Sallie's POV
Webster stared at me with that blank expression, like I'd just slapped him across the face. The cold mockery in my voice must have hit harder than I'd intended.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" His voice cracked with frustration. "Why do you always talk to me like I'm some kind of enemy?"
I frowned, genuinely puzzled by his reaction. "You said it yourself, Webster. If I refused to own up and apologize, I'd have to bow down and make it right."
The confusion on his face was almost comical. "When did I ever—" His words died in his throat, and all the color drained from his cheeks. The memory must have hit him like a freight train.
Every time he'd caught me screwing up, he'd lose his mind and demand I admit fault and grovel for forgiveness. And I was too damn stubborn to give him what he wanted. When his anger reached its peak, he'd force me to my knees, demanding I bow and apologize like some kind of servant.
