Chapter 27 Slap Her
"Jack, I'm sorry..." Alison's voice trembled. She knew it wasn't her fault, but the pain she had inadvertently caused him was undeniable.
He slowly released her hand.
The sunlight highlighted his chiseled features, making him look even more striking, but beneath that handsome exterior was a simmering anger that wouldn't fade.
Without warning, he raised his hand and slapped her hard. The sharp sound echoed in her ears.
He put all his strength into that slap.
Blood quickly trickled from the corner of Alison's mouth.
She stood there, motionless, like a puppet, surrounded by the murmurs of onlookers.
She didn't owe him anything, yet it felt like she owed him everything...
Time seemed to stand still as they faced off.
His raised hand slowly lowered. "Why didn't you fight back?"
She smiled faintly, without a trace of resentment, and said softly, "Jack, can I leave now?"
"Leave? No way." He grabbed her and dragged her towards the white Lamborghini parked nearby. She tried to break free but quickly gave up.
His strength was overwhelming; she was no match for him.
He threw her roughly onto the car seat, and her luggage was tossed into the back seat. The car door slammed shut with a loud "bang."
Jack, seething with anger, got into the driver's seat, ignoring the people at the bus stop who were staring at him and calling his name.
It was as if the people weren't talking about him at all, but someone completely unrelated.
The car roared to life and sped off, Jack driving recklessly, narrowly avoiding several pedestrians.
She sat beside him, pale and silent.
Last night, they had fallen asleep in each other's arms, and now they were strangers.
He wanted revenge.
She thought he would drive back to the apartment, but he headed straight for the outskirts of T City.
Images of her possible death flashed through her mind.
His expression told her he was seriously contemplating killing her.
A sharp pain radiated from her chest as her wound began to bleed again.
He wouldn't gently apply medicine for her anymore; he would only wish for her to die in pain.
She bit her lip, saying nothing, believing this was the fate she deserved, something she should have anticipated.
It was as if standing at the bus stop, she was waiting for him to appear and vent his anger on her.
The scenery outside the window flew by so fast she couldn't even remember the beauty.
The Lamborghini drove further and further away, leaving the city far behind.
There were few pedestrians and even fewer cars on the road.
They were now in the mountains on the outskirts of T City, driving on an increasingly narrow dirt road.
Jack's anger hadn't subsided. In this desolate place, she felt doomed, powerless to resist whatever Jack intended to do.
The car continued to jolt forward, each bump aggravating her wound, but she gritted her teeth and remained silent, hiding the pain with tightly pressed lips.
Suddenly, the car swerved and stopped in a thicket.
Jack pounded the steering wheel hard, and the car fell silent, leaving only the sound of their heartbeats, thumping in the quiet.
This silence terrified Alison. She had no idea what Jack would do next. In this deserted place, he could do anything.
Like kill her.
The thought made her tremble uncontrollably.
She curled up, not daring to move.
Jack's voice, like it came from the depths of hell, broke the silence. "Alison, tell me, what was it all for?"
For what?
She didn't know the purpose of the person who had her photos, nor what that person had done.
She was just trying to protect her photos from being leaked.
But could she tell Jack she had been secretly photographed and blackmailed?
No.
She had endured it for three months; revealing it now would make it all for nothing.
She leaned quietly against the seat, her face as pale as porcelain, her silence only fueling Jack's anger.
He suddenly opened the car door, walked around the front, and yanked open the other door, grabbing her by the collar and dragging her out like a rag doll, throwing her onto the grass.
She lay there motionless, letting him do as he pleased.
She had no strength to resist, nor did she want to. Let him vent his anger.
Sunlight filtered through the treetops, casting a faint glow on her face, but her complexion remained bloodless.
Jack took a step forward, his tall figure blocking her view.
He looked down at her, his eyes electric, making her shiver.
That look filled her with fear and panic.
Her chest wound continued to bleed, the pain unbearable, but she dared not show it.
Jack didn't care about her injury; he only saw her face, pretending to be innocent, which made him feel both disgusted and hateful.
"Alison, why aren't you talking?" he demanded.
She had nothing to say because she didn't know what he had gone through.
She closed her eyes gently, not wanting to see his impending rage.
Let the storm come harder; maybe it would lessen her guilt towards Jack.
She felt guilty towards Jack, but what about the person who took her photos?
Would they feel guilty?
There were always shameless people in this world. If she ever found that person, she would make them wish they were dead.
She clenched her fists, silently vowing to make that person pay.
Jack glared at her, her silence and closed eyes driving him over the edge.
He suddenly leaned down, tearing at her clothes, the sound of fabric ripping filling the air.
In an instant, her clothes were in tatters, scattered around her, but she remained motionless like a puppet.
In moments, her clothes were completely torn off, lying in pieces on the green grass.
She still didn't move.
If this could dissipate his anger, then let it end everything they once had this way.
Pain surged through her.
She gritted her teeth, letting him do as he pleased like a puppet.
"Alison, why did you lie to me? Stop pretending to be innocent. You're just a cheap woman!" he snarled, making her pain even worse.