Samuel had always been the picture of calm composure. Yet, I had never seen him look dangerously intense.
As he wound up to throw another punch, I swiftly caught his arm. "Stop it. I'm okay."
He held my gaze for what seemed like an eternity before, with obvious reluctance, he pulled back. I breathed a sigh of relief and gently pulled him inside. I grabbed a wet wipe, carefully cleaning the blood from his fingers.
It was Mason’s blood. Just one punch had been enough to draw it, a clear sign of the force behind it. Samuel pressed his lips together, a rare expression of discomfort crossing his face.
"Do you have any alcohol?"
"What?"
"I touched something filthy. I need to clean it."
With a heavy sigh, I reached for the alcohol and thoroughly sanitized his hand.
"What brings you here?"
