Chapter 246 Physical Methods
"Young man, you're going to fall and die!"
Zach gripped the metal window frame tightly. "I'm not going anywhere until I know she's safe."
At sixteen stories up, Zach was clinging to the glass like a kite with its string cut, desperately trying to reach Brooklyn's windowsill with his toes. The wind outside was fierce, creating a swirling current that felt like it might pull him into the void.
The howling wind whipped his clothes and hair into a frenzy, making a terrifying noise. Zach pressed his face against the glass, taking a deep breath. Below him was a deadly drop of over 300 feet. But right now, Brooklyn's safety was all that mattered.
The neighbor, terrified, stared in shock and began to sob, covering her mouth. "You young people and your love affairs, you're so reckless! Reckless!"
The wind was deafening, drowning out her cries. Zach's only focus was getting his leg over to the next balcony.
He thought, 'Hang on, idiot. Just wait for me.'
Zach tilted his body, first at a ninety-degree angle, then at eighty, finally hooking his long leg onto the adjacent balcony. Using gravity to his advantage, he slid his upper body across like a lone goose diving into the neighboring balcony.
He landed with a thud, his feet touching the solid floor once more. He crossed the threshold and collapsed onto the balcony's concrete slab.
The neighbor, now horrified, shouted, "Young man! Hang in there!"
Thinking of Sebastian, who had been at her place before, the neighbor wondered about this young man's situation. She thought, 'Youth is truly something.'
Zach, leaning against the wall, stood up. His knees had hit the floor upon landing, and blood had soaked through his pants.
He opened the sliding glass door and saw Brooklyn, the reason he'd risked everything to reach. She was curled up on the sofa like a helpless animal, wrapped entirely in the blanket.
Brooklyn wasn't dressed; she had only a towel wrapped around her.
Zach's initial relief quickly turned to embarrassment. He turned away, found a blanket in her bedroom, and gently covered her before approaching.
He leaned closer, trying to rouse her. "Dr. Mitchell?"
Brooklyn remained unresponsive.
Feeling a surge of concern, Zach touched her forehead. It was burning hot!
"Brooklyn, wake up! You can't stay asleep, wake up!"
Zach held her shoulders, feeling the intense heat of her skin. Her temperature must be at least 104 degrees Fahrenheit. This could turn serious if it continued.
He was about to pick her up to take her to the hospital but hesitated. Carrying her might lead to misunderstandings, especially given Brooklyn's high-profile status. If seen, it could only make things worse.
After weighing his options, he carefully laid her on the bed in her bedroom, tucking her damp hair away from the pillow. "Dr. Mitchell?"
He called her again, but Brooklyn remained silent.
Placing a damp cloth on her forehead, Zach began searching for the medicine cabinet.
Brooklyn was a doctor, so there had to be some emergency medication around.
But unfortunately, when Zach found the medicine cabinet, it was empty of any fever-reducing drugs.
With no other options, he decided to use physical methods to bring her temperature down.
Zach touched her blazing-hot forehead. Her face, flushed red from the fever, looked like it might burn up if the temperature didn't drop soon.
He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Dr. Mitchell. Your condition is so critical right now. Please don't hate me for this."
Despite knowing what he had to do, Zach's mind wrestled with the decision.
"Sorry, Brooklyn. I know you wouldn't want this, but I just want you to get better.
"Brooklyn, if you wake up and you're angry with me, I'll take full responsibility."
He carefully lifted the blanket, closing his eyes, and gently turned Brooklyn so that her back faced him.
Her back was smooth, flawless, unmarred by scars or blemishes. Zach cursed himself internally for noticing such details at this moment.
Turning away, he retrieved a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the medicine cabinet.
Pouring the alcohol into his hands, he rubbed them together to warm it up, then applied it to her back, massaging it in.
He worked the alcohol into her back, neck, arms, and palms. His hands lingered on her waist as he closed his eyes and massaged gently. Next, he needed to address her calves and the soles of her feet directly.
He applied the warm alcohol to her feet, making sure to be gentle as he touched her.
For half an hour, Zach repeatedly applied the alcohol, battling his own guilt. His back was soaked with sweat; physical exhaustion was one thing, but the emotional strain was even worse.
After more than thirty minutes, he repositioned Brooklyn, making sure she wasn't covered by the blanket, as her temperature was still too high. The room needed to be ventilated, and the fabric on her body shouldn't be too tight.
He opened the windows to let fresh air circulate, but the damp towel still clinging to her wasn't helping with the fever.
Zach clenched his jaw, his face flushed with sweat and anxiety.
He grabbed a clean blanket, standing anxiously by the window. "Brooklyn? Wake up."
Brooklyn, her face scrunched in discomfort, remained in a semi-conscious state, unresponsive to any sound.
"I'm sorry, Brooklyn."
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
