CHAPTER 16: CHAPTER 16: I’LL CARRY YOU

This summer has been one thunderstorm after another for Renee Winslow.

She doesn’t know when the next storm will come, only hoping it won’t happen too often.

She dislikes these sombre, rainy days, because in such weather, she met Jack Yates and was trapped in a cage, enduring his anger, which was more vicious than the storm itself.

Renee Winslow furrowed her brows tightly, her face pale, breathing delicately.

"Mr. Yates." She cried like a pear blossom in the rain, weak and pitiable, her trembling hand touching his face, pleading softly, "Calm down, please don’t be like this."

Even though she doesn’t know why Jack Yates is angry, she knows that he is indeed angry because she is enduring his anger now.

But her pleadings are completely useless; Jack Yates remains strong and domineering.

The fierce wind howled, rain poured down, and the garden was covered with roses beaten down by the storm.

Renee Winslow woke in the middle of the night, thirsty, sat up wanting to get off the bed to drink water when the man beside her sensitively opened his eyes, scaring her into a shiver.

"I, I wanted to drink some water." She pulled up the blanket to cover her body, instinctively moving aside.

Jack Yates pressed her down: "Lie back."

He pulled the blanket aside and got up, casually grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist.

Renee Winslow looked at his broad, taut back, the muscles were beautifully lined, full of strength.

And that powerful back had several clear scratch marks.

Her cheeks flushed, she hurriedly lowered her gaze.

There was drinking water in the bedroom, Jack Yates fetched her a cup of warm water, sitting by the bed to feed her.

Renee Winslow reached out to hold the cup: "Let me do it myself."

Jack Yates moved her hand away: "Open your mouth."

Renee Winslow didn’t dare refuse anymore, could only let him hold the cup as she drank the water.

After drinking, Renee Winslow wanted to go to the bathroom, but she wasn’t wearing anything, and the only towel was used by Jack Yates.

She looked at him: "Can I use the towel for a bit?"

Jack Yates was generous, directly handing her the towel.

Renee Winslow hurriedly turned her head, reached out to take the towel and tucked it into the blanket to wrap herself.

Jack Yates teasingly curled his lips: "Already used it, still can’t look?"

Renee Winslow wasn’t scared, just lacked the audacity.

But she dared not say that, worried it would upset Jack Yates; what if he misunderstood her to mean he is too shameless?

She didn’t speak, wrapped the towel tightly, turned over to get out of bed, was about to put on her slippers when suddenly Jack Yates picked her up.

"Ah!" She cried out in surprise, "I wanted to go to the bathroom, why are you carrying me?"

Jack Yates’ voice was already hoarse: "I’ll carry you."

Renee Winslow was frightened, waving her hands: "No, no, I can go myself."

After Jack Yates became amorous, he completely stopped holding back, showing his domineering desire for control in every aspect.

He said he would carry her, so he definitely would, Renee Winslow couldn’t stop him.

Renee Winslow leaned into Jack Yates’ chest, hearing the pattering sounds, she wanted to die.

Back in the bedroom, she pulled the blanket over her head.

Jack Yates hugged her from behind, big hands wrapping around her waist and pressing her against him, thin lips against her ear, speaking softly: "Once more."

Renee Winslow had no way to continue, but she had no right to refuse, so she chose silence, since whether she spoke or not, Jack Yates would proceed.

Yet this time, Jack Yates wanted her to respond, his long fingers firmly pressed: "Speak, willing or not?"

Renee Winslow suddenly tensed up, tremblingly replied: "Willing."

Thus, this time, it continued until daybreak.

-

By the afternoon, Renee Winslow had a fever.

Jack Yates finished an international meeting in the study, chatted with a few comrades in the group, seeing it was almost five o’clock, left the study for the second-floor master bedroom.

He pushed open the master bedroom door, finding Renee Winslow still asleep, delicate brows furrowed, her small face abnormally red.

Realizing something was wrong, he quickly approached, reaching out to touch, his hand recoiling from the heat.

The girl had a fever.

Jack Yates’ eyes flashed with panic, urgently clothed her, carefully checking, and was shocked to see it had worsened.

He dared not delay, hastily called Heather Forrester.

Heather Forrester, Simon Forrester’s aunt, was a well-known gynecology expert in Northcity.

Receiving the call, Heather Forrester rushed to Thatcher Manor.

After checking on Renee Winslow’s condition, Heather Forrester scolded: "Are you an animal?"

Jack Yates lowered his eyes, didn’t speak.

Heather Forrester prescribed antipyretics for Renee Winslow, along with some cleansing anti-inflammatory drugs, reminding Jack Yates: "Don’t touch her for at least half a month."

Jack Yates carried Renee Winslow back to bed, watching her weak, pale appearance, both heartache and anger, angry at his own stupidity.

However, in Renee Winslow’s eyes, Jack Yates’ gloomy face looked furious.

She thought he was angry because he couldn’t act for half a month, feeling increasingly heartbroken.

Indeed, this man only confined her for that purpose.

She lowered her eyes, forced down a bitter smile: "Doctors usually say it’s very serious, but actually it’s not. I’m very healthy, I’ll recover in a few days."

Jack Yates listened, knowing she misunderstood again, wanted to explain, but changed his words: "Don’t overthink, rest well."

In the following half month, Jack Yates slept separately from Renee Winslow, like proving his self-control, didn’t even kiss her.

Actually, Renee Winslow’s body recovered long ago, less than a week to full recovery.

Jack Yates didn’t want to act, she was secretly pleased, wouldn’t take initiative to entice him.

Afterward, Jack Yates restrained himself, not just in strength, even reducing frequency by half, at most thrice, sometimes just once.

He hid his emotions well; Renee Winslow couldn’t tell if Jack Yates was satisfied or suppressed his nature.

Despite all her doubts, she dared not ask a word.

Unless she didn’t want to live, asking would definitely anger Jack Yates.

While eating dinner, Renee Winslow kept her head down, eating silently.

She never asked about Jack Yates’ work or personal life.

Halfway through the meal, Jack Yates suddenly asked her: "Do you know how to swim?"

Renee Winslow didn’t understand why he suddenly asked this, froze for a moment, shook her head: "No, never learned."

Jack Yates set down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth: "A month until school starts, want to learn how to swim?"

Renee Winslow didn’t care about wanting or not, living at Jack Yates’ place felt like a bird with clipped wings, confined, no freedom, no mood for leisure activities, every day was torment.

After pondering, she replied indifferently: "I’m fine with whatever, it’s up to your arrangement. If you want me to learn, I’ll learn; if not, I won’t."

Jack Yates looked at her lifeless face, felt his chest blocked, suffocating, suddenly understanding The ancient King Moros’ beacon fire show.

It was an obsession, to possess her thoroughly, in all aspects.

He reached out to gently caress her face, his gaze greedily tracing her features: "I hope you understand, with me, you’re free."

Renee Winslow smiled: "Yes, I know."

It was freedom, but like Tathagath’s hand, the Monkey King could freely somersault in Tathagath’s palm, yet his lifetime couldn’t escape.

Jack Yates had power; to confine her was easier than Tathagath confining the Monkey King.

At least the Monkey King had the spirit to resist, could somersault, but she had no ability to resist.

Jack Yates looked at her obedient and gentle demeanor, eyes void of liveliness, feeling a sudden rush of irritation.

He stood up, suddenly picked her up, kissed her lips, quickly heading upstairs.