He stood out like a sore thumb- a tall, commanding presence that defied his surroundings. Daring
enough to walk into a gang’s lair alone, his courage was anything but ordinary.
“Hey, buddy, think you took a wrong turn?” Jack sneered, flipping a switchblade menacingly in Balfour’s
direction.
The gang members braced themselves for a scuffle, confident they could handle the intruder.
But Balfour’s lips curled into a chill smirk. “Beat it.”
“What did you just say? You want us to beat it?” Blondie snapped back, his anger flaring. But before
they knew it, several armed officers had surrounded them.
“Freeze! Don’t move, drop your weapons, and put your hands on your head!”
These thugs were used to posturing, not actual confrontation with the law.
Blondie instinctively obeyed, while Jack tried to bolt, only to be swiftly tackled and cuffed by the
officers.
Pinned to the ground, he could only scream in frustration.
Once the chaos settled and all the thugs were subdued, Balfour carefully untied Ivy’s wrists and ankles.
She clung to him, still shaken. “You really came… Do you know how scared I was that you wouldn’t?”
Tears soaked Balfour’s neck as Ivy wept.
He frowned, full of regret. “Sorry, I was late.”
While Ivy’s tears flowed, Balfour resisted checking her for injuries, focusing instead on the three men
who had cornered her. Dark thoughts swirled in his head, but feeling her trembling, he pushed them
aside.
He shrugged off his jacket and wrapped Ivy in it, lifting her into his arms. “It’s okay, it’s over now. Let’s
go home.”
Curled up in his familiar scent, Ivy finally felt safe.
“Take these guys to my place first. I’ll have someone take them to the station later,” Balfour instructed
the officers, who exchanged knowing looks and nodded after a resigned voice over the radio
consented. “Let him have his way.”
“Mr. Howard, there seems to be another victim. What should we do with her?”
At last, someone noticed Clara on the ground, looking ecstatically at Balfour, hoping for rescue.
But his concern was solely for lvy, not sparing Clara a glance.
“Deal with her as you would any other. I don’t know her.”
Balfour’s gaze was so intense that the officers could not help but avert their eyes.
Only in the car, with just Balfour and Ivy, did she feel truly safe.
Seeing the bright red marks on Ivy’s cheeks, Balfour felt a surge of tenderness. He gently touched the
bruises, but even that light contact made her wince in pain.
“Try to bear it; I need to apply some ointment. If we wait until we get home, the swelling will worsen.”
His voice, low and soft, was filled with an unusual gentleness.
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