All the ass–kissing was clearly inflating Willow’s
ego.
“Bitch, you better get on your knees right now
and scream ‘I’m a cheap–ass wannabe! I
messed up!‘ Maybe, just maybe, I’ll think about
letting you off the hook.”
I’m twenty–six years old. Nobody had ever had
the balls to talk to me like that.
“Say that again?”
“Are you deaf? ‘I’m a cheap–ass wannabe! I
messed up!‘ Can you not hear?”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “Got it. Since you
already know you’re a cheap–ass wannabe, why
don’t you get the hell out of my way and stop
embarrassing yourself?”
Willow realized she’d been played. She wound
up her arm and swung at me.
Please. I’ve got a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. I
could take her down with one hand.
I kicked her legs right out from under her. She
went down hard, screaming like a banshee.
Everyone around us gasped. “Oh my God! She
just attacked Willow!”
“Blake Harrington is going to have her drawn
and quartered.”
“She’s screwed. Even Jesus couldn’t save her
now.”
I didn’t give a damn. My family practically built
the Harrington’s empire. No one in this city
scared me.
I slammed my card back on the counter. “Ring
it up!”
The saleswoman looked like she was about to
faint, but she swiped the card and bagged the
dress.
I grabbed the bag and turned to leave.
But Willow scrambled to her feet and blocked my path. “You’re not going anywhere!”
I waved my hand in front of her face. “You want another taste of my foot?”
Willow flinched, and I laughed and kept walking.
