Chapter147 I Got the Wrong Person
Clifton looked down at the woman clinging stubbornly to his thighs and refusing to let go.
A deep sense of helplessness rose in his heart.
He'd never felt this powerless even in gunfire and rain of bullets.
Clifton sighed, his tense body relaxing. He stopped trying to take another step.
"Let go."
The coldness in his voice receded considerably, leaving only somewhat dry hoarseness. "Get up and talk."
Miranda buried her face against his leg, desperately shaking her head, her voice muffled with a heavy nasal tone. "No."
"You're lying. The moment I let go, you'll definitely leave."
Clifton felt his temples throbbing.
Was his credibility really this low in her mind?
Feeling the pressure on his legs not only not loosening but tightening further, Clifton helplessly reached out and placed his hand on top of her head, his rough fingertips gently rubbing.
"I won't leave."
He said in a deep voice, his tone carrying more indulgence than usual.
Miranda sniffled, somewhat hesitantly lifting her head to reveal a pair of red-rimmed eyes. "Really?"
"Really." Clifton found it somewhat amusing.
Miranda's face heated. She released her hands and braced against the floor to stand.
But she'd been crouching too long, and with her earlier emotional outburst, her legs had long gone numb.
She'd barely gotten halfway up when her body tilted sideways, about to fall.
Clifton's reflexes were quick. His long arm shot out, directly hooking around her waist and steadily pulling her into his embrace.
The man's chest was scalding and solid, mixed with the fresh scent after bathing and that hormone-laden aura unique to him, instantly enveloping Miranda.
She instinctively grabbed his bare arm.
The muscles beneath her palm instantly tensed.
The two were extremely close, breaths mingling.
Miranda could even clearly see the faint dark circles under his lashes—obviously from not resting well.
She felt somewhat embarrassed and straightened up, taking half a step back to create some distance, but her hands didn't dare release his arm, afraid he'd change his mind and run.
The light was dim and ambiguous, falling on her face and illuminating that blush rising from embarrassment exceptionally clearly.
"Um..."
Miranda bit her lip, forcing herself to calm down.
Now wasn't the time to be shy. Clearing up the misunderstanding was what mattered.
"Did you see the text I sent you?" She looked up at him urgently.
Clifton glanced at his phone, which he'd casually grabbed and tossed on the nightstand after returning home, his voice flat. "Haven't had time to turn it on yet."
He'd just gotten back from base. After showering and preparing to treat his wounds, he really hadn't had time to check his phone.
Miranda took a deep breath, no longer beating around the bush. Those clear eyes looked straight into his, her voice trembling yet unusually firm.
"Clifton, that day at the foreign mine. The person who dug me out of the rubble was you, wasn't it?"
Clifton raised an eyebrow, his expression calm.
"Mm."
Even though she'd already known the answer in her heart, when that word actually came from his mouth, Miranda still felt like her heart had been violently struck with a sledgehammer.
When she was most desperate, thinking she would die in a foreign land, this man had descended like a deity and given her a second life.
How ridiculous that she'd gotten the person wrong.
"I'm sorry."
Miranda lowered her head, tears falling like broken beads. "I really didn't know it was you. When I woke up in the hospital that day, the first person I saw was Harrison."
"He was covered in dirt, keeping watch by the hospital bed. I thought he'd saved me. I didn't want to owe him anything. I wanted to give him money, but he wouldn't take it."
"He asked me to have dinner with him for a month, as repayment for saving my life."
Listening, Clifton's expression gradually darkened.
Harrison.
Heh. Excellent.
Dared to claim credit for his work, even dared to make demands of Miranda.
His hands hanging at his sides gradually clenched into fists.
"These past few days, I turned down your invitations because I wanted to settle this so-called life debt and then cut ties with him completely."
"I didn't want to owe him anything."
"I never meant to deceive you, much less betray you."
"I was too stupid, actually getting wrong who even saved me..."
The girl's voice grew smaller and smaller, full of self-blame and regret.
Looking at this woman before him crying with red-rimmed eyes, the remnants of anger in Clifton's heart had long since dissipated.
Replaced by self-reproach and heartache.
He was angry she'd gotten the person wrong.
But he was more angry at himself.
Angry that because the mission was urgent, after confirming she was fine at the hospital, he'd left in a hurry, giving Harrison an opportunity.
Angry that these past two days he hadn't investigated clearly but instead sulked at her, speaking coldly to her.
"Stop crying."
Clifton sighed, stepped forward, reached out to grip her chin, and forced her to lift her head.
Unlike last time's dominance, this time his fingertips were impossibly gentle, lightly brushing past her moist eyes, taking away those scalding tears.
"Silly."
The man's low voice carried a hint of helpless indulgence. "This isn't entirely your fault. I made mistakes too."
"If I'd left someone to watch over you then, or told you earlier, none of this mess would have happened."
Miranda sniffled, desperately shaking her head.
"No, I'm the one who couldn't recognize people."
Her gaze fell on his bare upper body, her eyes sweeping over those purple bruises and that hastily bandaged wound.
That day in the surveillance footage, he'd been covered in blood.
She suddenly remembered—those few days he was abroad, he'd been on a special mission.
That meant while executing a life-or-death mission, he'd still had to spare attention to save her.
In that state of extreme exhaustion and pain, he'd snatched her back from death's hands without saying a single word to claim credit.
"Clifton..."
Miranda's trembling fingers touched an old scar on his chest, her voice shaking. "You must have been so tired then."
One side the weight of his mission, the other side her safety.
Clifton looked down, seeing the thick concern in her eyes that couldn't be dissolved, his Adam's apple bobbing.
Tired?
Naturally.
But the moment he saw she was still breathing in that mine pit, all the exhaustion was worth it.
"Not tired."
Clifton's lips curved slightly. His large palm cupped the back of her head as he leaned down close.
Warm breath fell on her face, carrying intensely aggressive energy.
"As long as you're safe, even if I only had one breath left, I could carry you out."
The moment his words fell, he lowered his head and kissed her moist lashes.
His movements were gentle, as if handling a priceless treasure.
Miranda only felt heat on her eyelids, her whole body like it had been electrified, frozen in place.
Next, that kiss slid down along her nose bridge and finally landed on her lips.
This time, it was no longer a gentle touch.
The man's lips and tongue forcefully pried open her teeth, carrying long-suppressed possessiveness, driving straight in.