Driving away Thomas Lucas, Nathan Bolton still couldn't quell his anger.
He paced back and forth, and when his gaze accidentally landed on that streak of blood on the bedroom bed, he rushed over.
Small blades were mixed with the blood, nearly invisible unless you looked closely!
Nathan Bolton rushed to the bathroom, grabbing Lorraine Hughes's tightly clenched right hand.
"Open your hand." His deep, hoarse voice carried a touch of panic.
"It's nothing."
Lorraine Hughes tried to retract her hand, but the effects of the drug hadn't worn off, and she couldn't fight against the man in front of her.
"Please open it, alright?" He coaxed her, unwilling to forcefully pry open her fingers.
Unable to resist him, Lorraine Hughes slowly opened her palm.
Old scars, new wounds, already a bloody mess. She had clenched her hand so tightly that he hadn't noticed.
"If I hadn't come, would you have..."
