Chapter 147 Is This a Confession?
Punch after punch landed with brute force, devoid of any finesse—just the primal, vicious swings you'd expect in a testosterone-driven brawl.
Winona Sullivan’s voice was tense with anxiety, “Zachary Bailey...”
Her words did nothing to stem the tide of his rage, instead, they seemed to provoke him further, fueling the ferocity of his assault.
Matthew Watson had never been much of a fighter, and it was evident he was quickly getting the worse of it. Winona tried to grab hold of Zachary, but the man was beyond reason in his fury, nearly tossing her aside with a wild, agitated movement.
But Winona was ready for him. As he tried to shake her off, she wrapped her arms around his, leaning in with all her weight.
No matter how strong he was, Zachary couldn't easily break free from her hold.
This pause allowed his reason to return slowly, although the anger and destructive urge in him remained undiminished. His expression was stone-cold as he looked down at her, "Winona Sullivan, you're protecting him?"
He remembered a past fight with Austin Robinson; Winona had just walked away, later stopped by the security guard of the apartment complex, barely remaining at the scene, but keeping to the side, as if to say, "Get it over with so I can go back to sleep."
This time, she had rushed up without regard for her own safety to stop him.
Indeed, the difference was clear between someone you cared for and someone you didn't.
Winona glanced at Matthew, whose face and clothes were smeared with blood, indistinguishable from where it all started. He was still standing but swaying, looking as if he might collapse at any moment.
Feeling her gaze, Matthew looked up at her, a slight crooked smile on his lips, "I'm alright, don't worry."
Winona was flooded with guilt.
She had only wanted to distance herself from Zachary, who kept insisting she liked Matthew—so she decided to just admit it. But she had never expected Zachary to go this far, as if he had the intent to beat someone to death.
Looking at Matthew, one could tell he wasn't the fighting type. If she hadn't intervened, the next people called to the scene might have been morgue attendants.
At Matthew's assurance, Zachary let out a sardonic chuckle, tensed under Winona's grip, which still clung to him, making any slight movement perceptible to her.
She released her grip, positioning herself in front of Matthew Watson, "Enough is enough!"
The scorn was thick on the man's face, "Do you really think you can stop me by standing in front of him?"
Winona Sullivan gazed at the brazen man before her, her palm itching with the urge to slap him once more.
Outside, a ruckus of footsteps was drawing near. The commotion had alerted the nurses, and now security was on the scene. As the door swung open, they were met with the sight of two bloody figures amidst the chaos littering the floor.
The first few people to arrive were momentarily stunned, exchanging glances and hesitating on whether or not to call the police.
When Winona saw reinforcements, she turned to support Matthew Watson, "Doctor, please, he needs immediate attention."
Matthew looked terrible. Despite the doctor's intimidation by Zachary Bailey's commanding presence, the calling to save lives prevailed over fear, especially since Zachary showed no intent to act further.
The doctor assisted Winona with Matthew, shouting towards the hallway, "We need a gurney! Get him up to surgery, stat!"
He was an ear, nose, and throat specialist; trauma wasn't his field.
After Winona and Matthew departed, Zachary Bailey collapsed into a seat, his eyes half-closed, devoid of all energy.
In the scuffle, his shirt had lost several buttons, leaving its collar undone. His slacks were wrinkled, and there was a long cut dripping blood down the back of his hand.
A nurse approached cautiously, "Sir, you need to have those wounds dressed. Let me help you to the entrance."
She wanted to wheel in a stretcher, but the disarray in the room barely allowed for foot traffic, let alone maneuvering a bed.
Zachary barely opened his eyes, his voice icy with a single command, "Leave."
The nurse tried to protest, "But sir, if you don't—"
"Get out," his eyes suddenly snapped open, the ferocity within them striking the nurse who stood beside him, "Take everyone and leave."
Frightened, the nurse quickly ushered the others out and even closed the door behind her.
...
In the surgery ward changing room, Winona Sullivan sat on a bench outside. Matthew Watson was inside, having his wounds treated; it had been a while, and she had no clue how severe his injuries were.
Ten minutes passed, and he emerged with bandages wrapped around his forehead and hand, followed by a doctor in a white coat, "We've taken care of the wounds. We're going to arrange a CT scan to check for any internal injuries."
"Thank you, doctor," Winona responded eagerly, ready to assist Matthew.
The CT room and the billing office were both on the first floor. Winona Sullivan steadied Matthew Watson, "Can you walk? Or should I go down to the reception and get a wheelchair?"
"No need for a wheelchair."
Despite Matthew's words, Winona still slowed her pace, supporting him as they made their way toward the elevator. His legs were fine; the recent scuffle with Zachary Bailey had been all about fists flying towards faces and abdomens. But seeing her concern, Matthew couldn't help but curve his lips into a half-smile and stayed quiet.
"Sorry."
"Sorry."
They spoke at the same time.
Looking up, their eyes met, and a moment of silence befell them before Matthew spoke up, "I didn't know you had been looking for me back then..."
"It's in the past," Winona shook her head. In her desperation then, she had sought help without considering the circumstances of the Watson family, acting without a full understanding. Now, she realized she might have pushed him too hard.
To spare him any guilt, she feigned distress, "It was smart of you not to agree to my request. I really couldn't pay back that much money."
She couldn't quite recall the exact amount she owed, but even after splitting the marital assets with Zachary Bailey, she was still in debt for millions. The sum back then would have been even greater.
Seeing Matthew's mouth twitch as if he wanted to say something, Winona quickly changed the subject. She didn't want to dwell on the past, "I'm sorry about today. I just wanted to get away from Zachary, so I dragged you into the act. I never expected him to lash out like that."
"Winona," Matthew caught the hand she had raised to press the elevator button. "Knowing now that the past was just a cruel twist of fate, is there a chance to set things right?"
"What..." Winona was momentarily taken aback, mostly because his confession was utterly non-direct. But upon replaying his words, she realized he was indeed making a romantic overture, "I'm sorry, Matthew, but that's all in the past for me now, and I really just see you as a friend."
She wanted to say she saw him like a brother, but aware of their different social standing, she felt it wouldn’t be fair.
The elevator arrived, and Matthew let go of her hand to step in.
Winona followed him inside, though the atmosphere was now tinged with an awkward tension.
Once they reached the first floor, she quickly said, "You wait here for me. I'll go take care of the bill, and then we can head to the CT room."
Matthew Watson caught her arm just as she was about to turn away, his face breaking into a gentle smile once more. "I'll handle it myself. Don't you need to get something from home for Miss Davis? Go on, don't let me keep you."
Winona Sullivan protested, "I can't just—"
"Go ahead," he insisted, taking the appointment card from her hand with a firmer tone. "It's just a scratch; I'm not so bad off that I need an escort. And don't feel guilty about it, alright? That fight with Zachary wasn’t just about you."
Seeing that Matthew wanted her to leave, she nodded. "Okay, if you need anything, call me. I'll take care of what I need to."
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