Chapter 188 Hunter's Feigned Sickness
With the restaurant being empty, apart from their small party, Patricia walked down the hallway and sat at another dining table, covering her mouth and quietly asking, "Hunter, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"
The voice that answered wasn't Hunter, but a strange male voice. "Are you a friend of Mr. Miller?"
Patricia paused, "Who are you?"
"I'm from the room service at Ivara City Hotel! Mr. Miller has a high fever, and I wanted to take him to the hospital, but he stubbornly refused. He's now passed out, and I had no choice but to find your number in Mr. Miller's phone. You were the last person he contacted in his contact list."
"What? He's passed out with a fever?" Patricia exclaimed, standing up so abruptly that she caught the attention of Martin and the three little ones.
The customer service continued, "Yes, he's passed out! I just checked his temperature, and it's 39 degrees. I don't know what to do. Could you please come over?"
"This..." Patricia hesitated, looking towards Martin.
Though she did not speak, Martin was somehow able to decipher her intentions from her eyes, his own eyes suddenly fierce as he shook his head decisively. Seeing that she did not agree, the customer service spoke again.
“I really don’t know what to do! I have work and can’t take care of him here, and he refuses to go to the hospital. What if something happens? Why not call an ambulance for him? That way, he won’t blame me when he wakes up.”
“It’s Christmas Eve today, and the streets are packed with people.” She feared that the ambulance might not arrive in time.
“What should we do then? I saw a deep knife wound on his back, and he’s still bleeding!”
The customer service was anxious and unsure of what to do. When the knife wound was mentioned, Patricia immediately thought of how he got injured saving her today, and her heart softened.
“Could you please take care of him for a moment, use a cold towel to compress his forehead, I'll be right there!”
“Okay!”
After ending the call, Patricia returned to the dining table, hesitating and embarrassed. Seeing her expression, Martin had already guessed the outcome.
His face turned ashen, and before she could speak, he said, “You can’t go, this is our family’s first time celebrating together!”
Patricia, sweating profusely with anxiety, said, “I'm really sorry, Hunter has a fever. He’s here alone, unfamiliar with the place, and I’m his only friend, I must go see him.”
Martin asked, “How long will that take? Half an hour? An hour? Three hours? Or is the evening’s plan over?”
“Uh…” Patricia couldn’t come up with an answer immediately.
She didn’t know why Hunter was running a fever. Whether it was medication or physical cooling, both required a process and time. If she went now, it would definitely mean the end of the day’s plans.
Seeing she couldn't answer, Martin persisted, “Are you sure you want to leave the four of us behind for Hunter?”
Patricia looked at the three little ones. Charles quietly watched her, his emotions unreadable.
Randy was shaking his head non-stop, with a look of pitiable resistance against her leaving.
Fannie neither opposed nor agreed. She had heard of Hunter's backstory from Patricia, and felt sympathetic towards him, and now hearing that he was unattended with a fever, she still felt compassion.
Patricia bit her lower lip hard, torn, “How about this, you take them out for fun, and I’ll go check on him. If it's not serious, I’ll come back right away.”
Martin took out his phone, pretending to make a call, “I’ll send Alan to take care of him.”
Patricia remembered the wounds on Hunter that were not public knowledge; as Martin was about to dial, she grabbed his hand, “No, Alan can’t go.”
Hunter’s secret could not be disclosed to others. Her agitated response, in Martin’s eyes, was interpreted as her caring for Hunter, liking Hunter, wanting to rush to Hunter, which caused his handsome face to turn steely.
“So, you’re insisting on going?”
Patricia nodded, her voice edged with a plea, "Something happened at the hospital today, he got slashed by a patient trying to save me! His wound could have become infected, and that’s why he’s spiking a fever. It’s my duty to do this. It's a debt I owe him. I hope you can understand!"
Having reached this point in the conversation, Martin felt it would be unreasonable to prevent Patricia from leaving. Thus, he picked up his coat from the back of the chair.
"I'll go with you."
Patricia paused, "What about the children?"
Martin dismissed the concern casually, "We'll all go!"
Patricia feared Hunter's hotel room, may have secrets and given she and Martin weren't close. Not wanting to expose Hunter's private space, she resolutely refused, "You take care of the three kids, I'll go alone!"
Martin's eyes narrowed with uncharacteristic petulance, "You just want to leave us behind and spend the holiday alone with Hunter."
With time of the essence, Patricia didn't want to linger any longer. She patted Charles on the head and said, "Charles, take good care of your brother and sister, call me if you need anything. I'll come back as soon as I'm done with this urgent matter."
Charles replied calmly, "Mommy, go ahead and don’t worry, I've got everything under control."
"Good boy! I'll be off then!" With those hurried words, Patricia turned and walked away without looking back.
Martin's gaze followed Patricia's retreating figure, his entire demeanor shadowed and brooding, anger sizzling just below the surface, poised to erupt.
The Ivara City hotel and the restaurant where Patricia had dined were both in the city center, and not far apart. To avoid traffic, Patricia scanned a shared bicycle by the roadside.
The evening saw heavy pedestrian traffic and the snow on the ground had turned to slush, so Patricia cycled quickly and soon arrived at the hotel. Seeing her arrival, the customer service exhaled a sigh of relief.
"You're finally here! Mr. Miller’s fever won’t break and he’s been delirious. I've been so worried it might damage his brain."
There was heating in the room, so Patricia took off her down jacket and walked into the bedroom. A cold towel was placed on Hunter's forehead, his face flushed crimson as though smeared with rouge, blood-red.
Lost in his unconscious state, he slept restlessly, brows furrowed tightly, hands clutching the quilt, his lips moving ceaselessly in delirium. Too distant to hear, Patricia leaned closer to listen.
Hunter's words became clear in her ear.
"Please stop, don't hit me!”
"It hurts, it’s so painful!”
“Mom, don’t leave me!”
"I know I was wrong; I've been good... please, no more hitting!”
"It's too hot, it’s so painful, it’s so cold!"
“Mom, save me!”
"Dad, save me!"
"Mom, I miss you so much. Where are you? Why did you leave me all alone, Mom..."
"Patricia, Patricia... I miss you terribly. Wait for me; I'll survive and return to find you..."
His words were disjointed, fragments from here and there, yet Patricia's mind conjured up countless images. Scenes of Hunter being abused by Davis Sadie, of Hunter's biological mother dying as he clung tightly to her hand, refusing to let go.
She saw as well the image of his father looking on with cold indifference as Hunter was mistreated and remained unmoved.
It was as if she saw a young boy of barely ten years old kneeling alone in the dark, where not a single thing was visible in the pitch black, completely deserted.
Alone, isolated. Despair seeped through him, inside and out.
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