Chapter 7: Next Time You Run Your Mouth, Remember How This Feels
Normally, William and the others should've gone down to the precinct to give statements —
but this was the South Side.
And Tony, being Fiona's loyal little lapdog, wasn't about to drag his crush into paperwork.
When he found out William was the "hero" who'd helped catch Fiona's thief,
his attitude toward him turned downright friendly.
As for Jimmy?
Tony barely even registered the guy's existence.
---
Once Tony finally drove off with the thief in custody,
Jimmy knew he was running out of time.
If he didn't act fast, the girl he'd been eyeing all night was about to slip right through his fingers.
So he plastered on his best smile and jumped in.
"Hey, I'm Jimmy. I was actually gonna buy you a drink earlier, but… well, things got kind of wild."
Fiona turned, giving him a quick once-over.
Handsome. Confident. Clean-cut.
And just like that, her interest flickered.
She hadn't exactly finished enjoying her night, after all.
"Sure," she said with a little grin. "Let's grab that drink. Might as well celebrate our hero here!"
Without hesitation, she slipped an arm around William's shoulder.
Jimmy's smile froze for a second — pure envy flashing across his face.
---
To be honest, William wasn't particularly thrilled about the attention.
Fiona Gallagher's reputation preceded her.
At least until he got his [Regeneration Factor], he wasn't taking any chances with South Side women.
You could never be too careful — storyline or not.
Sure, the "canon" Fiona didn't have anything serious…
but a bad case of something contagious would still ruin his day.
Still, Fiona had no idea she was being silently judged.
With a bright smile, she pulled him toward the nightclub entrance.
---
"Hey, you two really think you can just walk back in?"
The club's bouncer — a massive Black man built like a tank — stepped forward to block their way.
Fiona blinked, confused. Veronica, however, was instantly ready for war.
"You're serious right now?" she demanded.
"Where's your stamp?" the bouncer asked coldly, giving them all a dismissive once-over.
Fiona and Veronica were regulars.
Everyone in the club knew these two broke girls who partied on charm and credit.
And without the fluorescent stamp on their wrists —
they weren't getting back in.
"Are you kidding me? If you were doing your job, we wouldn't have had to leave in the first place!" Veronica snapped.
The bouncer crossed his arms, unimpressed.
"No stamp, no entry. Rules are rules."
His tone was smug — the kind that screamed power trip.
Veronica stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Is this guy for real right now?"
Then she turned to Fiona and, without hesitation, glared back at the bouncer.
"You know what, screw you, you fat pig."
---
It was a line that, even in 2010, was pushing the limits of political correctness.
Calling a 400-pound Black man a "fat pig" was… well, nuclear.
Jimmy tried to hide his laughter behind his hand,
but the sound still slipped out — because, honestly, it was funny.
The bouncer's face darkened. He wasn't the kind to take insults quietly.
And now, Veronica had just given him the perfect excuse
to do something he'd been waiting to do for a while.
"Alright," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"You two are officially blacklisted."
He looked down his nose at Fiona and Veronica, smug as a king.
---
"What!?" Fiona snapped. "On what grounds!?"
"Drugs," the bouncer said lazily, pulling an excuse out of thin air.
Veronica's jaw dropped.
"What!?" she shouted, her tone pure theater.
Fiona glared back at him.
"Yeah, right. Maybe you let that thief run because you were in on it!
My friend stopped him — what, were you planning to split the loot later?"
That accusation hit home.
The bouncer's grin vanished, replaced by raw anger.
"Watch your mouth, bitch!"
"Watch yours," Jimmy jumped in, desperate for a heroic moment.
"Or what?" the bouncer growled, stepping right up to him.
Jimmy froze. The guy was a mountain, easily twice his size.
Fiona quickly slid between them.
"Okay, okay! Enough! Drop it, alright? Just forget it!"
Her words seemed to give Jimmy an out.
His jaw clenched, but he didn't say another word.
He stood there, shoulders tight, staring at the ground like his mouth had been sewn shut.
The bouncer smirked, stepping back slowly, eyes gleaming with triumph.
---
For William, this whole scene had nothing to do with him.
Ordinarily, he wouldn't care —
but if Jimmy ended up swinging at the bouncer,
that little act of bravery might just make Fiona fall for him right on schedule.
And that, for William, was unacceptable.
"If he wins her attention, my Regeneration Factor mission's screwed,"
he thought grimly.
"No way I'm letting that happen."
Decision made, William stepped forward.
The bouncer noticed and spread his arms wide, smirking.
"What? You want some too?"
William didn't answer.
He just moved.
Bang!
His fist connected squarely with the bouncer's jaw.
Even though William was leaner, his [Freestyle Combat Mastery] made up the difference.
The hit was clean, sharp — perfectly placed.
The bouncer stumbled back two full steps, eyes wide.
The crowd went silent.
Even Jimmy stood frozen.
"Holy shit… this guy's actually sticking up for us?" he thought.
Fiona and Veronica had just turned to leave when the commotion drew their attention back.
They spun around just in time to see the furious bouncer swing his massive arm,
his fist the size of a dinner plate, aimed straight for William's face.
"Shit! Watch out!" Fiona cried.
But the punch never landed.
William slipped to the side like he was made of air,
then drove a brutal uppercut straight into the man's gut —
right at the solar plexus.
The bouncer let out a strangled gasp,
doubling over, wheezing like his lungs had collapsed.
William leaned close enough for only him to hear.
"Next time you feel like running your mouth,"
he said calmly,
"remember how this feels."
Then he let the man crumple, half-kneeling, struggling for air.
William turned his back on him and walked toward Fiona and the others
as if nothing had happened.
---
"Damn, Fiona," Veronica muttered, eyes glazed.
"I think I just… holy crap, I think I—"
Her words caught in her throat. She tugged at her collar,
face flushed and eyes full of something not entirely pure.
Fiona rolled her eyes, but her own cheeks were red too —
even in the dim club lights, the color burned through.
---
Jimmy, for his part, should've bowed out right there.
The other man had clearly stolen the spotlight — and Fiona's attention.
Anyone with self-respect would've walked away.
But Jimmy Lishman wasn't "anyone."
He was a lust-driven opportunist,
and Fiona Gallagher had just become his next obsession.
William caught sight of him trailing behind with the corner of his eye.
His brow furrowed slightly.
"Of course. The bastard's still not giving up."
No wonder the system hadn't triggered yet —
Fiona's "fate line" with Jimmy was still intact.
William slowed his pace deliberately,
waiting until Jimmy caught up beside him.
Then, with a casual smile,
he slung an arm around Jimmy's shoulder.
"Jimmy…" he said softly.