The look of shock that spread across Steve’s face after he opened the door was a ripe and sincere one. He moved closer toward Clay upon registering the sorry sight of him. The pair of blue eyes regarding him were emanating a cool sense of logic he couldn’t really fathom, namely because he was DISTRACTED by all the blood. Jesus Christ, he looked bad! Real fucking bad and... ❛ Hey, what --- wait a sec, what do you mean by that? Handle what? ❜ Confusion contorted his features, his gaze still focused on moving over the mottled spread of ugly bruising on display. ❛ Yeah, YEAH, get in here. Kitchen’s that way. ❜