I Am A Multibillionaire Dad

13

For a couple of seconds, there is silence.

“Am I starting to hear strange words in my head?” One of them asks.

“Right? I'm not the only one who heard that?” The guy with the cigarette asks.

Weston comes out from behind the wall and strides to them. “What could he have done to deserve such beating?”

“Come here,” the guy with the cigarette says. “Come here and get on your knees beside him.”

Weston chuckles. “Are you some gods…oh…you must be another damn leader of some shitty group.”

“Are you drunk?” One of the guys walks over to Weston in a bid to grab him by the collar.

Weston dodges, the guy almost lost his balance but he holds himself right in time.

“Get on your knees while I'm still being kind,” the guy with the cigarette says.

“You still haven't answered my question,” Weston says as if he isn't the one the guy with the cigarette is talking to. “What could the boy have done…” Weston kicks backward at the guy behind him, sending the latter crashing against a wall.

One of the guys in front of him comes forward with a little ax in his hand. He rushes at Weston, holding the ax, aiming at his chest. Weston dodges the guy easily, collects the ax and flings it at the wall behind the head of the guy with the cigarette.

Everyone froze . The eyes of the guy with a cigarette widen.

“You…what…are…” the guy with the cigarette stutters.

Weston walks over to the boy who is still on his knees. He stretches out his hand and the boy holds it with a trembling hand.

Weston pulls the boy up. He walks the boy closer to the guy with a cigarette.

“Slap him,” Weston instructs the boy.

The boy stares at Weston. “Slap…slap him…?”

“Yes. Slap him as hard as you want,” Weston says, his eyes fixed on the guy with a cigarette.

“I can't…I can't…I…” the boy whimpers.

“If you don't, I'm going to leave you here and they will deal with you in the worst way you can ever imagine,” Weston says.

With his right hand shaking, the boy raises up his hand, moves it closer to the cheek of the guy with the cigarette and slaps him rather lightly.

“Is that how much you can do? Should I slap you so you know how loud a slap should sound?” Weston glances at the boy.

“I'm sorry…I can't…”

“I am going to leave you here then,” Weston lets go of the boy's hand.

Almost immediately, Weston hears a loud sound. For a second he is shocked. Is it the boy's slap that sounds as loud as that? He glances at the boy. A smile falls across Weston's face. He nods at the boy.

Weston looks back at the guy with a cigarette. A hard look is on the guy's face, a side of his cheek reddened as a result of the slap.

“He just slapped you.” Weston rubs it in. He notices the guy's clenched fist. “Next time I see you picking on others for no good reason, imma instruct a ten year old boy to climb a chair and slap your fucking face.”

The guy glances at the boy. “You'll meet me tomorrow.” He starts to walk off.

“Shouldn't you be ashamed? You're threatening this little boy, if I'm wrong, correct me. You're in your final year and—”

“Shut the fuck up!” The guy erupts, turns around and walks over to Weston. “Shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you.”

“Stop making threats you can't keep, it makes my stomach grunt.”

“You think you can come here and mess with us just because you've got some damn fighting skills?”

“When did I ever mess with you? Oh…you think I messed with you because of what just happened? Nah, dude, if I start to mess with you, you won't be standing three feet away from me.”

“If you're sure of yourself, let's meet here at ten p.m. today.”

“My schedule is filled up today,” Weston says.

The guy scoffs. “What?”

“You heard me right.”

“Man, leave him. We've got important things to attend to,” one of the other guys says.

“The one who will show him where he belongs is coming.”

“Santiago will deal with his fucking ass,” another guy says.