“Didn’t I tell you? The poor always travel in packs.”
“That old man came out of that broken-down place—looks like a lonely geezer with nobody to care for him.”
Since Michael hadn’t suffered life-threatening injuries, I hadn’t wanted to argue with these young people. But their words were far too insulting.
“Young people, watch your tongues. There must be some misunderstanding. My grandson would never spy on you.”
“Misunderstanding?” the girl sneered.
“He pointed his phone under my skirt, and you call that a misunderstanding? Old man, stop pretending. Make your grandson kneel down and apologize right now!”
I kept my temper under control, though my voice turned cold.
“Words have consequences. You had no evidence, yet you beat my grandson and now demand he kneel? Where’s your sense of justice?”
Jason Coleman snorted and stepped forward, jabbing his finger into my chest.
“Justice? With you? Do you think you deserve it, old man?”
“This isn’t over today. Your grandson will kneel and kowtow to me and Samantha Lee, and then pay us a hundred thousand dollars for emotional distress. Otherwise, I’ll see both of you carried into that ‘graveyard for the living’ you call a home.”