The blast threw them forward. Mila felt the heat on her back before she felt the pain. She hit the asphalt hard, her palms scraping against the rough surface. For a moment, there was only ringing in her ears.
Rain poured down mercilessly. Her heart pounded wildly.
'Am I still alive?' she questioned herself, disoriented.
She forced herself to breathe. She inhaled and exhaled quite a few times. Then she turned her head to the stranger beside her.
He wasn't moving. Blood mixed with the rainwater, streaming down his temple.
Mila wasn't sure if he was breathing. "No, no, no…You can't die."
She crawled toward him. Her rain-soaked hair plastered to her face. She pressed her trembling fingers against the side of his neck. She let out a sigh of relief.
"Strong pulse. It's good…"
Her entire body trembled – not from cold, but from what had just happened. She had nearly escaped death. And she had saved this stranger. She swallowed her and forced herself to focus.
"Head injury, possible concussion," she mumbled as she examined him. "Bruised ribs, lacerations on his arm. I need to take him to the hospital."
His eyelids fluttered open and then closed. "No hospital," he muttered lowly.
Mila frowned. "You had an accident and barely survived an explosion."
"No hospital," he repeated, his hand gripping her wrist.
The strength in his hold startled her. "You have a head injury. You might have internal bleeding. Thorough check up is a must."
"I'm fine," he said through his gritted teeth.
"You are anything but fine, okay?" she countered. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
"No," he said, his voice firmer this time.
"Why?" She couldn't understand why he was refusing to get treatment at the hospital.
He didn't answer instantly, his jaw tightening. "I just can't."
She exhaled in resignation. "Look, if you aren't honest with me, I can't help you."
"That accident," he breathed, "it's not just an accident. Someone tried to kill me." He looked at her, his eyes sharp and piercing. "I can't go to the hospital."
Rain lashed harder. Mila stared at him for a good minute, her mind reeling. Then she looked around. She didn't know this man, and his words smelled of danger.
She hesitated over whether to leave him there alone. But she knew one thing for sure. If she left him alone, he would die. As a doctor, she couldn't turn away.
She groaned inwardly.
"Okay, fine…I will take you to my apartment." She dragged him up and took him to her car.
Half an hour later…
Getting him out of the car and leading him to the elevator had been a struggle. He was tall, with broad shoulders, solid muscles under his soaked fabric. Every time he leaned on her, she could barely manage to hold her balance. He was not just heavy, but powerful.
"We are almost there," she said as the elevator door closed.
Inside her apartment, she guided him to the sofa.
"Don't move," she instructed.
He slightly opened his eyes and scanned the unfamiliar room as she walked away in a hurry. Moments later, she returned with a first aid kit.
"Relax. I'll tend to your wounds." She knelt in front of him. "The antiseptic might burn a little, but endure it."
As she carefully cut away his blood-soaked shirt, his torso was revealed. She gasped involuntarily.
'He is hot.' This thought emerged in her mind. She couldn't stop herself from watching him.
Defined chest, sculpted shoulders, a strong abdomen that tightened slightly when he inhaled.
Mila's mind raced. She deliberately ran her fingers down softly on his six-pack abs while she cleaned his wounds.
'He is so perfect,' she whispered in her head.
Rainwater traced down the ridges of his muscles. This sight stirred something wild inside her.
'Focus, Mila,' she scolded herself.
Heat flushed her cheeks. How could she have improper thoughts about an injured man who was barely conscious?
She pressed sterile gauze to a cut near his ribs. Her fingers brushed against his skin. It was warm, firm. Her fingertips lingered longer than necessary.
'What are you doing?' a voice screamed inside her head, snapping her out of her trance.
She quickly withdrew her hand and refocused on tending to his wounds.
"Hiss…"
When she put antiseptic on a cut on his temple, he winced.
"Sorry," she said softly.
He looked at her with half-opened eyes as she stitched the deep cut on his arm. Her movement was professional.
"You are a doctor?" he asked, his voice deep.
"Yes."
"Lucky me."
She finished bandaging and looked up at him. At the time, she noticed more details – sharp jawline, pointed nose, faint stubble. He was definitely handsome, a kind of man women desired.
"What's your name?" she asked nostalgically.
He stiffened, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. It lasted only for a second.
"My name?" He squeezed his eyes, fingers pressing against his forehead. "What is my name? I-I don't remember."
Mila paused, confused and alarmed at the same time. "Wait, you don't remember your name."
"I…" He pressed his temples harder. "I don't know."
Mila hesitated over whether to believe him or not. "That's strange." She folded her arms. "You were very clear about one thing. You refused to go to the hospital. You said someone was trying to kill you."
The doubts in her mind only grew. She sized him up. "How could you not remember anything now?"
Hearing the suspicion in her tone, he stilled. He half-opened his eyes, just to check her expression. Then he whimpered, shutting his eyes tight.
"I remember driving fast. Someone was behind me. And then…Ugh…My head hurts."
Mila went rigid, eyes widening. "How bad?"
"It feels like something is splitting it open." He sucked a sharp breath.
Her heartbeat spiked.
'Sudden worsening headache. Maybe he is suffering from a subdural hematoma,' she suspected. 'That explains this memory loss.'
"We are going to the hospital," Mila said urgently.
"No." His response came too fast, catching her off guard.
It made her raise her eyebrow. "Even in this condition, you are refusing to go to the hospital. Do you understand how serious this could be? You could have a brain bleed."
"I can't go," he said adamantly.
Mila threw her arms in the air, irritated. "You may die if you don't get proper treatment."
"I'll die anyway if I go to the hospital," he reasoned.
"What?" Befuddled, she scowled at him.
"If someone is trying to kill me, they will come the moment they know I am at the hospital," he explained. "I can't let anyone find out my whereabouts. Please…"
He cast her a pleading look. "Let me stay here until I remember who I am."