Hauling a first aid kit up the stairs, she squatted next to his leg, unwrapping the bandages.
His injury was far worse than she’d imagined.
A large patch of skin on his leg was stripped off, revealing a bloody wound.
This must hurt like hell!
But he didn't even flinch.
She applied ointment to his wound, then swiftly bandaged it up.
Hearing her heavy breathing, he broke the silence, ”Violette, the wound might look scary, but it doesn't actually hurt.”
He was trying to comfort her,
but she didn’t need his phony comfort.
She jabbed his wound with her finger, and c
aught off guard, he winced in pain.
“Say that again, does it hurt?” Her eyes welled up, glaring at him.
Leaning back on his hands, he stubbornly said, “It doesn’t.”
He bet she wouldn't dare jab him again.
He was in pain, but she was hurting more.
“Just lay down and rest! You need to stay in bed for at least a week, no more running around!” She said angrily and stormed off to the bathroom.
Leaning against the headboard, he picked up the cell phone from the nightstand.
He dialed a number and coldly asked, “What have you found?”
The guy who’d hit him with a car tonight had been shot, but it wasn't fatal.
Now, the guy was being interrogated.
“Boss, this guy won't spill the beans. We’re planning to use some special techniques. We promise he’ll confess by tomorrow morning,” His underling assured him on the phone.
“Just make sure he doesn’t croak before he spills the beans!” Elijah wanted to know who was threatening his life with such dirty tricks.
The car accident he had six months ago left him severely injured and resulted in him becoming a vegetative state.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
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