LUTHER
“Ah! Damn it. Not my face.” I chuckled, tired and in pain after the 20th? 30th? I don’t know, I lost count. I could feel the bones in my face starting to crack, but I gritted my teeth through the pain. I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me broken.
“You think you’re hurting me?” I gasped between blows, spitting more blood onto the floor. “This is nothing. I’ve taken worse beatings before breakfast.”
One of them grinned, his lips curling up in a nasty sneer.
“Oh, we know. But this ain’t about you, Luther. I know you’re tough but are they?”
I stilled. “What?”
They stepped back, letting me breathe for a second, but the tension in the room thickened. My head pounded, trying to process what the hell they meant, but the drugs kept fogging everything up. I sc
