He asked lightly, his large hand reaching into the warm water, brushing over the marks on her chest.
He carefully examined them; if another man had left marks on her, he swore to destroy him.
"Did someone send you flowers? Throw them away. If you dare accept them again, I'll cut your hand off."
He took Avery Jane's hand, her fingers were long and slender, evenly proportioned, with nails like pale white, and the skin on the back of her hand looked both thin and delicate. Under the sunlight, the whole hand seemed almost transparent.
"Such hands are like soft seedlings, skin like curdled cream."
Imagining such a hand reaching out to accept flowers from someone else, it made him want to kill.
Avery Jane shivered again in fear, her small hand visibly trembling in his large one.
Joshua Hughes gently stroked her hair, "Be good, I won't do anything to you. I'll just make sure those with ill intentions toward you die miserably, like that little designer; his motives are not pure..."
