Smack!
The crisp sound of a slap echoed by the bathroom door.
Henry Smith stiffened instantly, his brows twitching, jaw clenched tight like he was barely holding back an explosion. His usually calm eyes darkened, stormy with suppressed rage. He probably never thought—one day—I’d slap him over another guy.
"Henry!" Lena Carter called out from behind.
She had just changed and come out. Her eyes locked onto the red handprint on Henry’s face. She gasped, then walked over in a hurry with worry written all over her face, hand reaching toward his cheek.
Before she could touch him, Henry caught her wrist and said coolly, "I’m fine. Your dad’s looking for you. Go talk to him. I’ve got a few words for her."
"Sorry, not interested. I’ve got nothing to say to you." I didn’t even lo
