"No need. I'm fine." Luther shook his head. He clearly felt something sticky in his palm. The back of his head should be bleeding,
but it should not be very serious.
Just now he should be more careful, but in the end, there were so many of them and he could not possibly deal with all of them at
the stime.
Joyce drove the car back to the hotel as fast as she could, and after she parked the car, she opened the door for him.
Luther got out of the car, his hand still covering the back of his head.
By the tthey entered the elevator, the light was finally bright enough for Joyce to see bright red blood seeping out between his
long, slender fingers.
She let out a low cry, "You're bleeding! You should have just gone straight to the hospital to be bandaged."
"Never mind. Just a minor injury. | have a medical kit in my room. | can take care of it myself." Luther hooked his lips and glanced at
her seductively, "But | would need your help, Miss Knowles."
Joyce bit her lip, and what he said was only reasonable.
When the elevator reached the top floor, the door opened.
Luther suddenly felt weak over his feet, and he leaned against her entirely. There was a trace of hopelessness on his handsome
face, "Sorry, | suddenly felt a little uncomfortable, and my legs felt weak. Perhaps | have just used up all my strength. Please help
Joyce took a deep breath and held back her emotions.
She cast a sideways glance at him, who had leaned over entirely on her, and she had no choice but to reach out and wrap her
arms around him and help him out of the elevator.
Forget it, this was just not the tto argue with him, even though she knew he was just acting.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAfter all, he was injured because of her, and those punks were coming at her just now. Moreover, he got hit in the back of the head
by the bald punk only to push her away, or that would be her head that was bleeding.
The blow he received just now should not be heavy either. He certainly knew how to prevent his vital parts from getting hit.
She knew that he had a black belt in karate.
With great difficulty, she helped him to the presidential suite and sat him on the sofa.
"Where's the medical kit? I'll go get it." She asked.
"The cabunder the TV. The first one on the left." He leaned against the back of the couch and rested for a moment.
Joyce fetched the medical kit, opened it, and sure enough there was alcohol, iodine, gauze, and anti-inflammatory powder, and
even sbasic injections.
She walked over to him and moved his palm away.
When she saw how his hand had been stained with his bright red blood, her pupils contracted gently.
The wound was a little more severe than she expected.
The good thing was that it wasn’t too deep either.
She first cleaned his wound meticulously with iodophor. Then she sprinkled it evenly with anti-inflammatory powder. Next, she
wrapped the wound with gauze and slightly fixed the gauze with adhesive tape.
After handling it, she looked at the blood on his hands and said, "Go wash your hands yourself."
"I'm a little tired and don't want to move." He said roguishly.
Joyce was speechless. She then turned to the bathroom, got a towel soaked and brought it over and handed it to him, "Wipe them
yourself."
Luther looked at her lazily, reached for the towel and wiped his fingers clean one by one.
Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a subtle wound on her arm. There was a bloodstain, and it should not be deep but it should be
not shallow either.
His eyes narrowed slightly, and a trace of heartache crossed his eyes. He reached out and pulled her violently.
She was caught off guard and was yanked down by him, falling into his arms.
She just wanted to resist, but then she heard him say in a soft voice.
"Don't move. You're hurt too."
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