Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

“It’s pouring, you know. Ever heard of taking shelter?” I dashed over to the bench, grabbed him by the arm, and hustled him toward the mall to escape the rain.

“You told me to stay… I’d wait forever,” he said, his gaze locking onto mine with unsettling intensity.

A sudden pang of headache struck me, fierce and unbidden.

That moment felt eerily familiar, as though dredged up from a sea of lost memories.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Phoebe?” His voice trembled with a nervous edge as if he was desperate for affirmation.

The drizzle had plastered his hair to his forehead, that face of his devilishly enchanting.

“Put your shoes on,” I muttered, avoiding his gaze. This man had the allure of a siren.

He must have a talent for beguiling people’s hearts; that’s probably why even the cops couldn’t peg him as a killer.

I had Colin sit on the bench as I tended to a cut on his foot, wrapping it carefully in gauze before slipping on his socks and shoes.

He leaned against the backrest, watching me with the obedience of a well–trained hound.

I found myself curious about who he really was beneath it all.

“Did Samuel give you any trouble when he woke up?” I asked, looking up.

He nodded, his eyes brimming with a pitiful look, stretching out his arm to reveal a bruise on his forearm, the telltale sign of defensive wounds.

“That lunatic…” I hissed under my breath, inspecting the bruise. “We need to get you to al hospital.”

Colin shook his head, his hand catching mine in a firm grip,

My instinct was to pull away, but he held on tight. His fingertips were cool, yet the touch sent a strange tingle through my skin. “Let go,” I insisted.

He didn’t respond, just gripped my wrist even tighter.

Just as I was about to snap at him, he whispered, “It hurts…”

I paused, my irritation fizzling out as I decided to play along for a moment to see what game he was playing. “You don’t look like you’re in any pain to me!”

If his arm was really broken, he wouldn’t have the strength to hold onto me..

After a long stare, he finally released my hand. “Don’t leave me, don’t lie to me again.”

I crouched before him, momentarily at a loss for words.

16:12

“Well, if it isn’t a small world after all. Looks like this nutjob escaped from the Langley estate all by himself today.”

That voice could only belong to one of Dexter’s cronies, Kyle. Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I turned around with a stony expression to find Kyle with a woman on his arm, presumably shopping. Just my luck to run into them.

He must have already called Dexter. After Melody’s spectacle earlier, Dexter would be convinced Colin was behind it, blindly trusting Melody and itching to give Colin a piece of his mind.

A chill washed over Colin’s eyes, venomous like a cobra primed to strike, as he stood and positioned me behind him protectively.

“Looks like even the fools have chicks these days,” Kyle sneered, clutching the woman in his arms. “Bad luck running into me. I don’t care if you’re playing dumb or truly lost it…”

Kyle wouldn’t dare approach; he could only make empty threats from a safe distance, especially since Colin had nearly beaten him to a pulp once before.

Besides, with Colin being the prime suspect in a series of grisly crimes, Kyle’s bravado had clear limits.

“In this day and age, even vermin can talk?” I shot back with a sarcastic chuckle, then turned to Colin. “Since you’re ‘mentally unstable,‘ why not take this chance to off him?”

Kyle’s face drained of color, and he instinctively stepped back, using the woman as a shield.

Colin glanced at me, deadly serious. “Alright!” His gaze then shifted to Kyle, icy and fierce, like a predator eyeing its prey, sending shivers down your spine.

Kyle’s legs trembled. *You, you crazy woman… What are you saying?”