Sumy’s POV
I ran straight to where Ethan was sitting, his head bowed, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. Blood streaked his lips, his jaw bruised from the fight. My legs trembled as I bent down, pulling out the handkerchief I always tuck into my shirt. My fingers shook but I pressed the cloth to his wounds anyway, dabbing at the blood with slow, deliberate strokes.
I was doing it on purpose — I knew I was. Every touch, every whisper of the cloth against his skin was meant to spark jealousy in the Triplets.
“Hey, honey, are you hurt?” I said, my voice soft but dripping, something I rarely let them hear — a tone meant to pierce their control. It was the first time I hadn't called Ethan anything but his name. I wanted it to sting.
And it did.
Rhett, Ryder, and Ronan all
