But there Caleb Baker sat, loosely in front of her. Rays of mottled light passed through the branches, their scattering lending him an ethereal glow. His eyes, gleaming, shone with the purest hues of the world. He watched her in silence, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, void of any context or emotion.
He did not seem angry.
Yvonne Finley, having taken care of him, met his gaze directly.
But just as she lifted her head.
The man bent over. His injured hand clasped her slender nape, forcefully preventing her from backing away. He bit onto her lips, with a certain ferocity, sapping, attacking, and pressuring her into faint whimpers of discontent.
Yvonne Finley felt her lips go numb with a slight sting. On this busy road, with cars passing by every so often and some pedestrians even slowing down to whistle and tease them, it was as if the entire world was watching their passionate love story unfold.
