Not One, But Two!

Chapter 75

Abigail's heart leaped to her throat. Without wasting another second, she unclipped her seatbelt and hurtled down from the car.

Worried that she might be overreacting, Jonathan cried out, "Abbie, don't go over there! What if this is all part of a syndicate's plan?"

Abigail had half the mind to sew his lips together with needle and thread. She couldn't fathom why he would think a syndicate was involved in this when the person had been hit and sent flying across the street. No syndicate would be this dedicated to their work!

Decidedly ignoring him, she hastened over to the still figure lying in the middle of the road to inspect the damage. She had run into a girl who looked to be in her twenties. The impact must have been strong because it knocked her out entirely, and blood was pooling beneath her unmoving figure. Everyone who had gathered to inspect the scene of the accident couldn't hide their astonishment at this.

Abigail quickly assessed the girl's injuries and whipped out her phone to call the police, then dialed 911. When she was done, she crouched down and began to administer emergency first-aid to the girl.

When Jonathan saw this, he hurried to stop her. "Abbie, listen to me: drive away from here and leave the rest to me, okay? I'll handle this, so don't worry. The girl is decked out in clothes from the bargain bin, which means she isn't someone important. I'll just quiet her with a bit of money when she comes to. If we get her to the hospital, then you'll have plenty more problems to deal with."

"Shut up!" Abigail was outraged as she growled at the prattling man.

Jonathan gulped, and when he eyed Abigail, he suddenly realized just how different she had become. When they were dating back in the day, she had been demure, and she went along with whatever he said. And now, she had grown into a formidable person, and she didn't even spare him a kind look.

But for some reason, he found himself falling harder for Abigail when she was like this. "I'm just looking out for you, Abbie," he said, sounding wounded.

"If you don't stop talking, then get out of my face! Scram!" Abigail carried on with the first aid, and it didn't take long before the ambulance's sirens and the police cruiser resounded down the street. NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

The police arrived first. "What happened?"

Abigail was still doing CPR as she answered curtly, "A car accident; I'm the one at fault." Her clothes and hands were stained with fresh blood, but she didn't care at all. The only thing that mattered to her was to save the girl.

She stayed on the ground with her knees pressed into the tarmac while she tirelessly administered the emergency first-aid to the victim.

When the ambulance finally pulled up, and the paramedics came down, the girl was whisked onto a trolley bed and hoisted into the idling car.

Abigail turned to address the paramedics, stating, "There might be intracranial bleeding, so run a CT scan as soon as possible."

"Thank you," the paramedics said with a nod of acknowledgment, having seen the professional way she administered first-aid.

After the ambulance sped off with the girl, Jonathan jogged over and held out a bottle of water to Abigail.

However, she did not take the bottle and addressed the police instead, "I was distracted while driving, and I didn't brake on time. The accident was entirely my fault. Do you need to take my statement?"

The police nodded. "Yes, we'll need you to come down to the station with us."

Before she went with them, she took her phone and called the insurance company.

Jonathan, on the other hand, panicked when he saw that the police were going to take Abigail to their cruiser. He rushed to stop them, saying, "Officer, she's a friend of mine. The whole thing isn't like what it seems. See, the thing is—"

"Jonathan," Abigail bit out his name and cut him off so frigidly that he couldn't help gaping at her.

"Huh?"

"Stay here and wait for the agent from the insurance company to arrive."

"Oh, okay." He was clearly so intimidated by her that he nodded frantically to appease her.

It wasn't until after she had left with the police that he snapped out of his daze and made to stop her, but he realized that someone had to be at the scene until the insurance company representatives arrived.

At the thought of this, he reluctantly called Greg. "Hey, Uncle Greg, Abbie got into an accident, and the police took her away."

On the other line, Greg's fist clenched. "Is she hurt?"

"N-No, but she ran someone down with her car. The girl who got knocked seemed pretty badly injured, but don't worry, I'll take care of it. I was just wondering if you could give the police station a call and

have them go easy on Abbie? It's not a nice place for a delicate girl like her to be in; she might be frightened."

Greg was a little surprised by Jonathan's choice of words. Abigail? Frightened? Hah! Who would have thought that the woman knew fear at all?

He hummed plainly in response and ended the call. Grabbing his coat, he announced to the executives whom he was having a meeting with, "Stop the meeting; I have somewhere I need to be right now. We'll pick up where we left off after I come back." Then, he hurried out of the conference room without further elaboration.

Greg did not drop by the police station where Abigail was being interrogated, and instead headed to the hospital. "Where's the girl who got hit by a car?" he asked as soon as he stopped at the front desk, and the nurse manning the counter immediately showed him the way.

The girl had suffered intracranial bleeding following the crash, and she was currently undergoing the life-saving surgical procedure. For the time being, the hospital couldn't get hold of her family.

Upon learning all these, Greg paid the bill for her surgery and subsequent hospitalization, then left his phone number as contact. After he had settled all this, he drove over to the police station.

Meanwhile, Abigail had received feedback from the insurance company right after she had given her statement to the police. It was determined that she was not entirely at fault, seeing as the girl had cycled out to the road without warning, which was tantamount to reckless maneuvering. As such, Abigail was only unlucky to start the car and knocked her down by accident.

The police finalized their notes and asked Abigail to go back and await further information. They still needed to see if the girl would wake up.

Nodding, Abigail lamented over her poor luck. She was beginning to think that Harrion was hell-bent on making life difficult for her. Not a single good thing had happened to her since her return.

She left the police station, but she had only just walked out the door when she saw Greg leaning against his car by the entrance with a cigarette clasped between his fingers.

