Chapter142 Emergency
Zachary Bailey's frown deepened as he watched Winona Sullivan. He instantly regretted what he had said; he would have preferred her wrath, a fiery tongue lashing rather than this cold dismissal.
Without more than a goodbye to Austin, Winona slung her purse over her shoulder and left, utterly disregarding Zachary—as if he were nothing.
Zachary rushed after her. "I'm sorry about what I said just now. It wasn't meant for you. I was just trying to get a rise out of Austin, not you."
Apologies weren't his forte, and it showed. His awkwardness made him unrecognizable compared to the suave Mr. Bailey everyone knew.
No matter what he said, Winona wouldn't give him the time of day.
He pressed his fingers against his forehead, a sign of his helpless frustration. "Winona Sullivan, how long are you going to keep this up?"
To him, her silence was a tantrum, a refusal to communicate and solve the problem.
The silence remained unbroken.
Winona had arrived in her bodyguard's car, but now, everything associated with Zachary Bailey repulsed her. She decided to grab a taxi instead.
She hadn't gone far when Zachary grabbed her. "The car's this way."
Winona jerked her hand away, disgust creasing her brow. "I'll take a cab."
"It's not safe."
"Being around him was the real danger, she thought. But she had nothing to say; she just wanted to get away as fast as possible."
Without a word, Winona started to jog toward the street.
Zachary gritted his teeth, watching her desperately trying to put distance between them. He tried to hold back, but instinct won out. He strode forward, ignoring her struggles, and scooped her up in his arms.
Winona gasped at the sudden lift, and once she realized what was happening, she thrashed wildly, kicking her legs. "Let me down..."
She was fighting like a wildcat, scratching furious red lines across Zachary Bailey's neck, nails leaving burning trails of pain. His patience finally frayed as anger flickered in his eyes. "Winona Sullivan, if you keep thrashing, I swear I'll toss you out."
Winona was squirming with so much vigor, he almost couldn't hold on. A fall from this height would hurt like hell, even if it didn't break any bones.
"Let go."
But the woman in his arms was ignoring his threat, struggling even more fiercely. Zachary leaned in, attempting to stabilize her, but then...
"Thud..."
Unintentionally, Winona's forehead collided with something hard.
The impact was brutal, casting a momentary shroud of darkness before her eyes, leaving her head spinning and a throbbing pain radiated from the spot of the collision.
"Ouch..."
She whimpered in pain, reaching up to cradle her sore forehead, when she felt something warm and wet hitting her face.
"Drip... Drip..."
Before she could grasp what it was, she heard Zachary's voice, cold and furious, from above: "Winona Sullivan..."
As her senses snapped back, a faint metallic scent hit her. Blood.
Winona's eyes lifted to meet Zachary Bailey's sharp, tense face. His dark eyes were seething with rage, red trails snaking down from his proud nose, crossing his lips and jaw, dripping steadily.
So it was his nose she had hit; she had managed to give him a bloody nose.
Both his hands were occupied, leaving him no way to stem the flow, blood pouring down profusely.
Winona's face was damp with his blood, the thick, acrid smell overwhelming her, prompting her to turn away, trying not to get smeared with his blood. Annoyed, she snapped, "I told you to let me go!"
She moved slightly, but Zachary's arms remained firmly around her, not showing any signs of releasing her.
"You need to pinch your nose, stop the bleeding. If you keep bleeding like this, I'm afraid you'll faint," she said with urgency, not out of sympathy but from the sheer horror of his nosebleed which seemed endless, like twin rivulets with no signs of stopping. If they dawdled any longer, he might become lightheaded from the blood loss.
In a public street under watchful eyes and surveillance cameras, if he died from such a cause, she wouldn't be able to clear her name no matter how much she explained.
Zachary set her down. "You caused this mess. Shouldn't you be the one to stop the bleeding?"
Winona Sullivan couldn't believe she was admiring him at a time like this, arguing over such trivialities. But then again, men can sometimes be stubborn. His eyes were locked onto hers, showing no intention of tending to his own bleeding nose.
She rummaged in her bag for some tissues, pulled out a few, and pressed them firmly against his nose.
Zachary Bailey's voice came unexpectedly. "Feels like it's broken."
Winona was already on edge and without a second thought blurted out, "What's broken?"
"My nose."
She was incredulous. Could the light bump just now have broken it?
Despite her skepticism, she couldn't resist probing gently with her fingers, causing him to wince and hiss in pain.
Zachary Bailey's tolerance for pain was almost inhuman. He wouldn't even flinch at serious injuries, so his reaction to a slight touch now suggested he was in real trouble.
Winona quickly withdrew her hand, afraid of making things worse. "Then you should have your bodyguard take you to the hospital," she urged.
He snorted in response. "Nice try. You cause the mess and expect someone else to clean it up? You paying their wages or sponsoring their meals?"
Winona was speechless.
Then he continued, "Do you have any idea how much women love this face? If this injury ruins my looks and affects my love life, you'll have to take responsibility."
Taking a deep breath, Winona turned to the bodyguard and said, "Get the car."
The entire ride she dared not let go, fearing she'd get her hands covered in blood again.
At the hospital, while the bodyguard went to check in, Winona sat in the emergency waiting room, holding his nose, acutely aware of the curious glances thrown their way.
Zachary's nose, already bumped and now pinched the whole ride, throbbed painfully. "Ease up a bit, will you? Everyone's staring."
Winona felt utterly jinxed; the more she tried to distance herself from this man, the more tangled they got in all sorts of messes. "They're staring because they can't believe a man can't hold his own nose."
His response was a silent stare.
The wait wasn’t long, and soon they were called in. The doctor, equipped with professional tools, checked his nose, gave it a squeeze, and proclaimed, "It's not broken, and the bleeding has stopped. It's just a contusion. Try not to bump it for a few days. I'll prescribe an ointment—keep an eye on it. If it bleeds again, go see an ENT for a thorough checkup."
Winona thanked the doctor.
But Zachary was not convinced. "It still hurts, a lot. I think I should be admitted."
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