Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Then I felt the little fucker’s hands on my cut, and I turned quickly, glaring at the kid.
“Don’t touch me,” I growled.
The kid was five or six, at most, but the kid should’ve known better than to just go up and touch random people.
The kid in front of us knew not to. He’d looked, yes, but he hadn’t touched.
He hadn’t thrown a fit, either, when his mother said he could have tea instead of the Dr. Pepper he wanted.
“Don’t talk to Justin like that!” the mother all but screamed.
I snorted and turned around.
“You’re not even going to apologize?” the mother asked.
Freya’s hand on my arm had me tensing, but she didn’t say another thing, only pointed to the lady that was ready to take our order.
“You go first,” I said softly.
“At least he has some manners,” the woman behind me muttered.
The kid kicked the back of my knee and the front of my knee hit the counter.
I turned, slowly this time, and gave the kid the hardest stare I could muster.
I was good and pissed.
I’d had a bad day. I’d had a bad fucking two months. No, fuck that. I’d had a bad two years. I didn’t need this little kid’s bad attitude.
“How about you learn some manners and stop acting like a little asshole,” I informed the little kid who could’ve used some clean pants.
“Don’t talk to my kid! If you have a problem, you talk to me!” the mother yelled.
I crossed my arms and stared at her.
“Well, if I say anything to you, will you actually punish your kid? Or do you find it acceptable to kick strangers?” I asked. “It’s more than obvious to me that you’re not disciplining him. It’s also obvious that you could’ve cleaned him up a little bit before you brought him in here. Have you ever heard of a diaper wipe? Would’ve got that dirt and Kool-Aid stain right off his face.”
The woman was seething, I could tell.
She didn’t say another word, though, when I turned around.
“Mommy, he’s mean!” the kid yelled.
Then proceeded to pitch the biggest fucking fit I’d ever witnessed from a kid of that age.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ll get you an apple pie. Those make everything better,” the woman yelled at the boy.
Instantly, all crying ceased.
“And for you, Sir?” she asked, looking at me sympathetically.
“I want every apple pie that you have,” I ordered.
An outraged gasp came from behind me, but the lady standing in front of the register had to hide her smile as she turned.
When she came back with twenty-two apple pies, I handed over my credit card.
Freya didn’t say a word as we took our food to our seats.
And I laughed when the woman with the shithead kid glared at me.
“That was childish,” she reprimanded.
“I don’t know what to tell you. I’m obviously a child,” I muttered darkly, filling my drink up with sweet tea and ice before walking to the table that had the game console at it just so that woman couldn’t sit there and keep her kid entertained either.
Freya snorted as she watched me choose our seat, then sat down and started eating in silence.
The woman had obviously just told her son he couldn’t have any pie because there weren’t any, since the screaming from the child started up again.
I looked up in time to see the woman point at me, then her smile widened and she headed for the table that was directly next to us.
I watched them come, curious to see what they’d do.
They didn’t disappoint.
She sat her son on the bench that was only a scant foot away from ours, then proceeded to eat her meal while her kid screamed away.
I then took pleasure in moaning about how good the shitty apple pies were, and how much fun it was to play on the stupid, wall-mounted computer game that only worked half the time.
The kid screamed louder.
The mother glared.
I gave her a thumbs up.
The McDonald’s started to empty out after that, and soon it was just the two groups.
I ate more than enough pies.
Freya ate her food, trying her best to look as if she were unfazed and uninterested.
The mother ate half her hamburger, most of her fries, then sighed and got up.
“Let’s go, Justin,” she ordered.
Justin screamed louder.
She growled beneath her breath and threw her trash away before coming back, picking up her tantruming, kicking kid, and carrying him out the door.
“Feel good about yourself?” Freya asked.
I smiled. “Pie?”
She didn’t find that anywhere near as funny as I did.
I threw eighteen pies away.
There was no way in hell I could eat anymore, and I didn’t want to take them home and have to retell the story to my sister.
Holding the door open for Freya, I breathed her in as she passed me, purposefully keeping my arm in the way so she’d have to pass by me closely as she exited.