Page 92 of Broken Vows

I should just leave it.

Then I picture her in her driveway, wiping tears from under her eyes and trying hard to pretend she was fine.

I reach under the seat and pull out the gun Drew fucked up. It still doesn’t sit right in my hand since he fucked with it.

I think about bringing it for about half a second. Then I shove it back under the seat.

I’m not shooting a community college teacher over a shitty grade.

Probably.

I take my switchblade instead. For something like this, I’d usually just use my hands. But I only have one of them right now.

The receptionist is easy. They always are. A smile, a lie, a bit of confidence, and people point you exactly where you need to go. Five minutes later, I find Block C. Room 214.

I don’t knock.

The guy behind the desk looks up, mid-forties, smug face, one of those pretentious sweater-vest things stretched over his stomach.

“Can I help y⁠—”

I cross the room in three strides, grab him by the throat, and slam him back against the whiteboard.

Pain rips through my left shoulder so sharply my vision whites out for half a second. My grip slips when my bad arm gives, and Henderson drops to the floor with a strangled sound.

Fuck’s sake.

Before he can scramble away, I step on the edge of his sweater vest and pin him there.

His eyes go huge.

Good.

A man like Paul Henderson probably thinks danger is a strongly worded email from HR. He has no idea what to do with me.

His hands fly up in surrender. “Please⁠—”

“You made her cry.”

“Excuse me?”

“Carmen. You made Carmen cry.”

His face shifts. Not guilt. Annoyance.

Wrong answer.

I pull the knife from my waistband and crouch in front of him, resting the flat of the blade lightly against his throat.

“You’re going to give her a fair grade. Actually, better than fair.”

I press the knife a little closer to his throat. Not enough to break skin. It doesn’t need much help from me.

“Some of her work was right. You know it was. So you’re going to fix it.”

His throat bobs against the blade.

“Then you’re going to keep fixing it. Because if you fuck with her again, I’m going to come back here in a much worse mood.”