I curled up and hugged my head, too scared to make a sound or look up.
The stench of blood and screams echoed through the alley as the rain poured down heavily, the
darkness obliterating any chance of seeing the attacker’s face.
All I knew was that he was tall and ruthless, his blows meant to kill.
The sound of sirens brought my heart back from my throat.
“Police!” they eximed.
By the time the officers arrived, the tall shadow that had been dealing out violence stumbled away,
leaving nothing but a pool of blood that confirmed he was real, not a figment of my imagination.
“Who did this?” one cop asked.
I stayed silent, still huddled in the corner.
“Some maniac. Aren’t you cops supposed to catch him?!” the victim railed.
The cop approached me, “Did you see who did this? Which way did the culprit go?”
Numbly, I shook my head. Even if I had seen, I wouldn’t tell. These men deserved it.
“They… they were going to assault me,” I croaked out.
The officer frowned, “Take everyone in!”
“Christ, she was dressed like that and we thought she was a hooker,” one of the assants spat out in
an attempt to smear my name.
Trembling, I struggled to my feet, clutching myself, “I’m not…”
“Let’s go to the station!” the police imed.
Following the officers, I was still shaking.
As we left the alley, I saw Dexter’s car.
He hade back, stepping out into the rain, looking disheveled. He moved as if to speak to me, but
no words came.
I stood there, a bitterugh escaping me. “Dexter, I don’t love you anymore.”
Not anymore. The love and this supposed gratitude had left me battered and bruised.
“Let me go, please. I need to let myself go,” I begged, my voice choked with tears.
I knew his rush wasn’t out of concern for me; he couldn’t face his mother if I died here.
Wrapped in the officer’s jacket, I forced a smile at him with an ashen look, “Dexter, I can’t love you
anymore.”
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He stood frozen, not following. Probably disgusted by the shame I brought.
My foot was injured and dripped blood to the ground. I limped into the squad car, feeling like a soulless
husk.
At the station, I didn’t mention the man who had beaten the other.
He was like a devil of the night, appearing and vanishing without a trace.
After giving my statement, I was allowed to leave. My foot numb with pain; I stumbled to the precinct’s
door and copsed outside.
The rain continued, and I shivered, curling up on the ground.
“You…” Suddenly, an umbre was held over me.
I looked up to see an officer.
“I noticed your foot’s hurt, and I’m heading to the hospital. I can take you.”
Seeing my wariness, he spoke again, “I’m a Detective, Robin Lancaster. There’s no need to be
scared.”
Nodding cautiously, I stood and eyed his car.
“I’m… dirty,” I said, noting the blood.
Robin handed me some napkins, “It’s fine. I’ll get my car washed tomorrow.”
“Thank you…” I muttered, feeling uneasy but still getting into the car.
Because I didn’t know where else to go.
“What were you doing in Nocturne Club at this hour? Learn from this! You’re lucky nothing worse
happened,” Robin scolded on the way to the hospital. “It’s been rough theretely, with frequent
homicides.”
“Thank you.”
N?velDrama.Org owns all content.
“Where’s your family?” he asked.
I shook my head, “Gone. My parents are dead.”
I had no one left.
Robin’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, “That’s no excuse to stray. There are plenty of legal ways
to make money. Don’t get tangled up in uwful stuff.”
He thought I was a fallen woman. I didn’t correct him. I got no difference from a fallen
woman.
After my parents died, they left me with little but debts in thepany, and it was the Fitzgeralds who
settled my ounts..
My life, too, was saved by Dexter.
The moment the Fitzgerald family took me in, I lost myself.
“Phoebe, you’re under the Fitzgeralds‘ roof, so you belong to me even in death, got it?” Dexter had
warned me more than once. His touch was my penance, paying back the Fitzgeralds‘ kindness without
any love involved.
He made it clear not to expect marriage.