She had to admit that he was handsome. There was an insouciant and roguish edge to him that only added to his charm, though there was no denying his elegance. It was strange how a person could have such contradictory traits, but they suited him and gave him personality.

Smoke skeins unfurled from the cigarette between his fingers into the air. He didn't take a drag or anything, just held onto the cigarette with a blank look on his face. There was no telling what was on his mind. When he saw Abigail, he threw the cigarette to the ground and snuffed it out with his foot.

"Come on. I'll drop you home."

"Sorry for wrecking your car. I'll transfer the money for the repairs to you later."

This was the way it had always been between them, and he was already used to having her list out everything she owed him.

As such, he hummed in response and said, "I'll send you the bill after this. There are still a few more cars in my garage; you could pick out whichever you like."

"It's fine." She declined his offer and made her intentions, which had been long conceived, clear by saying, "I'll go to a dealer and pick out a car for myself."

"Suit yourself." Greg opened the door to the passenger seat for her, and she ducked to get into the car unaffectedly.

"Could you drop me off at the hospital? I want to make sure the girl is doing okay."

"I already paid for her surgery and hospitalization, and she's still in the operation theater as we speak. You're the one who hit her, so maybe you shouldn't intervene in the procedure. Your skills are great, I know, but there's no need for you to overcompensate. Also, I had someone compile information on the girl, and the docket is in the backseat. Go through it when you're home later. Apparently, she's an orphan, and she has no family. She also just graduated from college and is looking for a job." As he said this, he started the car and pulled out of the police station.

He had done so much in such a short time. It was clear to see that he didn't just sit by and do nothing while she was dealing with the aftermath of the accident.

Abigail was a little moved by his efforts, but she hid it well as she said perfunctorily, "Thanks."

"Don't sweat it." He had a steady grip on the steering wheel as he added, "There's a new jacket in the backseat. I wasn't sure if you'd like it, but make do with it for now, or you'll give people a heart attack with your current get-up. By the way, Allie wants honey-glazed chicken tonight, so I'm going to need you to come with me to the supermarket to pick out the ingredients; I don't know what I'm supposed to get."

Abigail was a little surprised by this. She almost instinctively asked him where the nanny was, because surely there was no need for him to become Alissa's personal chef. That's a lot of dedication for such a menial task, she thought.

However, she refrained from asking in the end and merely nodded in agreement. She reached for the jacket in the backseat and pulled it out of the bag. It was a white blazer that matched the shirt she was wearing perfectly.

Without thinking too much of it, she shrugged off the bloodstained jacket she was wearing and shoved it into the paper bag, then pulled on the new jacket.

The new jacket fit her frame perfectly, and she had to give it to Greg for having such good taste, not to mention a good eye.

"I'll transfer you the money for the jacket when we get home," she said.

He didn't bother making a reply to this. It wasn't as if a response on his part would dissuade her from paying him back.

They pulled up outside the supermarket, and he parked his car. Then, they walked into the supermarket together.

This was the first time Greg had ever been in a supermarket. When he saw how rowdy it was, he started to have second thoughts. Frowning, he wondered if he had a loose screw for even suggesting to come here with Abigail in the first place.

But Abigail seemed unaffected by the crowd as she grabbed a basket and made her way to the poultry section.

Greg tailed after her slowly.

He watched as she bent over to pick out chicken parts from the vast selection of poultry, and he became suddenly entranced. He had always known she had a stunning figure, but from this distance and angle, he thought he might be viewing a work of art.

Unbidden, heat coursed through his body, and he quickly averted his gaze. He was never an impulsive man, but Abigail seemed to have a knack for triggering his most primal urges whenever she was around him. What kind of sweet torture is this?

He let out a dry cough to hide his momentary loss of composure.

Abigail paid no attention to him, and after picking out the chicken, she said quietly, "Let's go get some mushrooms. Allie loves them."

"Okay."

Greg followed her all the way to the produce section, and as he walked down the aisles, the women who passed by him were instantly attracted by his fine looks. There were even some of them who made to approach him, but they stopped when they saw the intimidating gleam in his eyes.

Abigail sighed inwardly. Bringing Greg along with her on a grocery run was turning out to be a bad idea. He was like a walking vial of testosterone, and his natural charisma drew others close to him like moths to a flame. There's no getting out of this now, she thought with mute despair.

She picked out what she needed and hurried to the checkout counter. She had to get out of here, or she would likely die of frustration from having a pack of women following them wherever they went.

Presently, when Greg saw the long line ahead of them at the checkout counter, his brows knitted tightly together. "Can't we just pay and leave without having to queue up?"

"Nope," Abigail answered curtly.

Suddenly, he walked away from her and headed for the customer service counter.

She had to sympathize with the man. He had probably never stepped foot in a grocery store before, much less waited in line just to pay for a couple of things. She thought it was better for him to leave anyway, and the air around her suddenly felt lighter in his absence.

She had only just thought of this when she heard Greg's voice booming over the tannoy at the customer service counter. "Those of you who are waiting in line before my wife, I'll give each of you five hundred if you let her check out first! And I'm talking about cash here!"

As soon as she heard this, Abigail froze. What is this idiot thinking? There are at least ten people waiting in front of me. To pay each of them five hundred would total up to five thousand! Why would anyone fork out five thousand to get rid of a line, just so I could pay for stuff that won't even cost me more than two hundred? Has this man no sense of economic scales, or is he just stupid?

She was so outraged that she didn't even realize Greg had called her his wife over the PA system.