“Watch closely, old man!” Jason stomped down on Michael’s fingers.
Not satisfied, he had Samantha and the others join in, grinding his hand until it was a bloody mess.
“This is what happens when you mess with my girlfriend!”
“No!” I tried to crawl forward, but the searing pain in my knee left me immobile.
Michael’s screams grew weaker, his face pale as paper.
Only when his hand was mangled beyond recognition did Jason finally step back, satisfied.
Then Jason Coleman pulled a thick wad of red banknotes from his wallet and tossed them in our faces with disdain.
“Here, take it. Medical bills. Spend it carefully—should be enough to keep you two beggars alive for the rest of your miserable lives.”
Samantha Lee giggled, leaning sweetly against his chest, her phone camera still pointed at us.
“Jason, you’re so generous—actually giving them money.”
I looked at Michael Hayes’s mangled hand and the pain on his face, and my killing intent could no longer be contained.
Just then, the old iron gate of the veterans’ retirement home creaked open.
Out came George Miller, leaning on his cane, and Helen Carter, carrying her watering can. Behind them followed several other elderly residents, all dressed plainly.