“Lost my mind?" Jarrod's voice was biting.

"We'll see just how mad I am when we meet Mr. Watts."

He then scooped up his suit from the floor, wrapped Nicole in it, and hoisted her over his shoulder.

Nicole fought back in vain, shouting, "Jarrod, you monster! Let me go!"

Ignoring her protests, Jarrod tossed her into the car and sped off to the hospital.

Coincidently, Roscoe was attending his shift in the emergency room, unaware of the impending storm.

Nicole, gripped by a sinking feeling, implored Jarrod again, “I've told you, there's nothing between Mr. Watts and me. I swear it."

Jarrod glanced at her agitated features and snapped, “Spare me your lies!"

The next moment, he yanked Nicole into the emergency room.

Bang! Nicole hit the floor.

Roscoe, alarmed by the commotion, rushed to assist Nicole, asking with concern, "Nicole, are you alright?"

“Mr. Watts, we barely know each other," Nicole whispered, withdrawing from his touch.

Roscoe reeled from her rejection, but the sight of Jarrod pieced everything together.

In a professional tone, he inquired, “How may I assist you, miss?"

Nicole clutched the suit to herself, revealing bruise-marred legs.

She remained silent.

Jarrod's voice was laced with malice as he turned to Roscoe.

"Can you treat a torn wound?"

Roscoe met Jarrod's taunting look with detachment.

"Of course."