Chapter 54 More Harm Than Good
Sloane's POV
The slap sent Keira stumbling sideways. She clutched her rapidly swelling cheek, staring at me in disbelief, clearly never expecting me to fight back, let alone hit her that hard.
After the brief shock came overwhelming humiliation and rage.
"How dare you hit me!" She lunged at me like a crazed lioness, screaming, her nails aimed straight at my face. "I'll kill you, you bitch! You're nothing but a cockroach crawled out of the slums—what gives you the right to hit me!"
The slums.
Those words stabbed into my ears like a poisoned needle.
I looked at her coldly, my indifferent attitude clearly more infuriating than the slap itself.
The last shred of sanity in her eyes burned away completely. As she charged at me shrieking, she played dirty—her foot kicked viciously at my shin.
Sharp pain shot through me. I couldn't keep my balance and fell backward, out of control.
My body hit the floor with a dull thud. My elbow struck the hard marble, the pain making my vision go dark.
Keira probably didn't expect me to fall either. She lost her balance too, tumbling clumsily beside me.
The commotion at the end of the hallway seemed to fade away. All I could hear was ringing in my ears.
Keira struggled to get up, ready to come at me again, but when her gaze swept past something behind me, her expression changed dramatically in an instant.
She covered her swollen cheek, tears coming on command, falling in big drops. She looked exactly like a delicate flower battered by wind and rain.
I didn't need to turn around to know who had arrived.
Jared's tall figure cast a shadow that enveloped me.
He walked over in a few strides, not even glancing at Keira crying her eyes out beside us, and reached out his hand directly to help me up from the floor.
"Jared..." Keira choked out, getting her complaint in first, her voice full of wronged grievance. "I just wanted to say hello to Sloane, and she suddenly hit me and said a lot of terrible things to humiliate me..."
She spoke while sobbing, her acting skills good enough to win an Oscar.
I couldn't be bothered to defend myself, or even to look at Jared's reaction.
I just wanted to stand up on my own, but I'd barely propped up my upper body when Jared's ice-cold voice rang out, completely devoid of warmth.
"I saw everything."
Those three simple words cut through everything. Keira's crying stopped instantly.
She looked up in disbelief, the color draining completely from her face, leaving only panic and pallor.
Jared's gaze stayed on me the whole time. He crouched down and reached out his hand again, his tone carrying an undeniable firmness. "Get up."
I looked at him, suddenly finding it all rather ironic.
I didn't take his hand. Instead, I pushed myself up from the floor slowly.
Once I was steady, I even managed a cold smile, pointing at Keira swaying beside us. "Your Keira is scared out of her mind. Aren't you going to comfort her?"
I thought he would do what he'd done countless times before—even knowing full well what really happened, he'd still go comfort Keira for the sake of appearances.
But he didn't.
It was as if he hadn't heard me at all. His brow furrowed as he grabbed my arm, those unfathomably dark eyes scanning me anxiously up and down. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
His gaze finally stopped on my shin, where Keira had kicked me. Through the thin stockings, a clear bruise was already visible.
The air pressure around him instantly dropped to freezing.
He whipped his head around, those ice-cold eyes boring into Keira, his voice full of undisguised fury and menace. "Why did you hit her so hard?"
Both Keira and I froze.
Keira probably never expected Jared to publicly scold her so mercilessly for my sake.
And I never expected the anger in his eyes to be so real, so genuinely indignant on my behalf.
This was too unfamiliar, so unfamiliar it felt absurd.
"I... I didn't mean to..." Keira was so frightened she could barely speak coherently, tears streaming down again—this time, genuinely scared.
Jared couldn't even be bothered to spare her an extra glance.
He suddenly bent down and, before I could react, swept me up in his arms.
My body suddenly suspended in air, I let out an involuntary gasp and instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck. His crisp cedar scent mixed with a faint smell of alcohol enveloped me, his embrace solid and burning hot, so hot it made my heart race anxiously.
"Jared!" I struggled, somewhat annoyed. "Put me down!"
"Don't move." He commanded in a low voice, his arms holding me even tighter as he strode toward the exit.
"Jared!" Behind us came Keira's tearful, disbelieving shriek. "You're just leaving me? My face hurts so much... help me up..."
Jared's steps didn't falter for a second, as if the girl he'd once protected in every way was now just an irrelevant stranger.
He carried me through the restaurant, past countless shocked stares, straight out through the revolving door.
In the hospital, the sharp smell of disinfectant made my tense nerves relax slightly.
The ER doctor treated the scrape on my elbow and sprayed medicine on the bruise on my shin.
Throughout the whole process, Jared stayed right beside me, his face so dark it looked like a storm was coming, making the young doctor so nervous he barely dared to breathe.
After the bandaging was done, the doctor gave a few instructions and fled like he was escaping.
Only the two of us were left in the room, so quiet we could hear each other breathing.
I sat on the hospital bed, looking down at my gauze-wrapped elbow and the bruised shin, my mind blank.
"Why are you doing this?" I finally spoke, my voice soft, carrying a confusion I hadn't even noticed myself.
Everything he'd done tonight was completely beyond my expectations.
The Jared who always put family first no matter what, and this man fussing over my cuts while ditching Keira—they were like two different people.
Jared stood by the window, his back to me, his tall figure cut into something almost lonely by the neon lights outside.
Hearing my question, he was silent for a long time before slowly turning around.
He looked at me, those deep eyes churning with complex emotions I couldn't read—exhaustion, pain, and a trace of almost stubborn obsession.
"We're not divorced yet," he said, his voice terribly hoarse. "As long as you're still my wife, I have to be responsible for you."
I looked at him and smiled slightly.