Chapter 803

"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

same time.

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 time they 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. I have a medical kit in my room. I can

take care of it myself." Luther hooked his lips and glanced at her

seductively, "But I 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, I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable, and my legs felt weak.

Perhaps I have just used up all my strength. Please help me a little,

Miss Knowles."

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 time to argue with him, even though she

knew he was just acting.

After 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 cabinet under 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 some

basic 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."