If it hadn’t been real life, what happened next would have been funny, but the knife was very real, and Damien was lunging at my dad with it. Dad raised his mop and shoved it into Damien’s face. The teen boy went crashing to the ground, arms waving. Dad stepped closer and pressed the mop into his chest to pin him down. Damien glared up at him murderously and wiped his face.
“Sarah, go get help,” Dad told me, but there was no need. Security was already in the hall running toward us. With all of the high profile children that attended Noble, we had practically a small standing army.
Security fanned out and encircled us. I realized with a start that all of their guns were pointed at Dad. “What are you doing? Damien attacked us,” I said, moving closer to Dad .
“David Smith, put down the mop and come with us,” Capt. Timmons said. He was the head of security. The fact that he was there should have alerted me that things weren’t going to go like I expected.
Security and maintenance had never been close, but I’d thought that they’d always had a bit of mutual respect for one another. None of that was in the captain’s eyes as he looked at my father.
“He didn’t do anything wrong! It was Damien West. He pulled a knife on me,” I said.
Dad laid the mop down and put his hands up.
“Sarah, it’s going to be all right. You should get to class,” he said.
“Are you joking?” I tried to block the guards as they moved in to take Dad by the arms, but they pushed me roughly aside. I stumbled back and watched in horror as they escorted him away.
“Dad!”
He looked back at me with guards all around him. “Don’t worry, Sarah,” he said. They disappeared around the corner.
Capt. Timmons had remained behind. He knelt in front of Damien West and held out a handkerchief. Damian grabbed the piece of cloth and wiped his face with angry swipes. “He should be shot,” he said.
My eyes went wide, and I launched myself at him in blind fury. I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t care about getting into trouble. I managed to slap Damien once before Capt. Timmons hauled me back.
“Let me go!” I shouted, struggling like a wild animal in the captain’s grasp.
“Sarah Smith, calm down,” he said.
The captain had me one arm pinned behind my back. It felt like it was about to pop out of its socket if I kept struggling. urning calm had my struggles lessen. The boy leaned into my face with a smirk.
“That was your father?” he asked.
I spat into his face.
“Sarah!” Capt. Timmons shouted and turned me away.
“Let her go,” Damien said.
“Sir?” Capt. Timmons asked.
“Let her go.”
“I’m sorry, sir. But she is clearly a danger to your well-being. I will have to escort her to the cells.”
My mind was a swirl of incomprehension. That psycho had pulled a knife on me. He was still holding the knife! Yet I was the one in trouble? My father, who’d only meant to protect me, was in trouble?
“Let her go!” Damien screamed.
Capt. Timmons immediately released me. I turned and stared at both of them.
Damien picked up my bag and threw it into my stomach. “Let’s go to class,” he said.
I clutched my bag like a shield and stepped back from both of them.
Damien held out his hand, beckoning me. “You heard your father. Let’s go to class.”
Go to class? He was insane. I turned and ran. I had to tell Mom what had happened. We had to save Dad.
As I ran, I heard Capt. Timmons say to Damien, “Sir, if you please, I would like to get a statement from you about what happened. You’ll, of course, be excused from class.”
I thought I heard Damien sigh, but I was slamming through the doors into the courtyard, headed to the cafeteria. I didn’t hear his reply.
I burst into the kitchen and screamed, “Mom!” The bevy of chiefs, cooks, and underlings froze and turned to me in surprise.
Mom immediately left her station to come to me. “Sarah, what are you doing here? You should be in class.”
“Security took Dad!”
She gasped. “What? Why?”
Everyone had stopped to watch and listen. Lunch prep forgotten. “A student attacked me, and Dad hit him with a mop to get him off me and then security took Dad into custody. What should we do?”
The swinging doors opened behind me. A pair of security guards entered. “Sarah Smith, please come with us.”
I turned to stare at them. “What?”
They flanked me and each grabbed an arm. “We need a statement.”
“Is she under arrest?” my mother demanded.
“No, ma’am. We just need to speak to her.”
“Then take your damn hands off her.”
The guards seemed to realize that they had an audience. A large audience, who all had knives. They let go of my arms.
Mom put an arm around me and drew me away from the guards. “We will follow you,” she said.
The guards exchanged uncertain looks and turned. Mom turned to say something to Gustav, the head chef. He’d moved to the front of the crowd of onlookers. He held up a hand. “Just go. But we will want all the details when you return,” he said with a glint of a smile.
I didn’t know what there was to smile about. It felt like my world was crashing down.
Mom ushered me out of the kitchen. The guards had waited for us. They moved in close to escort us, but they didn’t reach out to take hold of me again.
Security’s HQ was in the central courtyard like the cafeteria. It was a squat, featureless building that looked out of place among the rose bushes and fountains. We were escorted directly to Capt. Timmons’s office. When we entered, I saw that Damien West was lounging in an arm chair across from the captain. He was in a school uniform now. He must have had to change due to the mop water. Mom and I weren’t offered seats. Damien looked over his shoulder at us and smirked as his eyes went over my mom’s apron and cap. I found myself stepping in front of her to shield her from him, but she put her hands on my shoulders and moved me out of the way.
“Capt. Timmons, what is going on? Sarah tells me you took my husband into custody.”
The captain nodded toward Damien. “He assaulted this student.”
“It was a misunderstanding,” Damien said.
Mom crossed her arms. “Is that so?”
Her expression seemed to amuse Damien, who smiled widely back at her.
Capt. Timmons coughed. “Yes, Mr. West assures me that your husband merely over-reacted to seeing his daughter being hit on by him.”
“What? That’s not what—” I started to protest.
Capt. Timmons continued over me. “And thus, he’s willing to drop all charges if Mr. Smith simply apologizes.”
“No! What about the knife? He was threatening—”
“Have you informed my husband?” Mom asked.
Why were they speaking over me? Why weren’t they listening?
“Mom!”
She gave me a hard look and shook her head.
“He’s being brought up now,” the captain said.
Mom gave a clipped nod and looked away.
I turned to glare at Damien West. His eyes were already on me. He smiled, and I saw his canines again. I had to look away or be in danger of launching myself at him once more.
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