer but wasn’t sure how to ask now that the moment had passed. I sat on the couch, in his shirt and nothing else. I didn’t have clean panties, so I had no choice but to wash those along with my school uniform. He wouldn’t know that I was full commando, of course, but I did. And after the day I had, the evening I had, and now facing the night I had a fear I would have… I didn’t think an entire six pack of beer could settle me down.

  “I’m going into my office for a bit. I need to get a couple of things ready for a big meeting I have tomorrow,” he said as he stood near the hallway leading to the bedrooms and bathroom.

  I looked over my shoulder at him and nodded.

  “Don’t you have any homework to do?” he asked.

  I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Really?

  “Yes, Mr. D,” I said in a sarcastic tone. “Whatever you say, sir.” I couldn’t help but laugh as I teased. I was sitting in the man’s living room, wearing his clothes, and he was going to now act like a father figure.

  He gave a small smile back. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I mean…” He pointed to the backpack with the tip of his beer bottle, and in a very authoritative voice I had yet to hear from the man, he ordered, “Do your homework, Miss Parker, or else.”

  I laughed as he turned to make his way to the office. But he did have a point. I had a sizable amount of homework, and the thought of regaining some sense of normalcy to end a very frustrating, bizarre day, was very needed and even welcomed.

  It was obvious that Mr. D didn’t host dinner parties. The condo didn’t have a dining room. There was a small alcove off the kitchen with a round table and four chairs. Plenty of room for a single man, and the table seemed like a perfect spot to make my temporary desk. The alcove was surrounded by windows, however, and I wasn’t sure about sitting in the middle of them front and center. Mr. D had made me feel comfortable about the sliding glass door in the living room being safe, but he hadn’t done so about the rest of the windows.

  Just as I was about to go interrupt him from his work and ask, the doorbell rang.

  I froze with backpack in hand, not knowing what to do. I shouldn’t be there. I was wearing the man’s t-shirt. There was no way in Hell this would look appropriate to a single soul who witnessed it.

  Mr. D ran out of his office. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting guests either.

  “Go hide in my room,” he whispered, fear clearly written on his face. He obviously had the same thoughts that I did.

  We were fucked if someone saw me standing in his living room, especially dressed the way I was.

  I grabbed my books and did exactly as he ordered, quickly making my way to his room. Once I got inside, I still worried about being caught if for some reason they walked in. What if someone saw me enter? What if they wanted to search his apartment? What if it was a friend who walked about his house freely? I had no idea who was at the door, and I needed to prepare for the worst.

  I saw a slatted wooden door in his room, and figured it was the closet. Hearing Mr. D open the front door, I knew I had to act fast. Juggling the books in my arms, I opened his closet, entered, and squeezed myself to the furthest corner beneath his suits, his shirts, his hanging slacks, and sat next to all his shoes. Because of the slats in the door, the light from the room shone into the closet. Peeking through the slats, I could see his bed, his dresser, and another sliding glass door that I knew connected with the front balcony that was cracked open with a small breeze blowing in.

  I was breathing so hard that I worried about being heard. Closing my mouth and concentrating on inhaling and exhaling through my nose, I closed my eyes and listened closely.

  I could hear muffled voices but couldn’t make out the words exactly. All I could tell was that the other voice was a female’s. There also wasn’t any shouting or sounds of aggression, so at least I knew that whoever was visiting wasn’t here on bad terms or because they knew I was her
e. At least that was what I had hoped.

  I waited.

  And waited.

  And just as I considered getting out of the closet to go see if the guest had left because it had become quiet, I heard footsteps. I was embarrassed to have Mr. D find me in his closet, but I’d explain that I was taking the extra precaution just in case…

  Just in case…

  With my hand closed around the doorknob about to turn it, I saw Mr. D entering his room walking backwards with a woman pushing him toward the bed, kissing him. She already had his shirt off and was yanking at the button of his pants. Releasing the knob, I sank back down to the floor.

  He was far more muscular than I had imagined with a chiseled stomach, but what was even more shocking was that tattoos covered both of his upper arms, his pecs, and he had a full back piece. The tattoos were only visible on the parts of his body he could hide with a suit. All business on the outside, but beneath the expensive material and a tie was an ink-covered canvas of perfection.

  “Shelly, come on…” he said between the kissing. “I told you… I have a lot of work I need to get done tonight.”

  I watched how Mr. D’s eyes darted around the room looking for me.

  “That’s why I’m here,” Shelly said, not stopping her sexual advances. “I know how you hate all the board members.” She kept kissing him and lowering her lips to his neck and collarbone. “Except me, that is. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  “Shelly…” Mr. D softly pushed her back and walked over to the sliding glass door, trying to casually look outside, but Shelly simply walked up behind him and began to practically hump his leg as she yanked her dress up over her head revealing she was wearing nothing beneath it but a pair of black panties that barely covered her firm ass.

  Mr. D closed the slider, spun around and kissed her, fondling her bare breasts, as he led her away from the glass. I had a pretty good feeling he believed I was outside hiding on the deck, and by how hard he was trying to distract her and get her away from the balcony, he didn’t want this Shelly chick discovering me.