"Don't leave, come play with me,"
The drunk man blocked our path.
A strong smell of alcohol hit me,
It made me want to vomit as I frowned.
"Sorry, my husband's about to arrive, so my son and I are going to head out."
"Don't get so cocky, you filthy slut!" The drunk man cursed.
Suddenly, a thermos bottle struck the drunken man's face with a loud thud.
I looked down in surprise, only to see that it was Percy Ashford who had thrown his water bottle from his backpack.
Seeing me looking at him, Percy looked up and said, "Mom, he called you names."
"You're so sweet, you're already protecting me."
At that moment, the drunk man staggered to his feet, clutching his left cheek and glaring fiercely at Percy in my arms:
"Damn, you little brat, I'm going to beat you to death today."
With that, he swung a huge punch at us.
As the fist came hurtling toward us, I instinctively held Percy tighter in my arms.
Just as I was about to dodge, I felt a gust of wind behind me.
Then, I was pulled back and behind someone.
A familiar scent of deep wood filled my nose.
My heart instantly calmed. Percival had arrived.
Although Percy didn't say anything, the way his body relaxed and his bright eyes showed how relieved he felt at the arrival of his dad.
I gently patted my son's little head in reassurance.
"What were you going to do?" Percival Ashford held the drunk man's fist, suppressing his anger.
"I—ahhh!" The drunk man was sent flying by one punch.
Percival Ashford charged forward, pinning the drunk man to the ground and mercilessly pounding him.
The man's cries of pain echoed down the street, drawing attention from passersby.
I saw some hesitate, unsure whether to intervene, before one person finally took out their phone to call the police.
"Percival, that's enough. Let him go for now," I was worried he might kill the man and repeat the same tragic outcome.
Percy tugged at my sleeve, his excitement clear, "Mom, dad's so awesome!"
A warning bell rang in my head, and I quickly said:
"Percy, sweetheart, don't be like your dad. We call the police when we're in trouble. Violence can't solve everything."
Percival Ashford was still landing punch after punch, his eyes red with rage.
The crowd was growing, and the drunk man's wails were becoming softer.
"Darling, I'm fine."
I tried to pull him back, but he didn't budge.
Sighing internally, I couldn't help but let out a small breath.
Then, with a hint of a sob in my voice, I said:
"Percival, let's handle this through the proper channels. Don't dirty your hands."
"Kierra, I…" Percival Ashford's fist, swollen with rage, hovered just above the thug's face.
The criminal, battered and bruised, was now lying on the ground, barely breathing.
The sound of sirens filled the air.
