Chapter 3 - Drawing the Line in the Sand
“A scrape?” Mira’s voice cut through the heavy afternoon air like broken glass. She looked up at Sloane with absolute venom. “Her fingers are broken, Sloane! Look at her hand!”
Barrett stepped forward, puffing out his chest the way he always did when he wanted to intimidate someone into backing down. He dropped the grilling tongs onto a patio chair with a loud metallic clatter.
“Alright, that’s enough hysterics,” Barrett said, waving a hand dismissively as if he were shooing away a bothersome fly. “Accidents happen at pool parties. Boys will be boys, and girls need to learn to stay out of the way of athletes. We’ll pay for a copay at urgent care or whatever. Just stop making a scene in front of the whole family. You're ruining your parents' barbecue.”
My father started to step forward, looking uncomfortable, muttering, “Now, Barrett, let's not get carried away, the girl is hurt—”
“Dad, stay out of this,” Barrett snapped, cutting my father off with the casual disrespect he always showed anyone who didn't bow to his financial success. Barrett made partner at his firm three years ago, and ever since, he treated the rest of the family like his inferior tenants. “Quinton just can't handle that my son is a competitive athlete and his daughter is fragile. It's pathetic.”
Maddox smirked, leaning against the patio umbrella pole, clearly feeling invincible now that his father was running interference.
I didn't yell. I didn't scream.
I stood up slowly from where I had dropped beside Elowen. I kissed the top of her damp head, whispered, “I’ve got you, bug, I've got you,” and then stood straight.
I walked past Mira, past my frozen parents, and stepped directly into Barrett’s personal space. Barrett towered over most people, but I matched him inch for inch, my eyes locked onto his smug, condescending face.
“You think this is funny, Barrett?” I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm.
Barrett sneered, crossing his thick arms. “I think you're a dramatic loser, Quinton. Always have been. You spend your life coddling that kid while Maddox is out here winning trophies and securing his future. Maybe if you taught your daughter some toughness—oof!”
I didn't hit him. Violence against his face wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to destroy what he loved most, the exact same way his son had destroyed my daughter.
With a sudden, lightning-fast movement, I reached out and grabbed the expensive, gold-plated Rolex watch strapped securely around Barrett’s thick wrist—the one he bragged about buying after closing his “million-dollar mega-deal” last month, the ultimate symbol of his precious corporate pride.
“What the hell do you think you're doing?!” Barrett barked, lunging forward to swat my hands away.
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“Testing how much pressure it takes,” I whispered coldly.
With a sharp, vicious twist, I yanked the watch band. The expensive metal clasp snapped under the leverage, and the watch flew off his arm, arcing gracefully through the air before plunging straight down into the deep end of the swimming pool, sinking instantly into the dark, murky blue depths at the bottom.
