Vincent’s POV:

“You’re bleeding,”

“It’s not mine. I’m fine,”

Her voice is breathless and shaky. Without a second thought, I take her hand and hold it gently in mine. Her knuckles have some bruising, and the blood on them is drying out.

My jaw clenches.

There’s only one person that could have done this. And I say this because I know he’s here.

I take out a handkerchief and wipe her fists clean of blood. She’s trembling, her breaths rattle in her chest and end up coming out hard.

“What…what are you doing here?”

“Where is he?” Stashing the bloody cloth into my pocket, I meet her eyes. “Where’s that...