090: Mall incident
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**Chapter 90**
“So when you said you were rich, you meant filthy rich, right?” Carol asked. Ross’s sister. Sara’s friend. She said it like she was only half joking.
“What gave you that impression?”
Carol didn’t answer with words. She just turned her head.
Down the aisle, Sara was holding a scarf up to a dress like the fate of the country depended on whether the shades matched. Her face was deadly serious. The clerks around her looked like they had already accepted God.
We had split up, mostly. Sara, Carol, and I were one group. Sasha had wanted to stay with me, but she ended up with Mira instead. Mira didn’t want to be left alone with Ross, and she made that obvious enough that Ross looked like someone had kicked his dog. Sasha didn’t argue much. Going with Mira also kept her away from Carol’s stepbrother. He was afraid of Ross, so he didn’t lurk near them. Where he went after that, I had no idea.
Betty was with Mira’s group too.
As for us, we shopped. And by “us,” I meant Sara. Carol and I sat on the sidelines while Sara’s inner shopping demon went to war with every expensive brand in range.
“You seriously think it’s okay to spend that much?” Carol asked after the third bag hit the floor.
“She rarely does that,” I said, because somebody had to defend her.
“Right.”
Even I was having a hard time believing myself. Carol was right. Sara was insatiable in a mall. I might have to dedicate an entire business just to fund her. The more I thought about it, the less it sounded like a joke. There was an industry I had already been considering. Maybe it was time to dip into that too.
“Hey. I’m done.”
Sara came back glowing. Behind her, the manager and clerks looked blessed. The people hired to carry the bags looked like they needed their last rites.
“You sure?” Carol and I asked at the same time.
“Of course I’m done. There’s nothing in this shop I want anymore.”
“In this shop?”
An ominous feeling crawled up my spine.
“Yep. Onto the next shop.”
She turned and walked like she was about to conquer the next nation in her path. I started chanting mantras under my breath. I had never done this much shopping in my life. Everything I owned would have fit inside one of Sara’s trips.
“Scratch that. You won’t be rich for long,” Carol said. The smirk was there, but the sympathy was real. I agreed with both. At this pace, I was going to have to declare bankruptcy on something just to feel alive again.
Sara stayed true to her word. She didn’t empty the stores. She just took every limited piece that fit her. Three of one shirt. Two of a jacket. A bag that cost more than some people’s rent.
“Why buy three of them?” Carol asked, staring at a limited-edition top that only had three in production that year.
“Because she doesn’t like it if someone else wears the same thing as her,” I said.
Sara patted my back, proud. “Well said, darling.”
“My sympathies,” Carol said.
Sara only harrumphed, spoiled and delighted, and kept going.
By the time we were done, my wallet had spiritually passed on. We headed to the meeting spot, after sending the stuff to my car, and found Mira’s group already there. The douche was with them.
So were a few people who had not been invited.
My expression darkened the second I saw Betty tucked behind Mira. Mira had an arm out, blocking, like she could physically stand between Betty and the rest of the world.
Three men. Biker gear, and not the movie kind. The cheap, mean kind. The kind that used leather to look bigger than they were.
“What’s going on?”
“Oh? Who’re you, pretty boy?”
The one in front stepped in close and dropped a hand on my shoulder. Ross tensed like he was about to jump. Sasha already had her phone out. Cops, from the look of it.
“From the Angels, I presume?”
“Haha. So you know us.” He patted my cheek. “Then stay back, kiddo. Our business isn’t with you.”
I didn’t answer him.
I took the hand still on me.
Crack.
The sound was clean and ugly. His wrist bent in a direction wrists were not meant to go. He stared at it first, confused, like his brain needed a second to catch up to the split bone. Then the pain arrived, and the scream came out of his soul.
“What the…!”
The other two finally moved. Too late.
I stepped into the one on the right before he finished reaching for whatever was in his jacket. My hand found his elbow, and I turned it until the joint gave with a wet pop. He dropped to a knee, making a sound that wasn’t quite a word.
The last one rushed me. I couldn’t fine-tune the speed. My shin met his knee.
I felt it go.
Something white and milky pushed against the torn fabric at the point of impact. Bone. Too much of it.
Yikes.
Gulp.
Gulp.
Gulp.
The sounds around me were all the same. People stepping back. Bags hitting the floor. Someone whispering a prayer they didn’t believe in.
I looked down at the three of them, and the only thing I could say was…
“Not again.”
I was lucky the last time hadn’t caught up to me yet.
What followed was simpler than the fight.
Police arrived. The one in charge was a patrolman, not a detective in civilian clothes, which was good. Detectives liked speeches. Patrolmen liked quiet endings. Most of them weren’t trying to climb out of vice. The ones who were? Those were worse than detectives.
No charges stuck. Self-defense, more or less. Betty’s grandfather got involved fast. These same men already had a record with her and the city. The whole thing went into a hole quicker than I expected.
I still called my guy. No tapes. No phone videos living long enough to become a problem. They handled it.
In return, I was asked to cover the medical bills. If the city paid, my name would go deeper into paperwork than anyone here wanted.
“Shall we eat?” I asked when it was over.
Nobody spoke at first. Not even Sara, and she was the least shaken of the bunch. They agreed anyway, because sitting in public looking haunted was worse than sitting down with food they might not taste.
We got a table. Menus. Water. Silence.
“That was something, huh?” Sara said, trying to pry the air open.
Everyone stared at me like I was a painting that had started bleeding. The one shaking the most was the douche. What was his name again?
“Why aren’t you all eating?” Sara asked. She was the only one who had put a fork in her food.
“No-no reason,” Carol stammered.
Earlier she had been angling toward me every other sentence. Now she wouldn’t even meet my eyes.
The rest were the same. Some of them weren’t looking at me because they were scared.
Some weren’t looking because of something else.
[Lust level: Orange]
Pink haze poured off Sara and Sasha hard enough to fog my head. Betty had it too now, but hers was a mosquito next to their elephants.
Eating became a joke. My pulse sat too low in my body. The seating made it worse. Boys on one side. Girls on the other. No accidental contact. No hand under the table. I was pretty sure none of them had the nerve or the practice for anything with their feet either.
My boner was killing me. Simple words for a complex problem.
“Wasn’t that a bit—” Mira started.
“Excessive?” I finished for her.
She didn’t deny it.
I smiled anyway. “They were trying to harass Betty again. You know perfectly well what happened last time. They should be glad I stopped there.”
A few more gulps. Different people this time.
“Still—” Mira tried.
Sara cut in. “Enough. We’re not in the wrong here. They are. So let’s drop this topic and enjoy our day.”
That was the sentence everyone had been waiting for. Permission to pretend. It worked. The table loosened. Talk came back in pieces. Lives. Classes. Who saw what store. The douche tried to join and got iced out without anyone needing to announce it.
Ross tried Mira again. Mira dismissed him like a fly. Sasha and Sara started making jokes. Betty stayed the most composed person there. Carol slowly crawled back toward her old job.
Hitting on me.
As for me...
[Lust level: Red]
[Berserk state imminent]
[The user is advised to relieve himself]
‘Fuck. Give me a break for once.’
~~
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