"Be gentle, Miss Wilson!" Mr. Atticus gritted out and I looked at him with a sigh, nodding my head. He was hurt, after all.
"What even happened to you, Mr. Atticus?" I asked him and he looked up at me, his unforgiving eyes staring right into my soul.
"That is none of your concern, Miss Wilson." He said roughly, clenching his jaw as I was disinfecting his cuts and bruises. He looked like he got attacked pretty badly.
"Considering how I am treating these wounds now, I beleive it is my concern, Mr. Atticus. So, how did you even got beaten up so badly? Aren't you guarded by your people all the time?" I asked him and he glared at me. He didn't like being asked about things. About everything.
"I am guarded by my people, Miss Wilson. And that's the reason, I'm alive today. I was in a bar,
