A Debt of Vows

Chapter 8: Come at me!

Mabel's POV

“I see,” The bitter words spilled through my gritted teeth, my stomach churning in disgust at the mention of his name.

“Let's head there right away. You can drop these for now, we might still have a chance to turn things around.” He said pleadingly.

If only he knew.

He tried to take the box from me but I resisted. Shooting him a warning glare. I wasn't going to talk to any stupid Landon.

“What makes you think he will budge?”

“Are you already giving up without trying?” He snapped with a disappointed frown.

I could feel the anger boiling within me, threatening to rip me apart.

“Do you have any idea how enraged I am?

I'm resisting the urge to go to InfiniTech Global and disfigure his proud face.” I growled aggressively.

His eyes grew wider with a slight hint of panic; quickly putting his palm over my mouth, he whisper-yelled, “Are you crazy? Someone could hear you!”

Yes, I am crazy. Ever since I met that creature, I've overused my brain and now I'm emotionally stressed. I need to punch someone. Someone has to take responsibility, it's been a while since I last trained.

Dropping the box on the desk closest to me, I forcefully yanked his hand from my mouth. A move he didn't anticipate, causing a wince to escape his throat.

I held his arm over my head, twisted it, held it on his back, and forced him to bend over to the nearest desk.

He let out a painful cry.

“If you try that again, I'll make sure you don't use this arm anymore,” I warned him. He knew too well about my temper to mess with me, yet somehow he always got tangled up with it.

“Why are you taking it out on me? I'm only trying to help!” He cried out in agony.

How I wish it was Landon. I let out a disappointed hiss, letting go of him as I arranged my disheveled hair.

The other employees watched but didn't interfere, this was nothing new to them. This was us just being us.

“You didn't take Martial arts just to oppress me, did you?” He whined, massaging his arm. I rolled my eyes at his childishness.

It's not my fault he didn't take his training seriously, because if he did, he wouldn't be whining over such a little thing.

We both trained in martial arts, Judo, to be specific. But Dylan, being so feminine, ditched most of the training. He was always on the run, so he never really was involved in anything.

“That's to show you I didn't get a 5th dan black belt for fancy,” I said mockingly.

Reaching 5th dan (Godan) in judo by the age of 30 is considered exceptional.

However, for a 23-year-old lady like me to achieve this rank, it would require an early start, intensive training, high-level coaching, dedication, and perseverance.

Being the only child of my father, who is crippled, made me toughen up, even though I don't look like it. I had to take extra training; I didn't have an older sibling to look after me, and my dad, fearing that I might be bullied, enrolled me in Judo training at a very young age.

At first, my Aunt Rose objected, she complained that I was too young to be subjected to such harsh training, but my father was insistent on training me in self-defense. And I'm grateful he did.

Dylan grabbed the box and dashed out, taking me by complete surprise.

“Hey!” I yelled, obviously not in the mood to play.

“Will you come to InfiniTech Global with me?” He asked as he hopped, his face to me and his back to the way. It seemed like I didn't give his arm enough twist, that's why he could snatch my box effortlessly.

“Give it back!” I demanded, my expression an indication that I wasn't in the mood to play.

“Will you?” He asked further, ignoring the hint to back off.

“I'm not playing,” I told him, my face rigid and my tone stern.

“I know.” He said. With that, he sprinted out of the building. I slapped my palm on my face. He never listens.

Defeated, I went after him only to find him already standing in front of his car grinning like an i***t.

Opening the passenger seat, he dropped my box inside and turned to me.

“Come with me to InfiniTech Global.” He deadpanned.

I approached him, arms crossed, slightly amused by his persistence.

“You never give up, do you?”

“Never.” He shook his head. I moved closer.

“Are you going to hit me?” He moved away as I neared him, maintaining a safe distance.

A soft chuckle escaped my lips.

“I like it when I take you unaware. So, no.”

“You're such a big bully!” He lamented.

I opened the door to the front seat and entered. “Are you going to stand there and whine like a baby?” I raised a questioning brow.

“I don't whine.” He frowned before taking the wheel.

I ruffled his hair and chuckled. He's so cute. Just the little brother I never had.

*******************************************

Thanks to Google Maps, we located the place in no time. We pulled into the parking lot and stepped out.

The building was massive but lacked aesthetics. Construction was almost done, only the decor remained. It's hard to believe that this was built in less than 2 months. Money sure does wonders.

Just a few touches here and there and it's all set!

At the top of the building was boldly written ‘INFINI-TECH GLOBAL’

There were men dressed in black suits, wearing dark shades, standing at almost every corner of the building keeping watch.

They stood like statues, almost unmovable. You could mistake them for mannequins.

“This place is huge!” Dylan exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with admiration.

“ I wonder how much money went into this.”

Maybe if I wasn't so infuriated, I would've taken my time to admire the place but f**k Landon!

“That should be the main entrance, follow me!” He squealed excitedly, but before he could reach the door he was stopped by the men in suits. I saw that coming; Dylan is so short-sighted.

“Do you have an appointment?” One of them asked, his voice firm and demanding.

Dylan and I exchanged glances, we didn't think that through. No, not ‘we’. He didn't think it through.

“No, but if you tell him we're from Fact Central Media, he will see us,” Dylan explained in an attempt to bypass protocol but I knew that was an absolute waste of time.

The man turned to another and spoke blandly “They don't have an appointment.”

The other who I'm assuming to be his superior responded with “Kick them out”

“Whoa! Whoa! We're not here for trouble, we just want to speak with the president.” Dylan laughed nervously, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead.

“Without an appointment, you can't see him. You should leave now.” The first man who asked about the appointment said but it sounded more like a warning as his patience was clearly not to be messed with.

Dylan looked at me, his eyes pleading for me to intervene. I gave him an “I told you so” look and he signed in defeat.

But there was no way I was leaving without meeting Landon. I was already here, I must meet him before I leave!

Fucking coward! Making a lot of enemies then employing security guards to hide him from the wrath of those he has offended.

With my arms folded, I stepped forward, ready to create a scene to get his attention. If diplomacy couldn't work, then violence should.

I linked my fingers together and stretched them forward. c***k! Then I held my face to the side. c***k! And to the other side. c***k!

They watched in amusement as I warmed up, probably wondering just how much craziness I was going to display. Well, Landon has taken everything from me; I had nothing to lose; I'm going all out.

This attracted the attention of the construction workers who were starting to gather around one after the other. Exactly what I wanted; ‘commotion’

Finally, I removed my heels and handed them to Dylan, ready to jam some brains.

“W–what are you doing?” He stammered, eyes widened. Didn't he already know? He asked for help, and now he's getting it; why pretend like he's not aware?

“What you couldn't do.” With that, I struck a pose; one foot forward and both palms before me, balled into fists. This is why I love wearing free corporate pants and a shirt. You never know when you need to fight.

“Come at me!” I yelled, my chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm with blood rushing to my head triggering the other side of me. A side I didn't like to show because of how addictive it was, but Landon left me with no choice.

They exchanged glances among themselves, still not moving. The onlookers observed with silent whispers, beginning to recognize me as the interviewer from the press conference held earlier. But at this point, I had no shame. Not even an iota.

“I said come at me!” I repeated, yelling louder this time. My breath hitched, my chest rising and falling in anticipation.

“Miss Hawkins?” A masculine voice called.

Not changing my posture, I turned to see who it was.