Novel & Cerita Knuckles Crying

My cheeks already tear-stained. Then, He took another device in his hand and said putting it between my two-finger," this is called finger cutter. They are used for cutting fingers of those who touch something which shouldn't be touched". Hearing him my voice become stuck inside my throat and now I am only shedding my tears. Is he going to use them on me? This question is making my blood freeze. He removed that device from my fingers and kissed my both knuckles. His weird behaviour is increasing my fear on another level.

Nick's hand trembled involuntarily at Lucian's words. The nerve pain, quiet for long, suddenly blazed again, surging through his arm and into his skull. The pain was unbearable. Gritting his teeth, Nick threw another punch. His eyes were red.

“Because of me. Again.” I had? Surprised, I looked at my hand holding the cup and discovered splits across my knuckles. Damn. I’d barely noticed. They weren’t bad. They’d be completely healed within a day or two. But now she’d seen them, and she’d probably notice when they weren’t there anymore. Shit. I was usually better with covering details like that. Nervously, I flapped my free hand. “It looks worse than it is. I’ll get better, you watch—”

I see his bleeding knuckles in front of my eyes. “Caden, you are bleeding!” I hold his hands quickly on mine and see the wounds in his knuckle. “That’s nothing. You don’t have to worry about that. It’s not even a new thing. Tell me what you are supposed to tell me, will you please?” he asks.

“How many times did you practice cracking your knuckles to get it to happen just like that?” Jack nods only once, and like magic, pain explodes across the left side of my face. The force of the slap makes my head snap to the side, and I cover my cheek with my hand—it's hot, burning, followed by the acidic taste of blood in my mouth. I shouldn't do it. Shouldn't say anything else, but I never did know how to keep my mouth shut. “Pathetic. You can't even do it yourself,” I mutter, glaring at Jack while his image blurs, thanks to the tears in my eyes. “What kind of man makes his goons do all the work?”

Tears spill down my cheeks without warning, sudden and unstoppable, and I’m crying before I even realize what’s happening. Knox goes rigid against me.

Paid without asking me, tucked them under his arm, and walked back to the bike like it was nothing. "You didn't have to do that," I said. "I know," he said, securing them to the bike. I watched his hands while he worked. The knuckles on his right hand were split and bruised, the skin broken in two places, dark underneath. I had noticed it last night but we had been otherwise occupied and I hadn't asked. "Dylan," I said. "Mm." "Your knuckles." He glanced down at his hand. "What about them?"

Adriano ⫘☠︎︎⫘ Sweat dripped into my eye, but I didn’t blink. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the room. Just bare knuckles wrapped in old tape, no gloves, no mouth guards, just pain and a fucked-up kind of therapy. Vincenzo’s knuckles cracked against my jaw again, and I tasted copper, fuck, he always hit like a truck. I spat blood to the side and stepped back into him, shoulder-first, slamming into his chest to knock him off balance.

And then he’d crossed his skinny-ass arms across his fuckin’ Metallica tee like he was ready to throw down or something. Punk ass poser. His knuckles hurt. He opened his eyes and held his hand in front of his face. Yeah, he’d punched something. Fingers scraped. Knuckles swollen. Black and blue and sorta yellow and, fuck me, red? Broken? He flexed his fingers. Nah, this was a wood punch, not concrete. Not flesh or bone. Wood. “It’s shit,” he’d screamed at Spike, his fists clenched. Fuck counting back from ten. “It’s fucking shit, man. I just want it fixed. It’ll take two fuckin’ seconds!”

"The other one." I let out a deep sigh and showed her my other hand. This female would be the death of me. Her little hands cupped my hand as she ran her fingers over my knuckles. Fucking sparks. It was making my knees weak. My knuckles were healing, but they were still swollen and showed signs of having hit something hard. She tilted her head to look at me. Her gaze was so soft that it looked like she was going to cry anytime soon. "Maybe we need to put in ice or something."