Sweeney lost his footing as Victor punched him. He hadn’t expected him to be capable of hitting that hard. The hit to his nose left him bleeding, the warmth streaming down his face.
Victor’s words were worse, though. He imagined how Nellie would react to seeing him like this. His Nell, not Victor’s. She’d patch him up and probably cry at the sight of him, and maybe even confront her dear friend over it. But that would be manipulative, wouldn’t it? To let her see him in such a state and take her anger out on the man who was only looking out for her?
He tensed when a hand tightened around his throat. He’d been to lost in his thoughts to expect it, and his fight or flight instincts kicked in. He could still breathe, but Victor may as well have been choking the life out of him as he began to panic. He was a disappointment. He was weak.
The words were forced and he couldn’t get a good breath in. It wasn’t the first time he had been through this, but God, he had hoped it would never happen again. To let himself get this vulnerable again. He had let Nellie down, just as he had let Lucy and Johanna down years before, and this was once again his punishment. But Victor was better than those bastards, wasn’t he? He’d stop, even for a moment, if he asked, wouldn’t he?
