Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 189

Rosemary had barely stood for a moment when the Night Club's manager hurried out to greet her, looking all flustered, and said, "Mrs. Templeton, you better come quick, Mr. Templeton's in a bad way."

Confused, she instinctively shot back, "What, he's dying?"

Manager: ...

Once inside the private room, she understood what the manager meant by "in a bad way."

Maxwell was slumped over a table littered with empty bottles, booze spilling everywhere, a complete mess, but he didn't seem to mind one bit. His jacket was tossed on the couch and he was down to a thin shirt, sleeves sloppily rolled up to his elbows, a few buttons undone at the collar revealing a good deal of chest.

He was holding his glass with a blank expression, eyes foggy, clinging to the last shred of sobriety, not quite passed out drunk.

Rosemary wasn't much of a drinker and couldn't quite tell what was so off about him; she even thought he looked pretty normal, especially compared to the guy next to him...

She turned her head to look at the other party involved.

Hogan was also holding a drink, but he wasn't sitting. Instead, he had one leg up on the coffee table, leaning forward to talk to Maxwell: "I swear, if I don't drink you under the table tonight until you're begging for mercy, I'll take your last name, let you make me your lapdog instead of treating me like a human being, and snitch like a little schoolgirl!"

"Come on, speak up. You think if you keep mum I'll let you off the hook? Back in the army, I could take on a whole squad by myself while you were still playing in the mud!"

"So, tell me, did you pull some dirty tricks behind my back?"

The seasoned manager enlightened Rosemary: "Look at Mr. Templeton's face. Whatever color the lights are, that's the color he turns, he's gone pale. If he keeps drinking like this, he'll end up with acute pancreatitis, and that's serious business!"

Seeing her look at Hogan, he added, "Mr. Abbott, on the other hand, is fine for now, just gets a little... wild when he's drunk."

Rosemary frowned, walked over, snatched the glass Maxwell was about to sip from, and emptied the contents into a nearby half-melted ice bucket. She then flung the cold water right at both of them.

Maxwell: ...

He was quiet before, and this didn't elicit much of a reaction from him either.

Hogan, however, got drenched to the bone and froze on the spot, before suddenly jumping up like a firecracker: "Damn it, who the hell doused me?!"

A piece of ice slid down his collar, chilling his spine all the way to his tailbone. The wet spot on his T-shirt slowly turned a pale red as the coagulated blood from his wound dissolved in the water.

But the lighting was too dim for Rosemary to notice.

Hogan turned around and saw Rosemary standing there, his irritation instantly turning into a smile: "Rosemary, what brings you here?"

Behind that smile was a dagger aimed straight at the manager standing behind her.

Rosemary gave Hogan a cool look. "Sobered up? What's this all about?"

"Just having a drink," he replied, slapping his hand on Maxwell's shoulder. "I've only just realized that Mr. Templeton and I share so much in common, we could talk for hours."

Maxwell unceremoniously shrugged off his hand. "Beat it."

Rosemary glared at Hogan. "Speak English."

She didn't want to be dragged here again and since she was already there, might as well play the peacemaker, albeit reluctantly.

Hogan gritted his teeth, his brotherly affection flipping to enemy mode in a second. "This son of a gun, jealous of my game, played dirty behind my back, sent someone to snitch to my mom and stir up trouble."

"What did he snitch about?"

Hogan: ...

Rosemary said, "Then just get a room upstairs and sleep it off."

Without waiting for Hogan, she just walked away.

She'd done her part, stopped the drinking; Archer's bodyguard surely couldn't keep her from leaving now, could he?

Hogan hurried after her. "Why's your heart gotta be so cold, girl?"

Behind them, Queena voiced her concern. "Mr. Templeton, I'll take you home."

...

Exiting the private room, the bright lights of the hallway exposed the pale red on Hogan's white T-shirt, leaving nothing hidden. Rosemary's brows furrowed. "Your shirt... are you hurt?"

The Abbott family runs a tight ship, with a long line of military folks. Probably because of that, they're pretty hardcore when it comes to raising kids.

Rosemary asked, "Did your dad hit you?"

"Oh, you bet. Maxwell's stupid rumors nearly got me beaten to death. I'm all bruised up."

Back in school, Rosemary had seen Hogan get whooped. A couple of lowlifes were always messing with the girls, and Hogan landed them in the hospital. It was quite a mess.

Frank Abbott grabbed a switch and whipped Hogan right in front of their parents as a way to apologize. That switch was so flexible, it drew blood with each strike. Those parents were smirking away until Frank called the cops on their sons for harassing the girls. They didn't get jail time but ended up with a record.

Rosemary still remembers the sight of Hogan's injuries.

Seeing him sway unsteadily, she reached out to steady him. "I'll take you to the hospital."