Page 4 of Carter
“Not my fault,” he mimics, in a uber-whiney voice. Using his fingers to make quotation marks in the air. Mocking me like I’m some hormonal teenager who hasn’t handed in her homework. “That’s all I ever hear from you. It’s not your fault the contractor threatened me in my own home. It’s not your fault I had to bribe the housing committee to get permission to rebuild my fucking patio. It’s not your fault the caterers are pulling out and ruining my party. I’ve had enough, Makayla. I need someone who can take responsibility for their actions. Someone who doesn’t have this cloud of disaster hanging over their head. You’re like a walking fucking train wreck.”
“Please.” There are tears in my eyes, and I hate myself for getting this emotion in front of him. “I’ll do better. I know I will. I really need this job, Graham. Please.”
“That’s right!” he says, stepping forward. Getting in my face. “You’re mother’s fucking pills. I knew it was a mistake the moment I hired you. I never hire fat people. You’re too lazy. Don’t have enough self-discipline. But you gave me that sob story about your mother being ill and you had great recommendations and I guess I took pity on you. But there’s only so much I can take of your total and utter incompetence. I bet your mother isn’t even sick. It’s probably some fucking story you made up to play on my emotions.”
“Emotions!” I say. Finally, I’ve had enough. I can’t take any more of his bullshit. “Like you have any! All you care about is yourself. And your stupid party!”
“That’s it!” he growls. “Get it all out now while you can. Because as soon as you leave this room, you’re done. You’ll never work in this town again. Not as long as I have anything to do with it. I’ll get you blacklisted. You won’t even be able to get a job cleaning the shit off the walls in the public restrooms.”
“Your a small, bitter, little man,” I say. “And you’re getting old.”
He grins. A wicked smile that sends a shiver running down my spine. For a moment, I’m worried he might slap me or stab me or grab me by the head and bash my brains out against the wall.
“And you’re a disgusting, morbidly obese whore,” he says. His voice is quiet. Calm. It’s the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. “You’re a piece of shit on the bottom of my shoe. I hope your mother dies. I hope you have to nurse her every day for the rest of her miserable life, knowing that I am the one who has prevented you from being able to afford the medication she needs to survive. I hope you sell everything you have in a desperate attempt to save her, but it all goes wrong and you end up sleeping on the streets, turning tricks for five bucks a piece. I hope you contract AIDs. Like the fat, degenerate cunt you really are.”
“How about you pick on someone your own size?” Carter says.
I didn’t even realize he had entered the room.
I can’t help but feel ashamed at what he must have just witnessed.
How much of it did he hear?
“Great!” Graham spins around. His face is red. A vein is popping out on the top of his bald head. “Another one of my useless employees, here to ruin my life.”
“The only one ruining lives is you,” Carter says. There’s ice in his voice. A rage brewing beneath the surface that makes Graham’s outburst look like a tiny little fart in the midst of a hurricane. “Now turn around and apologize to the lady. Or didn’t your parents teach you any manners?”
“Or what?” Graham swaggers up to Carter and pokes him in the chest.
I feel like I’m watching a clown at a carnival poking a bear.
Carter cracks his neck on both sides. His movements are slow and precise. Like a well oiled machine. “Or I’ll make you,” he says.
4
Carter
“Oh, no! Another fucking threat from the big bad construction worker,’’ Graham says. “I’m really shaking in my boots.”
“I’m warning you,” I growl.
“Oh, yeah? You won’t do anything. I know your kind. You’re all talk. Men like you just want to look good in front of the mirror. You think you’re better than me because you’re bigger and stronger. Well, I’m smarter… and richer. I could make your life so fucking miserable, you don’t even know. Now go back outside and carry on with whatever it is you were doing. Like a good little boy. This doesn’t concern you.”
“I’m making it my concern,” I tell him.
“Fine!” He rolls his eyes at me. Let’s out a sigh. “Both of you, you’re fired. Get the fuck out of my house. Vamanos. You and Fatty fucking Poppins. I never want to so much as see you again for the rest of my long, amazing life.”
I ball my hands into fists at my side. Try as hard as I can to calm down.
He can talk trash to me all he likes. But insulting Mikayla like that is not something I can let pass.
Before I know it, I’ve grabbed the collar of his shirt and picked him up off the ground.
I pull my arm back and punch him straight on the nose.
The look of shock on his face is priceless. I wish I could take a picture. But now I’ve seen blood, it’s like I can’t control myself.
I hit him again. Over and over until he’s on the floor curled up in a ball crying, his face a crimson mess that only a plastic surgeon will be able to fix.
