Dared Home

Chapter 4

(Adams POV)

Mina met her sister’s gaze in the critical care unit, anxiously anticipating for Adams's entry while listening to Safiya’s air-filled, suffering voice, which had somehow established a new hold on hope within her.

Mina was tense with different thoughts and feelings, and her sister noticed that, saying, "Mina, don't cry. I'm still here."

The line echoed through Mina's head, and every time her sister repeated it, it felt full of light, yet tragically torn apart.

She caught her sister’s eyes, sparkling with drugs, bright and incisive, and the marginal close feeling of her hand.

Mina ought to have felt as airy as a feather, seated on a cloud of relief when she realized her sister was actually going to be fine. Instead, she simply sank down into the unforgivable plastic seat by the sister's bed, utterly exhausted.

The adrenaline that had been holding her together throughout the long day was gone. She shivered with a desperate, refined shaking—evidence of the fear and the sleeping urge she suffered.

Adams was a few steps away, walking towards the sickbed. His bulky and squat form was hilariously out of place in that narrow, shabby chamber.

He walked in quietly without anyone noticing his entry, his arms loosely folded over his chest, dropping them when he got behind Mina. His eyes were gawking at Mina's sister, who was also looking at the strange face.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Mina noticed and suddenly turned, seeing Adams standing firmly behind her.

A stranger with strange words. "Peace be upon you. How are you?" Adams gently said to Mina's sister.

She exhaustedly responded, "Hello, I'm fine. Thank you."

Adams nodded, and it was a gentle, continuous silence that offered the space to be without pressure.

Mina clenched her chillingly wet palms and tried to come up with words to bridge the gap. Then, she spoke, "I thought you were behind us when I entered with the nurse. What happened? Why were you away?" She turned around to Adams.

"I was talking to someone on the phone," Adams responded.

"I do not know how to thank you, whether in raw honesty, in action, or in tears. But I profusely and honestly appreciate your kindness." She said honestly.

"You've thanked me enough dear, and there's no need repeating it," he replied in a low, warm voice.

"But I do, and I do, and I will always do. Appreciate, and I have to keep it up." She looked deep into his eyes, and he saw the hard reality in what she said.

"You saved my sister's life. Today. In this place. And without you, I... I would have lost her. And maybe, there wouldn't be a need or a way to thank you or anyone." She blinked.

His eyes softened; the lines of sternness was around his mouth and relaxed. "You don't owe me anything, Mina. Not gratitude. Not debt." He hesitated, and his eyes appeared to stare into her tired soul. "Just... let her heal. Focus on that. That's thanks enough."

The swelling in her throat grew to almost a painful size in wonder. "He is so definitive, he has nothing to lose giving out millions to a stranger, he had nothing to lose by stepping into the mess of another person and redressing their situation." She meditated.

This contradicted her worldview and logic. "Who is this man?" Sighed.

Drawing up her manliness, she put the question which had been floating in her thoughts throughout the period, and which was more personal than any thanks. "But, Sir. Why are you still here?"

His black eyebrows were drawn up a little, and he looked surprised. "Should I have left you here alone after paying the bills while you were in that condition with nobody else here with you? Should I?"

"You don't know me as much, sir, you didn't care or try to know me before this help." The words lay between each other.

"You might have simply paid the bill and walked off, but you chose to stand by me. Your part was done. But you're still here. Waiting to see us fine. You are with me. This act of kindness, even if it comes with a price, it deserves it. Thank you."

And a shadow flashed across his face, something dark in his eyes. Her mere question seemed to have reached a forgotten place, and he turned his head away. A moment later, he responded, "I did this not for a price, dearie."

He breathed in and continued, "I will never forgive myself, because sometimes...." His voice dropped and got a rough sound, "It is the one thing that you never forgive yourself. Leaving without helping."

Mina did not really know and understand, not the history of it and what he was trying to say. But the tone of his voice shocked any other inquiry.

Maybe there was a story there—one of those old hurtful things—and she could just feel that it was not hers to press. And Not yet at the time.

The silence that followed was long, and no longer heavy and awkward. It was warm. It was, almost, for the first time.

At last, Adams cleared his throat and returned to the practical. "Let me give you my number." He extracted his phone from his pocket. "In case... anything happens or if the hospital requires a fast agreement in payment. Let me know."

Her heart beat rattled against her ribs. His number. It was not just digits, but an extension between their different lives and a tie that would remain after this sterile and crisis-ridden moment.

She looked at her old phone with a broken screen, and it felt very strange and uncomfortable to open it.

He gave out the digits in that low voice, and she keyed them in guardedly, storing the contact with Adams Dared.

The act felt significant. Something in her changed, the slightest mood swing, but all the same—a bond was being formed.

Their fingers touched each other when she extended her phone to him. Only a brief touch, skin on skin, but a shiver ran up her arm, a shock of consciousness, quite new.

His name was displayed on her screen as he rang her phone with a call, the vibration verifying the new connection. "Now you can reach me. Day or night. For anything."

Mina got her tongue in knots and held the phone as a talisman. "That's... more than I could otherwise ask."

He smiled faintly, but hardly. "Trust isn't built in a day. I know that. But today you confided to me the life of your sister. That... that means something great to me."

His words touched her heart and comforted her beside her beating heart. "Trust. It was a dangerous word, which I had been taught to be wary of." She meditated.

"You need to take a sleep now." His voice was a little harsh as he disturbed the pleasant silence. "You have experienced too much of a day. Your body needs to shut down for a rest."

She shook her head, obstinacy creeping to her jaw. "I can't. Not until you take the rest. You've been with me throughout the day, you need to rest. Also my mind is still full of Safiya, as she's not fully recovered, I will keep my eyes open on her, until she's truly stable."

Her smile was a weary, cynical one that screwed him up.

The distance between them came within reach, like that, but not with romance, not as deep yet, but with something more subdued, of purer essence, and likely nearer to the root. Or a beginning.

As he was about to take his leave, a sudden buzz spoiled their weakened peace. Her phone buzzed on her leg, and Mina jumped, freaking out. She looked at the screen, and her face turned pale, leaving her terrified again.

Her hands were shaky, and she immediately declined the call.

Her eyes and face became wide with the fear that he noticed—the fear of a hunter that is surrounded by Prides.