Chapter 155 No Longer Friends
"On purpose?" Jonas's words made Jacqueline's face turn pale. "Murder?"
"Don't panic, don't worry." I knew Jacqueline had always been well protected by her family, and she was young, so I tried to calm her down first. As for myself, I'd been through so many assassination attempts and pursuits that I was used to it.
"Bella!" Lucas rushed toward me, his bangs blown messy by the wind, his face frighteningly dark, his eyes full of fear and fury.
"That was fast," Jonas muttered quietly with displeasure.
Lucas first looked me up and down. Seeing that I only had some grass on me with no obvious injuries, his tense jawline relaxed slightly.
Then his gaze swept across the lawn and landed on the frisbee that had been hit on the edge not far away.
He walked over to pick it up, gripping the frisbee so hard his knuckles turned white, then grabbed my wrist and headed toward where the crowd was gathering, the fury in his eyes almost overflowing. "Come with me!"
Lucas looked ready to settle scores with someone. I didn't pull away from him. The anger in my heart faded, replaced by helplessness.
We reached the shooting range where several young men were chatting and laughing with guns in their hands. They were about to greet Lucas, but seeing his expression, they all shut their mouths and stepped back.
"Who shot this?" Lucas held up the frisbee and asked.
They looked at each other, and someone hesitantly pointed in a direction.
Lucas gave them a cold glance, pulled me along, and Jonas and Jacqueline followed closely behind us.
Following the direction the person pointed, we found Richard, Lionel, and Sophie.
"It was you guys?" Lucas's voice was ice-cold, his gaze chilling.
Richard put away his hunting rifle, his tone casual. "Lucas, don't be so uptight. We were just playing around. How were we supposed to know the frisbee would drift over there? It wasn't on purpose."
Lionel chimed in, still wearing a grinning expression, completely unaware of how serious this was. "Yeah, it was just an accident. Isabella's fine, isn't she?"
Lucas let out two cold laughs. He was so angry that he actually calmed down, but the aura around him became even more menacing. Even Jonas and Jacqueline didn't dare come near us.
Lucas weighed the frisbee in his hand, then slammed it hard on the ground.
The frisbee hit the hard floor with a crisp sound and shattered into pieces.
The noisy shooting range instantly fell silent.
"We're not friends anymore," Lucas said expressionlessly. "I'll settle this score."
Richard and Lionel looked incredulous.
"Lucas! Are you crazy? You're cutting ties with us?"
"We've known each other since we were kids, suffered together, made money together, and now you're cutting ties with us over Isabella?"
"Lucas, you're heartless!"
Richard glared at me angrily. Lucas stepped sideways in front of me. "Richard, didn't I say this morning that if you still consider me a friend, you need to respect her the way you respect me! But what did you do?"
Richard kept his neck stiff and didn't answer.
A flash of disappointment appeared in Lucas's eyes. "If Bella had gotten hurt, I wouldn't let you off!"
Richard's face turned red with anger. "Enough! You—"
"Stop fighting!" Sophie quickly stepped forward, standing between Richard and Lucas.
She looked at Lucas with his dark expression, then at me, and urged anxiously, "Lucas, don't be angry. They didn't do it on purpose. It was just an accident! We didn't expect the frisbee to fly where Isabella was. She's not hurt either, so let's just drop it!"
Lucas didn't agree. Sophie looked at me urgently. "Isabella, this was an accident. We can apologize to you. Don't make a big deal out of it! We've been good friends with Lucas for years. Do you have to push things until Lucas cuts ties with us?"
"Who's making a big deal out of it?" I laughed in anger. This Sophie—I thought she was a good person at first glance, but she's so good at stirring up trouble!
Lucas looked down at Sophie slightly, frowning. "Bella hasn't said a word. Don't make it seem like Bella's been manipulating things behind the scenes."
Sophie was startled. I figured she felt guilty because she was the one manipulating things behind the scenes, and she thought Lucas had figured it out.
"Fine, if we're cutting ties, then we're cutting ties!" Richard suddenly shouted.
He strode away, deliberately bumping Lucas's shoulder hard as he passed. Lionel followed him, snorting at me with contempt.
Lucas's anger couldn't be suppressed anymore, but he didn't go after Richard who had targeted him. Instead, he pressed his fist against Lionel's shoulder and pushed hard.
Caught off guard, Lionel staggered back and fell on his butt. He shouted Lucas's name angrily, but after getting up, he unluckily stepped on a piece of the broken frisbee and fell again.
Lionel screamed loudly, clutching his right wrist, his face pale, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. "My hand, I think my hand is broken!"
Richard panicked. "Lionel, your hand is broken?"
Lionel held up his right hand, the palm hanging unnaturally. He cried with tears all over his face. "I can't feel it. My hand is broken!"
I saw the anger in Lucas's eyes replaced by regret. I sighed quietly and said to Lucas, "It's not broken. It's probably dislocated."
"You can fix it?" Lucas knew about dislocations—you just had to quickly put the bone back in place.
I nodded. Lucas immediately pulled me over to Lionel and reached for Lionel's arm.
Richard tried to stop him. "Lucas, this is all your fault!"
"He fell on his own. Why blame me? If anyone's to blame, you brought it on yourselves!" Lucas pulled him away. "Don't get in the way. Let Bella check Lionel."
"Who are you calling in the way?" Richard raised his fist to punch Lucas. Sophie anxiously tried to break them up.
Lionel sat on the ground, crying out in pain while watching Richard and Lucas distractedly. "Stop fighting."
I took the opportunity to carefully examine Lionel's wrist. His right wrist was already visibly swollen, the position twisted.
I felt his wrist bone. Lionel looked up at me, his eyes full of pain and confusion.
"It's dislocated. Don't move." I warned him. Before Lionel could react, I braced my leg against Lionel's upper right arm to hold it steady, then gripped Lionel's wrist. My fingertips felt for the dislocated position, applied a little force, found the right angle, and quickly twisted and pushed.
There was a soft click.
Lionel screamed in fear.
"Let go of Lionel!" Richard shouted angrily, glaring at me. "What did you do to Lionel?"
Sophie also shouted anxiously, "Lionel is already hurt. How could you touch his hand? Isabella, you've gone too far! Even if you're angry and want revenge—"
"My hand is fine!" Lionel called out joyfully. Richard and Sophie both looked at him.
Lionel stared dumbly at his own hand, slowly moving his wrist. His face still had undried tear tracks, the pain gradually fading, replaced by delight and disbelief. "Look, my hand is fine!"