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for Harry. You will drag him down and everyone will get hurt. He’s too busy and important to waste time explaining every tiny little thing to you in small words so you can understand. Let him go to London and you can stay here, selling underwear and pretending you aren’t as dumb as you look.”
“Oh hell,” Kirsty wailed.
Magenta barely noticed her cry. All she saw was that smirk on Rachel’s face, and the next thing she knew, her fist was flying straight for it.
21
Harry was in the middle of an enlightening conversation with his high school English teacher when his phone rang. He apologised profusely as he reached for it, thinking it would be work. He was puzzled to see Kirsty’s name on the screen.
“Hey, Kirsty,” he said as he smiled at Mrs. Adams.
“Get your backside to my shop right now. You need to stop Magenta from killing Rachel. Oh crap, got to go.”
The line went dead. Harry stared at the phone for a second. What the…?
“I’m sorry, I need to go. Kirsty said Magenta is in a fight at the lingerie shop.” He could hardly believe the words came out of his mouth.
Mrs. Adams didn’t look surprised. “Some things never change. That girl has always had a short fuse, especially if someone called her an idiot.”
Harry’s stomach tried to climb out of his oesophagus as the blood drained from his face. Rachel wouldn’t. Would she? He hung his head. He should never have told Rachel about Magenta’s dyslexia.
“I need to run. Now.”
He was out of the door at a sprint as Mrs. Adams called out her goodbyes behind him.
The high school, like everything else in Invertary, wasn’t far from the main street. It took Harry less than five minutes to get to Kirsty’s shop. What he saw made him screech to a halt.
On the floor, in the middle of a completely trashed lingerie shop, were two wrestling women. Magenta’s T-shirt was ripped, flashing a fuchsia-coloured bra. Her hair was wild and there was a crazy glint in her eye. Rachel’s designer dress was up around her hips, allowing everyone to see that she was wearing underwear from Kirsty’s new pink tartan line. There was a scrape on her thigh and it looked like her manicured fingernails were broken. She was also missing one of those red-soled shoes she loved so much. Magenta was on Rachel’s back, trying to strangle Rachel with a green satin bra. Rachel, in turn, had a death grip on a leg that had broken off a mannequin. She was using it to pummel Magenta. The noise was phenomenal. He’d heard quieter catfights.
Harry’s jaw fell open as he spotted his cousin Matt, in full police gear, and Kirsty’s fiancé Lake standing off to the side. Both men were grinning as they watched the fight.
“Why the hell aren’t you stopping this?” Harry shouted at them.
“We tried,” Matt said. “Magenta kicked me with those bloody boots she has on. I think they have steel toe caps.”
“Rachel bit me.” Lake held up his hand, which had a Band-Aid on it.
“We decided to enjoy the show until they ran out of steam,” Matt said.
“Not every day you see women wrestling in a lingerie shop.” Lake let loose with a full-blown grin. “I told Kirsty to film it. Rachel’s wearing one of Kirsty’s designs. She could use this for publicity.”
Matt nodded. “I’d watch it again. Especially since they started using lingerie as weapons.”
“We need to break this up,” Harry told the idiots. “Kirsty’s shop is getting trashed.”
“Yep,” Lake said. “You’re paying to have it fixed.” He pointed at the women. “This is your mess.”
Before Harry could reply, Kirsty came barrelling through from the back of the shop, carrying a bucket.
“Out of my way, you perverts,” she shouted.
The men stepped aside. Lake eyed the bucket.
“You’re a genius,” he told his fiancée. He turned to Matt. “What would make this better?”
They grinned like idiots. “Water,” they said at the same time.
Harry was about to step in and haul Magenta off Rachel—well, try to, anyway—but Kirsty was too fast. She emptied the bucket of cold water over the two women. There was coughing and spluttering. The women broke apart as they wiped water from their eyes. Rachel tried to stand, but slid on the wet floor. It took her two more attempts before she was on her feet, and then she realised her dress was around her waist. With a growl, she yanked it back down. Magenta sat on the floor, wiping her face on the edge of her T-shirt.
