Chapter 79. Volatile Heat

Chapter 79: Chapter 79. Volatile Heat

Chapter 79. Volatile Heat

His laughter rang out, filling the quiet space of the kitchen around them. Rosa frowned, staring at him with a raised eyebrow, clearly finding his reaction absurd. Don threw his head back, laughing out loud after those words escaped her lips, but there was an unmistakable edge to it—sarcastic, hollow, forced. It was that kind of nervous laughter people used when trying to hide something buried deep down inside.

She observed him closely as his posture straightened, a focused look returning to his eyes while his shoulders still trembled with lingering chuckles. He jerked the mug of coffee toward her.

"Oh, goodness me, damn. You are the most funniest person I’ve ever seen in my life," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Please take this from me. It appears you need it. Your head is probably not clear at all. The cold must have gotten to you—wherever you were outside. I really can’t take this seriously. This will keep you warm, and it’ll probably bring you back to your right senses."

Rosa frowned at him, her eyebrow arching higher. "Are you seriously playing this game with me too?" she asked.

Don froze, staring at her with a raised eyebrow. "Game? What do you mean, ’too’? Did somebody else deceive you like this, or did you talk about this with somebody else?"

She blinked, letting out a sharp breath. "No," she snapped quickly, refusing to divert the conversation to Tim. She wanted to eradicate any trace of Tim from her mind. She wanted to forget about him, to forget about what the fuck had happened last night. Her mind was spinning in circles, pushing her to the brink of losing control completely. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. "Look, just listen to me," she murmured. "It’s actually very, very funny."

He exhaled and casually set the mug down on the kitchen center island, watching her with an arched brow. She leaned against the cool marble edge. He leaned against it too, giving her his full, calculated attention. She could see he was clearly pretending to listen, just playing along to humor her, but she ignored it and pressed on.

"Okay, this was how it happened," she began, the words tumbling out. "You suddenly ran into the room. I don’t know—you looked at the clock, it was 12:00 a.m., and you just bolted off. You ran into that weird room. I tried to follow you, but you had already locked the door. There were roars in that room, and chains... everything just felt wrong. It sounded like there was a wild animal in there. It sounded so crazy, Don! I was so terrified. I tried to run, and then all of a sudden, the whole building began to shake like there was an earthquake. My heart couldn’t keep up. What else would you expect me to do in that situation? I ran. I bolted out of the building as fast as I could. I mean, I cherish my life more than anything else, right?"

She blinked rapidly, staring directly into his face. "If you were the one, wouldn’t you run out in that kind of situation? It felt completely insane."

When she stopped talking, she caught the way he was staring at her. One of his eyebrows remained arched, his eyelids squinted, and his lips smacked together in silent skepticism. His eyes darted around her face as if he couldn’t comprehend a single word—as if he thought something had fundamentally gone wrong in her mind.

Rosa ground her teeth together. Is he seriously trying to play dumb with me? she thought, blinking at him in sheer frustration.

He chuckled again and looked down at the marble surface of the center island before letting out a heavy, deliberate sigh. "I really do not know," he murmured, tracing his finger slowly against the marble top as if lost in thought.

Rosa’s eyes darted from his hand back to his face. "You do not know what? What exactly are you talking about?" she asked.

He chuckled and smacked his lips together. "Still seems to me like these hallucinations have come right back again," he said, squinting and twisting his face into an expression that suggested he did not want to talk about it, even though it was painfully obvious. He shook his head, disappointment visible on his features. "I really thought it was going to be something very, very important." He shook his head again and turned away. "There’s really no choice at this point."

She stared at him in utter disbelief, her jaw hanging open.

Don froze a few paces away, turning back to look at her. "At this point in time, I guess I really have no choice but to take you to the hospital to ensure you are checked properly—to make sure you are in your right state of mind. Maybe give you some kind of medication and therapy that will help you recover. You must be going through a lot to be having these hallucinations, this wild trauma. I don’t really know... Your face seems so pretty to me, I just..." He stopped talking all of a sudden, as if finally realizing something. He thrust his index finger at her, pointing at her face. "Wait, are you really getting enough sleep?" he murmured.

Rosa’s jaw dropped even further as she stared at him in disbelief, her eyes wide and blinking rapidly. She let out a sharp scoff.

"Also, it was cold outside last night," he murmured, shaking his head. "Only the good heavens know where you were, where you stayed throughout the night, or how you even survived up to this point. But at the same time, I can’t rule anything out. I still need to have you checked to ensure you didn’t catch hypothermia or something."

He smacked his lips together and let out a heavy sigh. "Wow, so many things to check all at once, since the cold must have gotten straight into your brain. Those hallucinations are coming right back in full force."

Rosa folded her lips and threw her head to the side, closing her eyes tight. She clenched her fists tightly against the marble top of the center island until her knuckles turned white. She was losing it—freaking losing it.

You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought to herself. She breathed in, then breathed out.

"Look, I’m sorry for whatever you might have gone through, little nice Rosa, but don’t worry, I’m here to care for you, okay?" Don said, stepping closer. "You have nothing to worry about. Why don’t you just head upstairs, get yourself ready and prepared, and then maybe I can take you over to the hospital?"

"I am not stupid!" she snapped. Her voice exploded into a loud shout that echoed all over the kitchen.

Don froze, his eyes wide as he stared at her in shock, clearly not expecting her to snap like that. He watched her squeeze her eyes shut tightly. Her chest was heaving, the faint veins popping out on sections of her face, revealing the painful truth: she was barely holding it together. She breathed in hard, her shoulders rising and falling in heavy, ragged motions.

"Can you please just fucking explain to me what the fuck is going on right now?" she muttered, her voice low, deep, and brittle, revealing the full extent of her rage.

He stared at her in silence. Her eyes were still closed, clearly suppressed heat rushing deep down in her chest. He stared at her with a raised eyebrow, clenching his teeth tightly together.

Oh my God, he thought to himself, panic quietly stirring within him. She caught on. She’s clearly catching on.

He ground his teeth together, a heavy frown forming. I was so occupied with the entire transformation I didn’t even bother to look at her to know how much she had seen. This is all my fault. I really should have gotten out of that bed before 12.

Don raked his fingers through his hair, watching her as she kept her eyes closed, fighting for control. He breathed out, quickly adjusting his features. When she snapped her eyes open, he instantly switched his countenance back, looking utterly confused by her words. He slipped back into that neutral state, staring at her with an arched eyebrow, his lips expanding into a pretentious smirk.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "Yo, honestly, believe me, you’ve got to chill."

She glared at him, her lips trembling violently as her eyes slowly began to redden with unshed tears.

Yeah, she is definitely losing it, he thought.

"How the hell do you expect me to chill?" she murmured, her voice shaking. "How do you expect me to chill when everything—everything—is just fucking driving me crazy?"

She gestured wildly around her head, as if she wanted to pull her own hair out.

Don breathed out and blinked rapidly. God, how much longer can I stand this? he thought to himself, staring at her as a strange, volatile heat—one he never thought he would have to battle—began lurking deep down in his chest.