Each sentence hid a soft sharpness.
Rosalie stood there noble and classy, using a graceful posture to mask bias as justice.
I listened and could not stop a bitter laugh.
“Say sorry?”
“I won’t take it.”
I slowly pulled my collar closed, fully covering those shaming characters completely.
My fingernails pressed into my palm, aching, yet not even one ten-thousandth of the ache in my chest.
I looked at Rosalie and spoke each word plainly. “Since you can’t deal with this properly,”
“I’ll handle it my own way.”
I turned and left.
As the door shut, I faintly caught voices inside.
“Just now, Keagan’s look scared me so bad my spine went cold. When has he ever been humiliated like that?”
Someone added with doubt. “Keagan isn’t easy to face; he likely won’t let this drop.”
Rosalie’s voice sounded level and sure.
“No, I know Keagan, he’s only talking in anger, he won’t truly hurt Fritz.”
She paused, then continued, “And with me standing in front of him, he can’t do anything.”
Several people traded uneasy looks.
No one thought Rosalie, who had always gone along with me in everything, would protect Fritz like this.
Someone instantly chuckled and buttered up, “Of course, now Fritz sits highest in Rosalie’s heart.”
I stood beyond the doorway, a chilly smile slowly rising on my mouth.
No revenge?
Then I would not live up to the Porter name.
I got into the vehicle and pulled out my phone.
“Tonight at twelve.”
“Bring Fritz to me.”
“And get skin repair tools and a medical crew ready.”
A bit after eleven, my phone display lit up.
My sister sent a note. “I had guards take Fritz. He’ll reach the old house in twenty minutes.”
I was just about to answer when my friend sent a video.
I opened it, and Fritz was grinning widely at the camera.
“Today I drew a special piece for an old guy.”
He waved the tattoo tool before the lens.
“Guess what I inked on him? ‘Nashville No.1 Bootlicker’!”
“You didn’t see, he’s already thirty and still dares to show his chest. His skin’s so slack the needle barely stayed. I pressed hard on purpose three times, no matter what, it won’t fade.”
The comments flooded in wildly, “Main lead energy."
“Nice work.”
“Hahahahaha.”
Fritz grew more excited as he talked, pride glowing in his eyes.
“I’ve met plenty like him. Living off family cash, buying purses, sipping tea, chasing women all day. Not like me, I opened a shop at twenty using my own craft.”