Chapter 50 Take Me
Lucas quickly opened the rear door, and Zachary climbed in with Quinley in his arms.
"Mr. Jennings, should we go to the hospital?" Lucas returned to the driver's seat and started the engine. The Maybach quickly merged into traffic.
Zachary glanced down at the woman in his arms. She wasn't sleeping peacefully, but for once she wasn't pushing him away. Her arms were wrapped around his waist.
"Maple Estate." After a moment's hesitation, Zachary made his decision.
Half an hour later, Quinley was lying on Zachary's king-size bed. She sprawled ungracefully, arms and legs akimbo. Zachary went to the bathroom, dampened a towel, and gently wiped her face, then her hands and feet.
Her skin was flushed red, covered in a fine layer of sweat. When he reached to unbutton her outer shirt, Quinley suddenly lost control, swinging her hands wildly.
Zachary couldn't dodge in time and took several slaps to the face.
"Bastard, get away!" Quinley muttered incoherently, her delicate eyebrows furrowed into tight lines as her body thrashed on the bed.
Zachary had no idea how much Quinley had drunk or what had traumatized her, but he had ways to find out.
"Look into it. Who did she meet today, what happened? I want every detail." He called Lucas immediately.
"Yes, Mr. Jennings." Lucas accepted the order and hurried to investigate.
On the bed, Quinley continued flailing her arms wildly. Zachary approached and gently grasped her hands. "Don't be afraid. It's me."
His voice was soothing. Finally, her hands stilled. He held them in his palms, sitting sideways on the bed edge, staying with Quinley.
In front of him, she was always perfectly put-together, always projecting strength and optimism. He'd never realized how fragile she was underneath.
"So hot!" After some time, Quinley became restless again. She pushed Zachary away and began tearing at her clothes.
Her body looked like a piece of red-hot coal—terrifying to watch.
"Quinley, what's wrong?" Zachary gently patted her face. When his cool hand touched her burning cheek, she suddenly grabbed it.
She pressed her whole face against his palm. "So nice!" She nuzzled his palm with her cheek. Zachary's frown deepened as realization dawned on him.
At the same time, Quinley slowly opened her eyes, her gaze unfocused and hazy. Using his hand for support, she struggled to sit up.
"Take me!" She grabbed his large hand and pressed it to her chest.
The soft, firm curves were warm and inviting. Zachary's hand was pressed against them involuntarily, and a familiar stirring ignited deep within him.
Zachary didn't move. He just stared intently at Quinley, his brow furrowed. She leaned closer and kissed his lips actively.
The collision of lips and teeth was desire crying out. She desperately wanted to possess him, pushing him down as her entire body pressed against his.
Since she'd suggested they separate, Zachary and Quinley had barely had any intimate contact. He was a red-blooded man, and Quinley lived in his heart. He longed to unite with her physically too.
Especially with her being so forward now—his suppressed desire was like a caged beast breaking free, unstoppable.
He flipped over, pinning her beneath him. Their eyes met in a battle of desire against desire.
"Do you know who I am?" Zachary suddenly asked. He never took advantage of someone's vulnerability.
Quinley had been drugged. If she couldn't remember him, he absolutely wouldn't touch her.
Zachary stared intensely at Quinley, hoping she would nod and say yes. Then he could rightfully unite with her.
However, Quinley's reaction disappointed him. She stared at him for a moment, then suddenly the light in her eyes died out.
"Let me go, let me go!" Quinley struggled violently, writhing like a snake trying to escape from beneath him.
She had ignited the fire but rejected his approach. Zachary's heart softened, and he released her.
Quinley jumped off the bed and rushed into the bathroom. Through the door, Zachary could hear the sound of rushing water.
He got up from the bed and walked straight to the bedroom balcony. Light rain was falling outside, pattering softly, filling the air with moisture.
He lit a cigarette and smoked slowly, facing the misty rain. The smoke swirled around him, but couldn't dispel the sorrow in his heart.
So she really was that unwilling to have anything to do with him. Even when she'd nearly lost consciousness, just hearing his name or recognizing his face triggered her instinctive response to flee.
The cigarette was crisp but bitter, creating an impenetrable fog of confusion in Zachary's heart.
After standing on the balcony for a while, Zachary returned to the room. The bathroom door was tightly closed, and the water was still running.
Zachary grabbed a jacket and headed out. Passing the bathroom door, he knocked gently. "I'm leaving. Sleep here tonight."
No sound came from the bathroom.
Zachary paused and asked again, "Quinley, are you still in there?"
Only the sound of rushing water answered him.
He tried the door handle—it was locked from inside. Zachary quickly found the spare key from a drawer. The moment he opened the door, he was stunned.
Quinley lay in the water-filled bathtub, completely soaked. She would rather harm herself in this extreme way than let him touch her.
Zachary's heart instantly sank to rock bottom.
Water had overflowed from the tub, spreading across the floor. Quinley's head lolled against the tub's edge, her face deathly pale, her arms hanging limply over the sides.
Dark clouds covered Zachary's expression, his eyes deep as an unfathomable abyss. He pulled Quinley from the tub in one swift motion, his large hands roughly tearing away her waterlogged clothes.
Her skin had turned white and cold from the water, almost losing all warmth. Zachary carried her quickly to the bed and tucked her under the covers.
He dialed Dr. Brown's number, then hung up immediately. Dr. Brown was the Jennings family physician, but Zachary wasn't comfortable with that. He instructed Lucas instead, "Get David to Maple Estate."
About twenty minutes later, David appeared. He wasn't wearing a white coat, just carrying a medical bag as he came upstairs.
"Can't a guy get some sleep? Zachary, I'm a doctor who saves lives, not your family's servant."
David complained while dropping his medical bag heavily on the floor. He looked reluctant, but his sharp eyes immediately swept toward Zachary's bed.
A small figure was curled up on the bed. Catching just a glimpse, David's mind wandered in the wrong direction.
He teased, "No way. Your taste changed again? Thought you always liked the curvy types. How'd you end up with this skinny little thing?"
"What's good about this type of woman? No chest, no curves, no appeal. What's the point? Playing daddy?"
David's mouth ran away with him, his teasing becoming increasingly inappropriate.
Zachary didn't respond, using most of his body to shield Quinley from view. "Cut the chatter. I called you here to treat a patient."
"My house call fees are expensive."
David lounged in the single armchair by the door, raising his prices on the spot to squeeze Zachary.
Zachary said nothing, just pulled out a checkbook, scrawled a series of numbers, signed it, and handed it to David. "Enough?"
David took it and carefully checked the figures. A six-figure house call fee—definitely not cheap.
He didn't need the money. He just enjoyed having Zachary need something from him, giving him leverage to toy with his friend.
"That's more like it." David smiled smugly. He opened his medical bag, pulled out some basic examination tools, and walked toward the bed.
"What's wrong with her?"
David still couldn't see Quinley's face clearly, but her profile seemed familiar.
"She accidentally ingested an aphrodisiac."
David gave Zachary a meaningful look and snorted coldly. "Ha! Who knew you looked so proper but played so dirty!"
However, when he got a clear look at the woman on the bed, David's smile froze.