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"Not as much as it does for this one," he said, gesturing to the boy as he pressed the knife closer to his face.
"I'll pay for the damages as long as you hire him back," Mykie offered. "You know it's no trouble."
"Mykie, dear. That's not your responsibility," Chelsea assured, placing a hand on Mykie’s shoulder. She didn’t seem to have a problem with her husband pointing a knife at the boy, which made her question how many times he had been threatened before now.
"No, but I don't see a problem with paying for a few broken plates." Mykie dug around in her bag until she found her wallet and pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill, handing it to the woman. "For plates and for the meals, as I'm sure they would have been amazing."
"Dear, I can't accept this money..." Chelsea trailed off.
Mykie's eyes narrowed, becoming irritated by the way she continued to fight her on this. She was friendly with the couple usually, but something about this boy made her protective mode go into overdrive.
She lowered her voice. "He's under my protection as of this moment. You can either accept the money and allow him to have his job, or I can walk out of here with him and discuss further options with Chance."
Chelsea's eyes widened. "We didn't know Chance was protecting him—"
"Iam protecting him. He’s mine, and Chance will back me up if necessary. You don't want to get Chance involved. He won't be happy."
"Are you threatening my wife?" Clayton snapped. He let go of the boy, who sagged to the ground, seemingly unable to stand any longer.
"I've done nothing of the sort." Mykie smiled sweetly. "I'm offering money for the broken plates and the wasted food in return for Caspar keeping his job. Almost like this day never happened. Does that not sound reasonable?"
Clayton came over and took the money but glared at Mykie. "This only makes up for one incident. I was already on the last straw to fire him before today."
"So, no deal?" Mykie asked.
"I know not to make deals with one of you," Clayton sneered.
Mykie nodded, smirking at the couple. "Keep the money, then. It might be the last hundred-dollar bill you see for a while."
She threw her wallet back in her bag and looked over her shoulder, knowing that none of her friends would have stayed at the table. She gestured for Jezebeth and the boys to stand, and she had to give Noah credit for falling into sync with the other two and helping her appear to have a stronger, more fluid front.
She went over to Casper, who she saw struggling to get up while she had her discussion with Clayton and Chelsea. She bent down so she was at eye level with him.
"Are you hurt?" she asked gently. “Or just scared?”
The boy nodded. "I think I twisted my ankle."
Mykie looked over her shoulder, catching Dexter's eye. "Dex, I need your help."
Dexter nodded, pushing his chair back further from the table and came over beside Mykie. Together, they both got him into a standing position so Mykie could properly take Caspar's weight. She saw that Dexter wanted to offer to help more, but he trusted Mykie to know what she was doing.
"Tell me if anything else hurts," she whispered in his ear. She wrapped an arm around his waist to help him stay upright. Caspar had his arm wrapped around her shoulder, but she could tell that he was avoiding putting his entire weight on her. Her theory was proven when he almost crumpled to the floor when he tried to step forward.
"Idiot. Put your weight on me. I'm stronger than I look," she barked, and this time he did as she commanded.
“We’ll get out of your hair, then,” Mykie said as she looked at the angry couple.
“Don’t come back here. Threaten my wife again, and I will not let you leave as easily next time,” Clayton barked.
Now that Caspar was following basic directions, Mykie had an easier time getting him outside to her car.
She started rattling off instructions as soon as the door to the Corner Diner closed. "Jezebeth, open the passenger door. Dexter, go get anything that looks like Caspar's from wherever the employees keep their stuff. Noah... Noah, I want you to go with Dexter. Keep a lookout or whatever Dexter tells you to do."
Her three companions nodded and jumped to do their tasks.
"I don't know what to say," Caspar said quietly. "I can't believe you tried to get me my job back. I don't have any money. I... I can't pay you back for that."
"You don't have to," Mykie stated, not missing a beat. She wouldn't allow him to feel like he was some sort of charity or pity case. "I would have done it for anyone in that situation. Since I would have helped anyone else out, I'm also driving you to the hospital."
