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I pulled back with all of my bodyweight, but my dad wasn’t having any of it. He pulled me forward l
ike I was 6 and didn’t want to go to soccer practice because I got too dirty.
“Stop it!”
“I’m not going to let him kidnap you. We’ll put you in therapy. It’ll be fine.”
“Dad, stop.” I pulled on my cuffs.
“I’m sorry about this, sweetheart.” And then he took a thick silver pen out of his pocket and jabbed me with the pointy end.
It wasn’t a pen at all. It was some kind of tranquilizer, because all of a sudden I was falling into my father’s arms.
I felt him dragging me through the doors that he’d indicated earlier.
Then I didn’t feel anything.
Therapy Session
Naelle
TWO DAYS LATER
“Dad, for the thousandth time, I’m not brainwashed.” I snorted. “As if he could!”
“Kid, if I thought that you genuinely wanted to be with that thug, I’d institutionalize you. Nobody would want to run away with Emilio. Don’t you know what he’s done?”
I was quiet. We’d had this same conversation over and over. We were beating a dead horse at this point.
“I knew what he’s done,” I told him. “And I want to be with him anyway.”
“And that’s why we have an appointment with a therapist.”
“Fine.”
I looked out the window. We were pulling into a parking lot in a nondescript set of office buildings in a part of town that I’d never been in before. I’d never gone to therapy before.
“We’re here.”
I got out of the car. At least my dad had removed the handcuffs before I woke up inside of a different plane.
Unlike Emilio’s jet, the military jet had been sparse. It was functional, but it wasn’t very pretty.
I hadn’t spoken to my father the entire time that we flew back to DC. He knew how I felt about it. I knew how he felt about it. I knew that he was trying to do the best thing for me, but I also couldn’t believe that my dad had forced me to come home when I’d clearly left of my own volition. Yes, he believed that I had somehow been brainwashed, but I didn’t understand how he thought I’d been indoctrinated. It wasn’t as if Emilio had hypnotized me or anything.
My phone and laptop were on Emilio’s jet. I hoped that he didn’t think that I’d just bailed on him, but I was worried that he did. He told me not to leave the plane, but how was I supposed to know that my dad was lurking and waiting to make me come home?
I closed the car door and followed my dad into the therapist’s office, my arms crossed and a scowl on my face.
I felt like a sulky teenager.
My dad opened the office door for me. It was part of his code.
I just shook my head at him. He believed that women should be honored and protected. I always thought it was a good thing, but it was really a two-edged sword.
I went inside of the therapist’s office.
My dad gave me a half hug.
