The atmosphere was thick with tension, the lingering scent of sweat, blood, and adrenaline still heavy in the air. The remaining thugs groaned in pain as they dragged themselves up from the floor, their bodies battered and bruised, their pride completely shattered. They exchanged uneasy glances, their faces dark with a mixture of fury and humiliation.
One of them, the last one standing with any sense of composure, spat on the ground before narrowing his bloodshot eyes at Liam. His fingers trembled as he pointed at him.
"This won't end here, kid," he snarled, his voice laced with venom. "You've just made yourself so very dangerous enemies."
Liam, standing with his hands in his pockets and an unimpressed expression on his face, rely raised an eyebrow. He didn't even bother responding, his golden eyes cool and unreadable. The thug clenched his fists in frustration, but with one last glare, he turned around and limped out the door, dragging his fallen companions along with him. Their footsteps echoed as they disappeared into the night.
Silence.
The only sounds left were the faint hum of the ceiling fan and the heavy breathing of Amanda, who was still standing beside Liam, her mind racing a hundred miles per hour.
Her fingers twitched slightly before, without warning, she reached out and grabbed Liam's wrist.
"Co with ," she said, her voice firr than usual.
Liam raised a brow at the sudden action but allowed himself to be dragged along. Amanda's grip was warm but tight, as if she was trying to ground herself in reality. Truthfully, she didn't want to dwell too much on what had just happened. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Liam—a high school student—had effortlessly taken down a group of dangerous n.
It wasn't normal.
And yet, she pushed those thoughts aside as she led him up the stairs toward her bedroom.
Liam, on the other hand, couldn't help but glance at her back. The oversized shirt she was wearing still clung loosely to her fra.
He quickly looked away.
He wasn't blind—he knew Amanda was an attractive woman, but right now, his focus was elsewhere.
They reached her bedroom, and Amanda pushed the door open.
It was a cozy space, much different from the cold, professional deanor she usually displayed at school. The room was lit by a warm bedside lamp, casting soft shadows along the cream-colored walls. A neat wooden desk sat in the corner, stacked with books and graded assignnts. A few personal photos hung on the wall, and the faint scent of lavender filled the air.
"Sit on the bed," she instructed, already making her way toward a drawer.
Liam obeyed without a word, lowering himself onto the mattress. It was softer than he expected.
Amanda rummaged through the drawer before finally pulling out a small first-aid kit. She popped it open and pulled out so cotton pads, antiseptic wipes, and a cold compress.
Sitting beside him, she took a deep breath before reaching out.
Her fingers were soft, delicate even, as they gently tilted his chin upward.
"Hold still," she muttered as she pressed the cotton pad against his nose, wiping away the dried blood.
Liam said nothing, his eyes fixed on Amanda's concentrated expression.
Up close, she looked different from the teacher he knew. Her usual intimidating aura was gone, replaced by sothing... softer. Her long lashes cast faint shadows on her cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted as she focused on cleaning his wounds.
"You're staring," she suddenly said, breaking the silence.
Liam smirked. "So?"
Amanda scoffed but didn't push the conversation further. Instead, after a few more monts of silence, she asked the question that had been nagging at her since the fight.
"How did you learn to fight like that?"
Liam blinked before giving her a casual shrug. "Instinct."
That was the only answer he gave.
Amanda frowned. "Instinct? You expect to believe that?"
But Liam didn't elaborate. Instead, his attention drifted toward the nightstand where his phone screen lit up.
The mont his eyes landed on the ti displayed, his expression changed.
It was already past 10 PM.
Shit.
He had completely forgotten about Ann.
Without another word, Liam stood up.
Amanda blinked at him in confusion. "Where are you going?"
"Thanks for the dinner Miss Amanda," Liam said, dusting off his clothes. "And sorry for the trouble."
Amanda frowned at his sudden departure, but before she could question him further, Liam was already heading toward the door.
She followed behind, watching as he grabbed his phone and exited the house. Standing in the doorway, she watched his figure disappear into the night, her expression unreadable.
Then, her gaze drifted to the blood-stained floor.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips.
"This is going to cause future problems for you, Liam," she murmured to herself. "You shouldn't have interfered."
She knew the kind of people those thugs worked for. They wouldn't just let this go.
———
Outside, Liam walked down the quiet street before stopping at a nearby road. He raised his hand and hailed a taxi.
The cab pulled over, and Liam hopped inside.
Without much thought, he called out an address—the one Ann had given him earlier.
The driver adjusted his seat and started the car. "Alright, kid. Buckle up."
Liam blinked.
The voice sounded strangely familiar.
His gaze shifted toward the driver's seat, and the mont he saw the man's face, his expression froze.
He recognized him instantly.
It was none other than Dickson's father.
****
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