Releasing his wrist, I didn't give him time to recover. I drove a backhand punch straight into the bridge of his nose.
Crack.
"Argh!"
Ethan clutched his face, squealing like a dying pig. Bright red blood seeped through his fingers, splattering onto the floor.
"Blood!" someone in the crowd shrieked.
"Liam! Are you insane? You can't just assault people!"
Claire rushed forward, shoving me hard enough to make me stumble. She didn't spare me a second glance—she went straight to Ethan, her eyes wide with tender concern.
My stomach turned.
I let out a dark chuckle. "Does it hurt your heart to see him bleed?"
I gestured to the cowering man. "Funny. You didn't panic like that when he tried to swing at me."
Claire's breath hitched. Her gaze darted away, unable to meet mine. For once, she had no rebuttal.
"Besides," I continued, my voice dropping, "he deserved it."
Claire looked at me in disbelief. "Liam, when did you become so unreasonable? This is between us. Why drag an innocent bystander into our mess?"
I scoffed. "Innocent?"
I pointed at Ethan. "Ask him. Is he innocent?"
Ethan's expression flickered with panic, but he quickly dropped his head, adopting the posture of a martyr.