Craig staggered back a step, the blow ringing in his ears, blood blooming at the corner of his mouth.
His head turned slowly, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he brought his eyes back to Louis. It wasn't rage that filled his face. It was something colder.
Quieter.
He tilted his head, spit blood to the side, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"You hit harder than I thought," Craig muttered, voice low. "But not hard enough."
Louis braced himself, fists still clenched, waiting for the hit he knew was coming, only that it didn't come.
Because the last thing Craig was going to do was get into a fistfight in the middle of a police station.
Not here. Not like this.
He could already hear his father's voice, sharp and merciless: 'You brawled in a precinct? Are you trying to disgrace us? You think you're above it all just because you're clever? You're nothing if you can't control yourself.'
And the worst part? His father would be right.
