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I narrow my eyes and clench my fist. He notices my reaction, and his face transforms from amusement to wariness.
“Do you even know who you’re talking to?” I growl, taking a few steps in his direction as Camilla stands directly behind me, apparently not wanting to deal with this guy. I stop a few feet from him, now fully aware I tower over him, my stature and build far stronger than whoever invited this pipsqueak to our community.
He takes another step back, trying to put some distance between us. I close the gap right away.
This time, he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He’s already trying to find his escape route.
Whatever excuse he’s going to come up with, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care.
The fact is, he insulted my girl. If he thinks I’m just going to let it go, then he’s even more stupid than he looks. From here on out, I’m protecting my girl from douchebags like him. If he believes he can take me on, then I’d very much want to see him try.
“N-no,” he stammers, realizing that he’s not getting out of this far easier than he thought. It becomes clear, almost immediately apparent, that he realizes who I was, processing in his mind how bad of a fuck-up his comment happened to be. His eyes widen, and he pales, his lower lip trembling. “Oh- Boss! I didn’t realize that it was you… I… I’m sorry.”
Yeah, no. Not this time. Not interested. I didn’t get to where I am because of my forgiving nature.
“Apologize.”
“What?”
“Apologize to Camilla.”
“A- I’m sorry, Camilla.”
“Mean it.”
“I’m sorry, Camilla!” he cries out, getting on his knees before realizing that this isn’t quite the plea for forgiveness that he’s hoping for. He knows what’s going to happen to him, and though a part of him has seemingly accepted his fate, he still flinches when I walk closer. Fear is good. It means he won’t ever forget this lesson.
Camilla simply looks forward, clasping her hands together at her waist as I loosen my tie and start to dish out the punishment in earnest. I hear her gasp, but I’m too intent on making sure this doesn’t happen again.
We drill this kind of thing the moment a person is accepted into the fold.
His disrespect and overall conduct are completely unforgivable and irreversible. What’s done is done. He can’t take back the words he said about Camilla. He can’t swallow his insult.
And now he pays the price.
Not giving myself much of a wind back to prepare from, I dial my leg back before slamming it directly into his upper body, feeling nothing but soft connection as he gets thrown back onto the sidewalk, the tip of my boot having collided with the exact soft portion of his lower torso. He coughs a few times, more than enough for his lunch to start coming up and out, which is exactly what I’m after. He gags and chokes on his own vomit.
I don’t wait for him to recover as I hit his side with my other leg, turning him over nearly entirely. Scum like him isn’t worth bloodying my hands, not even a real opponent as far as I’m concerned. He didn’t think twice, dropping a comment like that. So now, he’ll suffer the consequences. And this is exactly why no one wants to mess with me.
“W… whoa,” Camilla stutters behind me. I don’t know what she’s feeling or how she’s reacting to this, but I don’t dare keep my eyes off the other guy, knowing full well how horribly this entire fight could go if he’s going to get up and start turning on me, despite the difference in weight. Anything is possible, after all.
Besides, one of my rules in fighting is to never turn my back on my opponent, no matter how small or harmless they seem. Who knows if he’s carrying a butterfly knife he can sink into my neck?
“Count them,” I state flatly, looking him in the eyes, no matter how much he cowered, not daring enough to fight back. My voice is firm, controlled, and prepared for whatever effort I would have to expend in making sure that this wrong is righted at the end of the day. This is a lesson I’m certain that he would never forget in the future—that is, if I or the other Capos decide not to kick him out of the organization outright. He whimpers ever so slightly, letting out a groan to indicate the injury he sustained from my beating.
His body is going to take weeks to heal. Mentally, however, he’ll never recover.
I take a moment to prepare myself, fixing my footing before standing closer and issuing a strong kick to his side, more than enough to force him to roll over onto his stomach.
No response.
“Hey, did you hear me?” I ask, to which the bastard picks his head up.
“Fuck. You,” he answers defiantly, more than enough for me to have absolute permission to both get him removed off the face of the planet as well as protect my girl from a rogue character in our organization.
Rolling my shoulders, I stand to my full height and massage the back of my neck. This isn’t how I wanted to welcome Camilla, especially after that kiss we shared, but I also can’t afford to just let him go.
“I better get started then,” I say in a low voice, both of us aware that if he wants to make it out of this alive, he’d have to get his numbers up. A kick again to his side, connecting with the small interlocking of his forearm to his shoulder. Regardless of how he makes it out of this, his clothes are more than ruined.
