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17
Sofia was grateful for the tiny restricted lab between her classroom and Kim’s—most especially, she was grateful that it had a sink so that after crying her eyes out in Karen’s office, she could dab water on her face without having to go to the teachers’ restroom to do so. There was no mirror on the wall here, but she had a compact in her purse.
She used it to check her face and hair. She didn’t wear much makeup, and the light coat of mascara she’d applied before leaving her mother’s house was waterproof, meaning crying hadn’t resulted in the dreaded panda eyes. She painted on a fresh coat and smoothed tinted moisturizer over any blotches on her face, then brushed her hair and redid her ponytail. There. She was as pulled together as she could be.
Maybe she could get a mirror put in here and find a place to stash stuff she’d be needing as…things went on. As my pregnancy advances, she made herself think. She hadn’t done much thinking about it so far, but what would she need, here at school? Not just cosmetics and toiletries for touch-ups after emotional outbursts, but maybe saltine crackers and hard candy for nausea? Could she arrange a space for a cooler, to store electrolyte drinks and ginger ale for dehydration?
Sure. Might as well ask the vice-principal for a mini fridge while I’m at it.Sofia snapped the compact mirror closed. She thanked all the stars in heaven that her first class on Mondays wasn’t until second period. She needed a respite before facing a classroom full of teenagers. With a final smooth of her hair, she exited the smaller lab and locked the door behind her. Teenagers tended to be naturally curious, especially about places they weren’t allowed into, and she didn’t want any of them trying to get into that off-limits space.
Having plenty to be getting on with, Sofia set her laptop on the long desk under the whiteboard. Before she got down to the administrative work she usually did during this period, she pulled the classroom door open a crack, mainly to hear if Kim was late in arriving for first period and she had to usher his class in and settle them down until he rushed in. It wouldn’t be the first time, and she doubted it would be the last.
She’d just started typing up her notes on the suggested curriculum changes when her door was pushed open roughly enough to make her jump. “Kim—” she began, but the gentle rebuke she’d intended to administer to the other teacher died on her lips.
It wasn’t her fellow chem teacher. This was a dark-haired and dark-eyed man, one who kicked aside stools to stalk toward her, the gun in his hand pointed at her. He wasn’t anyone she recognized from here at Southwest, for all he had a school staff badge—the electronic ones they used to key into the building—dangling from the other hand. The mocking way he waggled it made it clear it didn’t belong to him, that he’d taken it. As her stomach sank, she wondered who he’d gotten it from—and how badly they’d been hurt.
“So-fi-a Pop-ov,” crooned the stranger in a singsong voice, raising his gun to her head.
Sofia stumbled to her feet, knocking her chair over in the process. Her heart in her throat, she raised her trembling hands. “Please, don’t shoot,” she begged. Every educator had been trained in what to do in case of, God forbid, a school shooting, but she didn’t think the strategies she’d practiced would help now. Not when a gunman had come specifically for her. “Wh-who are you?”
“Mateo.” The man smiled as if they were at a social event. Then his face sharpened. “And you’re the nosy bitch who got the DEA sniffing around. Which is why you’re gonna get what’s coming to you. Is that a quid pro quo or a tit for tat? I wouldn’t know—I’m no educator.”
The flatness in his dark eyes chilled Sofia. “Please, no—I-I’m just a school chemistry teacher! The police didn’t take me seriously. Even the school admin didn’t do anything!”
“The first detective you spoke to did. The lab tech at Nexium did. The file clerk did.”
The man’s mocking reply made no sense to Sofia, and she shook her head in incomprehension.
“Don’t you worry. All these concerns will go away real soon,” Mateo promised her.
A smirk curled his lips, and Sofia felt as if the last seconds of her life were ticking away. Wait. Not just her life. “Please. Before you do anything, know I’m pregnant.” She lowered her hands slowly and cradled her stomach.
“So?” Mateo’s shrug made the gun waver, and that terrified Sofia more. Tears slipped from her eyes and her whole body shook.
“Hmm.” Mateo tilted his head to one side. “This”—he gestured at her with the gun and used his other hand to run a finger from his eye down his cheek, imitating the tears trickling down Sofia’s—“I like. It’s given me an idea. So, I’m not gonna kill you here, Ms. Nosy Lady Teacher.”
Oh, thank God! Sofia had to clutch the edge of her desk when her knees threatened to give way in her relief.
“Yeah…you’re too good to keep all to myself, my little secret.” Mateo nodded. “Now, a public execution? That’ll be a real good lesson to all the people who work for me and the cartel on this side of the border. Teacher, lesson, get it?”
Sofia shook her head.
“Teachers like to help people learn, right? So you’re gonna help me teach them that if they talk to the police or the DEA, what happened to you will happen to them and their families.”
She got it then, and she instinctively tried to run from him. But she only got a few steps before she came up against the locked door of the small lab. Mateo was on her in a second, his body slamming her into the wood, and his hand coming up to clamp over her mouth before she could scream.
“You know what?” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “I might not be a teacher, but I do like technology. So, your execution? I think I might livestream it.”
He laughed as he dragged her to the door.
* * *
Ian tried not to roll his eyes as he studied the list of requests for Bronte Security Services operatives that Charlie had forwarded to him. He had already suspected Charlie was sending him busy work, but the sameness of the jobs—rich guys wanting former SEAL bodyguards for the cachet, not out of any real need—didn’t exactly have his blood pumping. Thanks for nothing, he felt like calling down the corridor, loud enough for Charlie to hear it in his office.
This looks promising, Charlie had noted on one. A woman, for a change, but the same sort of thing. And no, Ian didn’t care for the idea of escorting her to some event because she was wearing priceless gemstone for the jewelers she was an ambassador for, even if doing a good job would mean further work from her and perhaps the store.
He didn’t bother glancing at the name on his phone when it rang, just pressed Accept, thrilled to have the distraction—but his son’s voice had him sitting bolt upright in his chair.
“Gavin?” Ian said. His heart sank. “Please don’t tell me you’re in trouble at school again, especially this time of the morning—school hasn’t even started yet.”
