Stanley focused on getting the knife out of his hand, but just as he was able to pry it free, Damien pushed it back down.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Stanley repeatedly apologised. "I don't know where to find him."
"The scums of this town cross each other at some point in their lives. I know you know who I am searching for, but you don't want to share it. You would be foolish to think he can do far worse to you than I can," Damien said, gripping the knife to keep it in place.
"Were you planning to drink away the life you owe to me? That's not very nice of you, Stanley," said Damien.
"Lord Hawthorne," Stanley wept, needing the knife to be removed. "My hand."
"For heaven's sake," Damien muttered, annoyed by the tears. "Enough," he said and pulled the knife out of Stanley's hand.
Stanley slowly lifted his wounded hand and brought it to his chest.
