"Am I done?" Ronan spat. He seized Ivar by his shirt. Oh fuck, he could hurl him out of that fucking wheelchair and smash his head against the counter. God only knew what stopped him from it.

Around them, people reacted by spreading out and away from any impending carnage. Ronan probably only had a few minutes before they were thrown out.

"What the fuck did I tell you!" He swung again.

He knew Ivar would fight back. He counted on it. Fuck the consequences and fuck him.