𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 46: 𝐌𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭?

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°

“I know,” Breanna’s eyes hardened. “But he likes to watch his work … let me give him a show.”

Sophia hesitated then glanced at her.

“You sure?”

“Tell the team to take the school. Every hallway, every door, every face.” Breanna snubbed.

“I will meet Principal Ortiz in the meantime”

Sophia watched her go. Without waiting She slotted the team everywhere.

Radios whispered confirmation. Doors were checked and barricaded with practiced hands.

Hallways that had been mere thoroughfares became choke points mapped by eyes and palms.

☆☆𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥☆☆

“Principal Ortiz?” Breanna called, meeting him by the lectern. “I'm Detective Stewart”

Orituz’s face turned paper-white, >why is the police here?

He however gave her a curt nod and excused himself from the podium.

“Yes, Detective. To what do I owe this visit?” he asked backstage.

“Sorry for the uninvited intrusion though,” she began, her tone soft so it would carry only to him.

“No issues,” Ortiz shrugged. “I was already done with my speech”

“Blade Knuckles is in the building.” Breanna told him without preamble.

Ortiz’s hands trembled at the name. “How?”

“Long story” she hissed, easing her shoulders. “As it stands now, there’s a corpse in the staff lot — Lorenzo Creed”

“That’s our guest speaker” Ortiz's teeth clatter. “and I have been trying to reach him for a while — the kids?”

“No panic. I’ll take care of the ground.” She assured him. “But do not — under any circumstances — stop the seminar or let anyone evacuate early.”

“I understand,” he nodded.

“Inform every teacher to secure corners. Incase anyone spots a man walking on his own without a family, they shouldn't hesitate to report”

She added before stepping back into the corridor.

####

“God damnit” Antonio cussed as two officers appeared at the end of the back corridor — blocking it.

He had been threading through arriving parents and guests for over five minutes, but the lockdown was faster than him — precision and face slap working hand in hand.

To make matters worse, he noticed their eyes lingered longer on the men.

That meant they had a description.

Not waiting to be spotted, he angled away like water finding a new seam.

The restroom.

The men’s room was cool, fluorescent buzzing,

He stopped inside.

For some fractions of seconds he waited by the doorway — calculating in shallow heartbeats.

Then in a single motion, he surged, opening the nearest faucet.

Water thundered into the basin.

He turned the next one too, and then another — until the sinks were roaring in unison.

A concrete wall of noise that would buy him seconds and mask what he needed to mask.

He pulled out his phone and thumbed the only contact he trusted.

The call connected.

“Cabron,” Grinch spat before he could speak. “The client is satisfied and payment's transferred to our offshore account.”

“My safety is temporary,” Antonio countered softly.

“Where the hell are you?”

“Vista Grande Elementary School,” he replied, gaze flicking toward the door. Footsteps and voices approaching. “She already called in a federal task force.”

There was silence on the line for a beat, then Grinch exhaled a curse. “On my way, just—”

Antonio dropped the call before he could finish.

Even from a hospital bed, Grinch was the only man he trusted to come.

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he made a run for it.

He successfully scaled into the next bathroom just as the same time as the male's own opened.

“It appears a kid left an irresponsible mess.” Antonio heard one of the men grunt.

“Bathroom check clear,” the door creaked after the men as they left.

He heaved, but as he tried to relax, the door pushed open and steps stormed in.

“—I wanted vanilla,” a little boy's voice echoed.

“That’s enough ice cream,” a woman whom he assumed was the mother countered gently. “Your shirt’s a mess and the seminar isn't even over.”

“Please?”

“No,” the lady maintained her stance. “You will eventually end up with a sore throat, and that I can't put up, with”

“Okay —” the boy agreed, but his tone says otherwise. “Can I get a video game instead?”

Antonio's pupil dilated at the demand, but more were still on the way.

“Okay…you don't have to be silent. I get that you’re mad about my mid-semester result, but how about we go shell hunting after the—”

“Junior!” the woman snapped and it cracked Antonio up, to the extent of peeking.

It turned out to be the Bulgarian woman and the little NeoMexicano boy, who had visited his house.

His phone buzzed and he jolted back to his hot seat. A notification from Grinch.

>By the Trash trunk. It read.

“I need to get out,” he pondered instinctively.

Peeking at the mother scolding her son in the locker space over ditching classes, an idea clicked his head.

The boy's features could easily pass for his own offspring.

Without wasting a beat, he creeps out of the stall.

“— do better in the final — wait a sec” Junior blinked mid blabber. “Aren't we in the Ladies?”

“Obviously,” the woman —Nevena— sighed, squeezing water from a shirt under the sink.

“You don’t expect me to wash your mess in the men’s, do you?”

“No, but — why’s Mr. Hunt here? Is a lady washing him up too?”

“Antonio?” Nevena rolled her eyes, turning sharply. “Stop blathering s….”

“Hello” Antonio's bass rumbled to her face.

Her legs buckled and gave way, but he caught her by the waist, steadying her against his frame.

“He's real,” she tittered at the surprise.

“Told you” Junior reckoned, closing in on them. “I’d have been happy to meet him two days ago — but now? Nope.”

Antonio arched a brow at him, unsure whether Breanna declared him wanted under that short period.

“Huh? Why is that?”

“Is nothing — he’s just been naughty” Nevena sniggered, trying to ease the growing tension,

“Junior,” she grasped. “Say hello”

But Junior paid deaf ears to her. He crossed his arms and blasted out on Antonio.