Chapter Ten
Once he’d left Twyla, Gunnar headed to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich for dinner. Despite not being hungry, he ate the whole thing before starting his phone calls. Couldn’t set a bad example for Twyla and forget to feed himself even if he was full of nerves and she wasn’t awake to see it.
He did wonder, though, why she hadn’t eaten for almost twenty-four hours. Did she have an eating disorder? Was her family so poor she didn’t have enough to eat? Or maybe too chaotic to keep everyone fed? Didn’t matter, she wasn’t going back there. Not after what he’d seen.
He took a deep breath and blew it out of his mouth before dialing Principal York. This was not going to be pretty but he had to keep his cool. Mostly because he may have already lost his job, but he was damn well going to keep Twyla.
Jim York answered the phone pretty much how Gunnar expected.
“What the fuck, Gunnar? You have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Good evening, Jim, nice to speak with you as well.”
Okay, perhaps antagonizing the man with a wry answer wasn’t the way to go.
“I’ve had the mayor and a dozen other parents calling me, I’ve heard six different stories from those knuckleheads you sent to my office, you’ve been MIA for the past several hours, and I’ve had enough. You’d best be giving me the truth right now because I’m this close to firing you already. Now talk.”
Gunnar explained how he’d seen the boys ganging up on Twyla and how they’d already started beating her when he arrived and pulled them off. Named all the names and what he’d seen each one of them do, never mind that it made him feel like his sandwich was going to make a reappearance.
“After I sent the boys to the office, I made sure Miss Smith got appropriate medical care and then brought her home.”
Which was true—but had her parents called the school? Did Principal York know she wasn’t there now? Or did Twyla’s parents really care about her so little they didn’t give a shit that some man they’d never met absconded with their injured daughter? Fuckers.
“So she’s at home now?”
Gunnar closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. As far as he was concerned, yes, Twyla was home where she belonged. But he doubted Jim would feel the same way and he wasn’t going to lie and dig himself any deeper into this hole he was already staring up out of.
“Miss Smith is at my home currently. She’s asleep.”
There was a pause and Gunnar held his breath, set his elbows on his knees as he wondered what the hell Jim was going to do with that information.
“Do you know how this looks?” Jim’s voice was ice, his fury a cold hiss. “A young handsome teacher having a student spend the night at his home? It’s not good. You’re a great teacher but I don’t know if the district will be able to weather this shitstorm you’ve thrown us into.”
Gunnar clenched his jaw. Jim had a point, but so did he. “Have you met Twyla Smith’s parents?”
There was another pause before Jim sighed. “I had to escort her step-father out of back to school night because he showed up intoxicated and not in a way I could ignore.”
“So you know what he’s like. I don’t know that her mother is much better. Twyla is a student at your school, she’s severely injured, and she wasn’t going to be safe at home. Her step-father grabbed her when I was standing right in front of him and blamed her for being assaulted. I don’t want to think what would’ve happened if I’d left her there.”
Another pause that seemed too long. Gunnar got up and started pacing. What was he going to do if Jim insisted he bring Twyla back to her parents? Pack her into the car and drive? At least she wasn’t a minor, but that would still be bad. Very bad.
“You’ve put me in a real spot, Fox.”
Jim sounded tired and frustrated, but Gunnar also thought he sounded sympathetic.
“I know, and I’m sorry for that. I just… I couldn’t leave her there.”
“You said she’s asleep?”
“Yes. She had a really rough day and it doesn’t seem to me that the days before that were much easier.”
“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. I haven’t heard from her folks and it doesn’t seem like they called the cops, either.”
No, it didn’t, and while Gunnar was glad for that, he had to wonder why the hell not.
“I’m going to come by your place first thing tomorrow morning and the three of us will sort something out. Maybe she could stay with a friend.”
There was a silence between them, probably because they were both thinking the same thing: it didn’t really seem like Twyla had much in the way of friends.
“Or family? I don’t know, but we have to—”
A strangled cry from down the hall interrupted Principal York’s musings and Gunnar was off like a shot, his heart beating hard and fast just like it had this afternoon.
“Jim, I gotta go. Let me know what time you’ll be here tomorrow.”
He hung up before Jim could answer and raced down the rest of the hallway to the guest room.