Watching with dread as Constantine put you on the edge of his desk after Dion manhandled you. Con faces a cloud like thunder; his jaw locks hard.   "Let me see." Big hands open your shirt hastily, checking for any bruises on your upper body.   "Con, it's okay." Try to grasp his arms, but his menacing laughter suddenly echoes all around the room.   "You really have no idea, right? I will gladly put Dion six feet under right now, don't you understand?" Eyes dark with a promising tone