(Asher)
The fury and rage that I felt while watching Vince Prescott lashing out at his son roared inside of me, unlike anything I had ever felt.
Time seemed to slow, my hand reached forward and pulled Carson back by his shirt, causing him to stumble while I swiftly took his place.
Vince Prescott was no small man..having been a wide receiver in the NFL, he has kept up that physique and seemed to have more muscle than most men his age.
So taking a punch from the man with my already bruised face might not have been the smartest idea but honestly..it f*****g fueled me. I lunged forward, his body already off balance from throwing his weight as I tackled him down, ramming him into a filing cabinet behind him.
I was pissed..no..beyond pissed..how could a man hit his own son? I never had
