Over the Edge

Ch. 7-Vendettas of the Personal Kind

~Rhys~

It was hard to ignore the death glare Uncle V was shooting into the side of my head as I leaned against the check-out counter. I even arrived early, a silent apology to him, because he knew I never did anything like that through words. I had prepared the back room for Emma to destroy it, and I hadn’t said a word, yet he was still pissed at me.

“Here,” Michaela stated crisply, throwing my apron at me. “Emma will be here soon.”

Right. So Michaela was also pissed.

Not to mention Emma wouldn’t exactly be flattered to see me.

I was just outnumbered, wasn’t I?

No sooner had I fastened the thing around my waist than Emma was strolling through the door. At least she had dressed the part, with old jeans and a t-shirt, her hair up in a bun. She smiled at Uncle V.

“Emma!” he exclaimed, grabbing her face and kissing both her cheeks loudly. Michaela did the same. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“You as well,” she replied happily. Her eyes trailed over and found me, and they hardened instantly. The smile dropped from her face. I was sure everybody noticed the menacing glare directed at me. I shifted my feet.

“Hi,” I mumbled. She sniffed, not answering. She looked at Uncle V again.

“Do I get an apron, too?” she asked. Uncle V nodded, smiling, and tossed her one identical to mine. She tied it around her waist.

“Rhys, why don’t you take her in the back and get started?” Michaela suggested with her back to mine, straightening the papers at her podium where she greeted and sat people.

I sighed, shoving off the counter and walking into the back. Emma’s soft footsteps sounded behind me. I didn’t bother looking back as I retrieved a bag of dough and emptied it onto the counter’s surface.

“Do you work at being an asshole, or does it just come naturally?”

I whirled around, not having suspected such a thing to come from her mouth. “Excuse me?”

Her arms were folded tight over her chest, lips pulled together. There wasn’t anything spectacular about her. Nothing I would even want to coax into the bed drunk. And when I was hammered I bedded anything.

She stepped up to the counter beside me. I kept my eyes on the side of her head.

“You make it your number one priority to bitch at everything that walks by,” she said, turning her head and looking at me. “You may think your devil-may-care attitude is hot and badass but it just makes you an unapproachable jerk.”

My eyebrows shot to my hairline.

“I waited for three hours for you to show up,” she ground out, jabbing me in the chest with her pointer finger. I would never admit it out loud, but, it kind of hurt. “And you never fucking showed up. So if anybody should be giving major attitude it’s me.”

“Emma—”

She slammed her hand down on the counter, curling her fingers into a fist. “I’m actually trying here, dammit!”

I smirked. “Are we done with the theatrics?”

She huffed, stomping her foot. “Listen, Richardson. I’m sorry you seem to hate everything. I’m sorry you have some personal vendetta against the world. But news flash; it’s not going away! And you being so damn pissy all the time won’t make it go away!”