The air conditioning in the car was set very low, the temperature entirely his choice, with a delicate, unique scent of cedar lingering around.
Yet his deep, dark gaze held no warmth as he stared at her without speaking.
After a while, he finally spoke in a low voice, "Said something that shouldn't be said, gave him a bit of a lesson."
Hearing this.
Claire Prescott couldn't help but let her mind wander.
Jay Smith's mouth had always been dirty, even after all these years, was he still spreading lies about her that Keane Lowell might have overheard?
"What did he say about me? Is your injury caused by him?" she asked.
The man answered with a low, deep "Um."
...only giving half a reply.
Claire Prescott resignedly said, "He's pretty weak, you hit him/he doesn't dare to hit back, so how did he manage to scratch you like this?"
"Your turn."
"..." She was still troubled about the scars on her back.
