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“Let me go,” I said, fed up with the conversation and tired of being manhandled. I wasn't sure if Chelsea had gone to get help, but if she had, they were taking too damn long. “I already told you I can’t change the price, and I’ve done everything I can. Now you can leave the store the easy way, or we can do it the hard way.”
He smirked. “What? Are you gonna call the cops?” He cocked his eyebrow. “I’m not scared of the damn cops. And by the time they get here, I can destroy this entire place.” His eyes ran down my body. “And maybe have some fun with you in the meantime.”
Great. So he was a rapist too.
Jeez, I really didn’t get paid enough for this.
“Alright. No more being nice,” I declared. Without warning, my hand shot out and struck him in the throat, sending his Adam’s apple toward his spine. His eyes bulged as he choked, and at the same time, I drove my knee into his gut. His grip on my collar loosened, and he dropped to his knees, clutching his neck and desperately gasping for air.
“You bitch!” he uttered in a choked voice, managing to pull in his first breath. Unrepentant asshole. Just for that, I delivered another kick to his gut. When he tried to grab my ankle, I took a step back and said, “Security typically gets here in five minutes. And the cops sometimes patrol this area, especially since there was a recent drug bust next door. So this neighborhood is a high priority for them. You have two options: stay here and tell them the story of how you got beaten up by a girl half your size, or you can get the fuck out.” A smile formed on my face as he raised his enraged eyes to meet mine. “The choice is yours.”
“I’ll kill you, you bitch.”
“That wasn’t one of the options she gave you,” came a deep voice from the entrance, and I glanced up just in time to see Chris stepping through the doors.
His dark blue eyes briefly locked with mine, causing any clever retort I had in mind to vanish from my thoughts only met mine for a moment, but it was enough to have whatever clever thing I wanted to say next flying from my head. A peculiar sensation tickled my throat, rendering me momentarily speechless as his gaze shifted from me to the guy on the floor. There was a wry amusement in his smile. “Besides, at this point, I think it might be her who ends up killing you.”
The man’s attention shifted to Chris, and I anticipated a barrage of obscenities to follow. But, to my surprise, something unexpected happened. The man went pale, and his hand fell from his neck.
“You…” he gasped, fear and recognition evident in his voice.
“Yeah, me,” Chris said with a mild. “I own the store. I’m the asshole you want to talk to. So talk.”
The man shook his head, slowly rising to his feet. He cast a hopeful glance at me as if expecting my help. But I simply shrugged. I had tried to help him before, only to be thrown around in the process. Besides, with Chris present, the outcome was now beyond my control.
I waited, anticipation mingling with the tension in the air. The sense of danger and anxiety grew, and I found myself contemplating quitting for the third time this week. Perhaps, one of these days, I might actually go through with it.
Ha. Don’t fool yourself. You’re trapped here until further notice.
“I’m sorry, man,” the man finally spoke up, his voice sounding distinctly whiny in the tense silence. “I didn’t think this was your store.”
“And if it wasn’t?” Chris asked, not looking ready to let this go. “Is that an excuse for you to go around acting like an idiot and putting your hands on women?”
“No, sir.” He shook his head frantically. “I just…I need money desperately. A lot of money. My mama’s going through a hard time, and I want to help her out.”
Chris nodded. But if the man had hoped for any sympathy from Chris, then he didn’t know what he was dealing with. Chris had no care or compassion for anyone or anything that didn’t directly benefit him.
“Yeah, I heard. But here’s what you do in that case.” He came closer and put his hands on the back of the behemoth’s neck. He kneaded the muscles, but I could tell from the strength of his hold and the other man’s flinch that it was harder than a massage.
“You go and get a job,” Chris continued, speaking in a mild tone. “Or find something valuable to sell me. Then you can afford to take care of your mom. You don’t come here and threaten my employees. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” he nodded frantically.
“Get out.” Chris's tone was firm and left no room for refusal. The man had just turned to leave when I said, “Wait.”
He turned back, his wariness evident, and I gestured toward the necklace. “Do you still want to sell this?”
I could tell he’d completely forgotten about the necklace when Chris showed up. His sense of self-preservation kicked in, blocking out everything else.
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. I quickly counted the money, bringing out six hundred dollars.
“Have a good day,” I said, my voice filled with a mix of relief and tension as I handed him the money.
“Thank you,” he responded politely, and I couldn't help but suppress a laugh at the stark contrast between his current demeanor and the aggressive grip he had on my collar just moments ago.
“You’re welcome,” I replied with a smile, observing the man as he left.
I glanced back at Chris, questioning, “Should we have offered him more?”
