If Claire hadn’t been injured, Aiden Howkins likely wouldn’t have let that animal off so easily. But this wasn’t the ti to give chase. He hurried back to help Claire Sinclair to her feet.
"Are you okay?"
"SOB..." Claire Sinclair bit down hard, not wanting anyone to see her weakness. But the pain was unbearable, and a whimper escaped her lips.
Aiden Howkins watched her every pained expression, and the fury simring in his heart blazed even hotter.
The kick from before had been too fast, splattering blood from his nose across his face. His eyes burned with a raging fire, twisting his features into a ferocious mask.
He helped Claire Sinclair over to the base of the wall, letting her lean against it. "A vicious dog has bitten the master," he said in a low voice. "Let this wolf go and take care of him. If Young Master Quincy investigates, rember that this has nothing to do with you or him."
With those aningful words, Aiden Howkins shot to his feet and strode purposefully through the doorway.
"Peter Sinclair, you bastard! Get the hell out here!"
Peter Sinclair was just managing to get back on his feet. He didn’t recognize the blood-covered face at first. Grabbing a stool leg, he advanced. "Who the hell are you—"
He didn’t get to finish his sentence before a kick from Aiden Howkins sent him flying into the wall.
The scene left Mrs. Lowell and her daughter stunned once again.
Aiden Howkins strode over to Peter Sinclair, raised his foot, and brought it down hard on his head. "I can’t stand n who hit won," he said, his face a cold mask. "Especially when it’s their own daughter. This is for her. If you so much as touch a hair on her head again, I’ll personally chop you to pieces for Young Master Quincy."
With that, he lifted his foot, turned, and walked out.
Peter Sinclair lay sprawled on the ground like a boneless heap, groaning in agony, completely unable to pick himself up.
Once outside, Aiden Howkins imdiately tilted his head back and wiped at the blood gushing from his nose.
The worst of the pain had subsided for Claire Sinclair. Seeing him like that, she couldn’t help but let out a pained, mocking laugh. "You should probably stop that bleeding. Any more and you’ll run out."
Pinching his nose, Aiden Howkins said, "It’s fine. I can handle it."
Claire Sinclair stood up, one hand pressed to her lower back. "How’s my dad?"
"He’s not dead. He nearly killed you, why do you even care what happens to him?"
"I was worried you’d gone too far and gotten yourself into trouble."
"Worst case, I’ll take the punishnt. It’s no big deal." Aiden Howkins moved to her side, wanting to support her, but his hands were covered in blood. Even though he’d already stained her clothes once, he couldn’t bring himself to do it again. With a sigh, he gave up. "Can you walk by yourself?"
Claire Sinclair nodded. With one hand on her lower back and the other braced against the wall, she shuffled painfully through the doorway.
The mont she stepped inside, she saw her father collapsed on the floor, unable to get up, and Mrs. Lowell and her daughter, huddled together and trembling.
Claire Sinclair shot a cold glare at the mother and daughter who had stood by and done nothing. Without a word, she hunched over and made her way into that ice-cold room.
Her back ached too much for her to bother turning to close the door. Leaving it wide open, she walked to her mother’s morial tablet and slowly knelt.
"Mom, I have a new ho. I’ve co to take you ho now. We don’t have to stay in this freezing place anymore. We don’t have to put up with their abuse. From now on, no one will ever bully us again..."
She kept talking, on and on, completely unaware that an imposing figure had arrived outside.
A sudden, oppressive aura washed over them. Aiden Howkins whipped around, bowing instinctively. "Young Master Quincy!"
Adrian Quincy’s deep, dark eyes swept coldly over Aiden’s blood-streaked face, then shifted to the collapsed form of Peter Sinclair. His brow furrowed. "What happened here?"
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