And two, he had on that fucking blood-red bandanna that the fucking Bandits wore.
If this kid wasn’t Damian’s brother, if this kid wasn’t associated with the Bandits, then it was the wildest fucking coincidence I had ever seen in my entire life.
I stepped forward to confront the little punkass—
“Are you stealing from my store?”
Looks like she beat me to it.The mini-Damian turned to Katie, a condescending sneer on his face.
“I’m checking out the merchandise, you fucking bitch,” he said. “Is this how you treat all your customers? Accusing them of stealing?”
“I accuse the ones who are guilty of the crime, yes,” Katie said.
She didn’t yet see me, being blocked by the aisles of candy. I chose to remain quiet for the moment. I didn’t want to encroach unless I had to; aggressions between the Reapers and Bandits had a way of exploding based on unnecessary engagements.
“How fucking dare you!” the teenager said. God, I wanted to smack the little asswipe. “I’m just a good customer here. You know what?”
He pulled out his phone and started recording.
“My name is Marco, and I was just shopping here, when this racist store owner, this white girl right here, she tried to accuse me of stealing from her store.”
That was it.
“She’s just another spoiled white girl who thinks she can get her rocks off accusing minorities like me of crimes we didn’t commit. We, hey, what the—”
I shoved his camera to the ground. I stepped between him and Katie.
“You should be really careful of who you go and accuse,” I said. “There’s a whole host of laws she can sue you for.”
“Who the hell are you?” this kid, Marco, I guess, said, but he sounded like he was about to piss himself.
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” I said.First rule of getting in a fight is you never identify yourself. Easier to get away if you have to that way.“What matters is that you tried to steal from this store, now you’re trying to bullshit whoever the fuck you want about this woman, and I’m not going to allow that.”
“Fuck you, man!” the kid shouted, the kind of shout that sounded like it was on the verge of falling into tears. “She, she, she—”
“She, she, she,” I mocked back. It was a bit much—except for the fact that this had to be Damian’s brother. “Leave this fucking store. Learn a thing or two about not stealing. And the next time you come here, make sure you only take what you can pay for.”
The kid stammered and scowled at me.
“My phone’s still recording!” he shouted. “Everyone will know you’re a racist too!”
“You think I give a fuck about what you recorded of me?”
I loved seeing this asshole’s face go white.
“You think I give two shits about what you’re going to say on TikTok or Facebook or whatever fucking app you used? Kid, the more of an asshole you make me look like, the better it is for me. I assure you that you are only fucking yourself over.”
It was so damn tempting to bring his brother into this. I had to fight not to do that.
“I will say this one more time. Leave this fucking store. Don’t come back unless you have cash.”
“No, don’t come back at all,” Katie said behind me. “I can ban customers if I so wish. And you’re one of them.”
“What?” the kid said, his eyes starting to water in fear. “You can’t do that! This is a free country! That’s bullshit!”
“Private property, private business,” Katie said. “My store, my rules.”
“Get the fuck out, and don’t come back.”
