Chapter 483 Four Hundred and Eighty-Three: She's in Trouble
Lawrence, enduring the pain of the stab wound, made no sound, propping up his body to stand and shield her as he grappled with the three assailants.
But the stab had been fatal.
Within minutes, his strength faded, and he was knocked to the ground by the thugs who yanked out the knife only to stab him again!
Winnie scrambled up and seized a nearby torch, and charged, "Don't touch him! Or I'll burn this place down and we'll all die together!"
The three masked goons exchanged looks; this man’s intrusion into their plans rendered the night's endeavors a failure.
If they took this woman now, their covers would be blown for sure.
The best way was to flee, lest the cops catch them all!
Seeing Winnie's torch poised over the alcohol-drenched floor, they threw Lawrence aside and bolted.
Winnie, trembling, held the torch aloft and carefully stepped onto dry ground before daring to extinguish it with a forceful stomp.
After managing to catch her breath, she swiftly turned around.
Lawrence's tall figure lay on the ground, one leg curled, shivering in pain.
Winnie's emotions were chaotic; the sight of his blood spreading on the floor left her fraught with anxiety.
She helped him up without a word and ran towards the basement door.
"They locked it…" gasped Lawrence, hearing the sound of chains.
Winnie tried to shake the iron door lock; a heavy chain was slung across it, trapping them inside.
"How did you get in?"
"There were three doors. When I came in, they had only locked the first one. Now, they must've locked them all."
"What about the cops?"
"I gave them our location, but it's not easy to find your earring. It might take time."
Lawrence's breathing slowed, his lips pallid. Clenching his hand around hers, he urged her close again.
Winnie had avoided looking into his eyes all the while, her heart riding an emotional rollercoaster teetering on collapse. She couldn't fathom why he had come to rescue her...
Lawrence R checked his phone, hoping for a signal. Nothing. In the dim light, his expression was one of agony, yet his gaze meticulously swept over her entire body. Not until he was sure she was unscathed did he let out a sigh of relief.
That exhale of relief didn't escape Winnie's notice.
Suddenly, she crumbled. Her fiery gaze landed on his strikingly handsome face. "What are you doing here?!" she questioned.
She wanted to ask, "Why didn't you answer my calls? You left me to die, didn't you? Weren't you on a date with Ishara, taking her to Lymington to meet your parents instead of coming to rescue me?"
Her tears shook her.
Lawrence R gripped her wrists, his heart thundering. Seeing her fragile and on the brink of despair, his own eyes blazed with a crimson fury. "Don't be scared, Winnie. I'm here with you," he said, lips pressed tightly together.
It felt as if Winnie's heart had been carved out and was now laying in his palm. In her desperation, she loathed him. Yet when he showed up, her hatred turned into uncontrollable rage. "I don't need this from you! I don't need your fake concern! Aren’ t you supposed to be with someone else? Am I not the one you've abandoned?"
It was a pain she couldn't walk away from.
Lawrence R was no different. Millions of words bubbled inside him, but none would come out.
He looked down at her somberly. "I did have something very important tonight," he said, a bitter smile on his lips as he choked back his anguish. "But nothing... nobody is more important than you."
He had forsaken his mother in her time of need... For this woman, he had neglected his duties as a son.
His murmuring nearly convinced Winnie it was all a dream. She wanted to hear more, but he fell silent. His deep eyes also began to close.
That's when Winnie, as if startled back to her senses, quickly pressed down on his sturdy wrist. His pulse was weak!
He had lost so much blood in those few minutes.
"I'll... I'll stop the bleeding first," she stammered.
"Okay..." He slid to the ground, slumping against the wall, perhaps too weak to stand.
Winnie grabbed his phone and shone it on his muscular body. The blade – ten inches long – had torn through flesh, and blood seeped, on his well-defined chest.
Blood spurted out!
She hadn't seen clearly earlier, her nerves now trembling uncontrollably. "I don't have any tools to stop the bleeding! You'll bleed out and go into shock..."
"Stay calm, Winnie. Rip my shirt and tie it around the wound," he instructed.
“Right, right...”
She was panicking. She stood up, grabbed some liquor, took out his lighter, and set fire to the fabric strip. "I'm going to disinfect the wound. Brace yourself."
The flame scorched the wounds on his front and back.
He shook with pain, and Winnie, fearing he would bite his tongue, offered, "Bite down on my shoulder."
"Forget it," he thought, his heart aching at the thought of hurting her.
After the agonizing disinfection, he noticed a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth, a result of biting his own lip.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine..." A slight smile crossed his lips.
Winnie quickly took the scraps of a torn shirt and, pressing firmly, she wrapped the cloth around his torso, trying to stop the bleeding.
She must have exhausted all her strength because suddenly her entire body began to tremble, cold sweat breaking out as her breathing turned feverishly hot, as if about to ignite.
"Damn it, why haven't the cops shown up yet?" Her voice was strangely agitated, gripping Lawrence's scattered thoughts as he looked up at her.
Perhaps sensing something amiss, Winnie hugged herself, shaking, and moved away from him.
"Winnie... what's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
Winnie could barely stand; her heart felt as though it was being devoured by a swarm of ants, tearing her apart from the inside. Her nerves were on edge, her thoughts thunderous.
She refused to speak, her lips pressed tightly together to suppress any sound of despair.
Her cheeks flushed a smoky red, damp with sweat, painting her in a feverish hue.
Seeing her like this, Lawrence's pupils dilated with confusion. "What did that bastard do to you?"
"Mind your own business!"
She retreated further into the corner, her face against the cold, rough concrete, her head starting to shake.
This wasn't just some run-of-the-mill aphrodisiac; it had been laced with something else, triggering an overwhelming urge that seemed to peak. If she didn't do something soon, she might have an aneurysm.
She knew this but dared not show it, digging her fingers into the concrete until her nails were ragged.
"Winnie, come here. Let me see," he urged.
"Stop talking!"
Her eyes, red with rage, seemed to be ablaze as she covered her ears.
"Come here!" Lawrence's face hardened with urgency. "What's wrong? Are you about to—"
"No, you can't... and I won't!" she snapped, a definitive refusal despite the consensual invitation in his gaze.
Though she tried to cover herself, but it was needless.
"Where are the damn cops!" she began pounding on the wall.
This couldn't go on. If she couldn't counteract the drug, it might kill her. With a last reserve of strength, Lawrence pulled himself towards her with gritted teeth.
"Stay away!"
"Lawrence, did you hear me?!"
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