Page 24 of Naughty and Nice
The shelter was a windowless lecture hall near the back of the building. Before the structure was converted to the apartments, the room was a storm shelter with extra-thick cement walls and only two entrances/exits. Now it was tiered with rows of chairs and tables, the biggest classroom on the premises.
Izzy reached for my hand as we followed Horace through the eerily empty hallways. “Is this necessary?”
The answer came as the hallway went dark, and the sound of gunshots reverberated from a distance.
“Sí, es,” he said.
The darkness gave way to the strobing effect of the emergency lighting. Horace’s attention was everywhere as he unholstered his gun. Shrill alarms accompanied the flickering lights.
“Back to the offices,” he shouted over the alarms.
“The women,” I said. “They have to be frightened.”
“Now,” he ordered.
He led the way we’d come. Once inside the office suite, he took us beyond my office and Izzy’s, to Mia’s office. “Go in the bathroom and lock the door.”
The bathroom?
“We’ll stop the intruders,” he said confidently. “If we don’t, we’ll convince them that everyone present is in the shelter. Stay in here until I come for you or one of the lieutenants does.”
Izzy stepped through the doorway and offered me her hand. “Come on, Liliana.”
My feet wouldn’t move.
“Liliana.”
“No. I should be with the women. That’s why I stayed.”
“Come on,” she demanded.
“You stay. Em doesn’t want anything to happen to you.” I turned to Horace. “No one will miss me if anything happens. I’m not agreeing to using the women as decoys. I need to get to them—now.” When he narrowed his gaze, I added, “Por favor.”
Horace clenched his jaw, his focus going to Isabella. “Señora Ruiz, stay here and lock the door.”
Izzy nodded, taking a step back.
I hugged Izzy. “You’ll be safe.”
“I’d miss you.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and followed Horace. “Stay close behind me,” Horace instructed.
“Sí.”
He locked Mia’s office and then locked the main door to the office suite. We were past the library and nearing the lecture hall when the emergency lighting cut out, leaving us in total—thicker than ink—darkness. The squealing alarms stopped. Even in the silence, my ears rang with the now-absent squeal. I reached out, trying to locate Horace. My fingers grazed his suit coat.
He reached for my hand. “Just a little farther, señora.”
“Where are our guards?”
“Hopefully, keeping the intruders outside.”
At the back entrance to the lecture hall, Horace used his badge to open the door.
“It was locked?” I asked. “What if there’s a fire?”
“The lock keeps people out.”
