“Mi wah link Jet mom, so mi a drop yuh off a work,” he says.
“Been a while since you drop me off,” I smile. He hands Zahir to mama.
“Mama, mi a leave now enuh. Tek care.”
“Okay mi bwoy,” she chuckles. “Him a go cry.”
“Nah mek him see mi leave.” Nickoi waits until she disappears into the kitchen before stepping out, taking the fob key from me. I follow as he scans his fingerprint and opens the garage.
“Soon mek Genius add your print to it,” he murmurs.
“Okay.” I can’t stop smiling. He opens the Benz door for me and I slide in, moving my shoes and bags to the back. He shakes his head.
“Why women always have dem car like this?”
“Lowe we,” I laugh. His attention shifts back to the finger print.
“Mi nah get the time fi mek him come dweet man… but yuh can drive any one of the cars enuh. Just seh the word,” he starts the engine. I feel my cheeks flush as I lean into the seat. He bites his lip and pulls out of the driveway.
***
I’m in the middle of my class when the intercom interrupts me. I slowly cap the marker, turning toward the speaker. “Good afternoon, colleagues and students. Sorry for the interruption,” the principal begins. “Teachers, please ensure all students return to their form classes, accompanied by their form teachers.” Asigh slips out. Class just did a get nice enuh man. Chro. The students grow restless.
“Guys, please settle down. Gather your things and head to your form class,” I say, trying to mask my own curiosity. What’s happening? As I step into the hallway, my heart lurches. Soldiers. Police. In the school yard. Huh? I don’t stop walking. Can’t show fear. I enter my form class.
“Afternoon, Miss Williams,” they chorus.
“Good afternoon, students,” I smile, trying to stay calm as Adrian stands.
I gently motion for him to sit. “That’s fine, hun. I’ll handle it today.”
He’s a sweet kid. No need to always have him wiping my space. Twenty silent minutes pass. Nerves hum. Whispers swirl. Then gasps. A tall man steps inside the room, soldiers and officers at his back. The principal trails behind, at a distance. The students freeze. So do I. But I keep my face straight.
“Greetings,” the man says, he has voice deep and firm, his British accent rich. They murmur a shaky response.
I rise. “Good afternoon, sir,” I manage. He nods and walks slowly to the front.
“You’re probably wondering what’s happening,” he begins.Yes, mi wah know! The girl in my head practically screams.
“You’re probably wondering who I am… and why I have nine police officers and twelve soldiers behind me, in a room full of sixteen-year-olds.” He pauses. Chills crawl up my arms. “A student from this school was involved in a shooting last night,” he says. “We believe he’s here.” The class gasps. Wah? He scans the room with steel in his eyes. “A sixteen or seventeen-year-old criminal is sitting among you.”
The silence is deafening.“I came here when you least expected. We’ve searched every class. This is the last one.” I swallow. Hard. “You might think you can hide,” he says.
“But I’m Detective Mario, and if I don’t find what I’m looking for today… I will find something.”
Then, to the soldiers: “Search.”
38
Spoil
Soft jazz hums in the fashion studio, but I barely hear it. My attention’s
lock on the sketch Matteo just rendered from the drawing I sent him. We’re working on her dress. I flew in Matteo, Milan’s finest to bring our vision to life. Cause when it comes to Zara? Nuh regular designer cyaa handle that.
“She a go love this dawg,” Gutta grins, stepping back to take it in. “Mi a tell yuh, she nah go wah take this off.”
“Yah. When a time fi the honey moon we’ll see about that,” I say with a smirk, stroking my beard. Truth is, mi already a plan how mi a go peel it off her… slow.
