Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace (Dexter and Phoebe) novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12 

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 exclaimed. 

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 assailants 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 claimed. 

Following the officers, I was still shaking. 

As we left the alley, I saw Dexter’s car. 

He had come back, stepping out into the rain, looking disheveled. He moved as if to speak to me, but no words came. 

I stood there, a bitter laugh 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.” 

1/3 

12-14 

Chapter 12 

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 collapsed outside. 

The rain continued, and I shivered, curling up on the ground. 

“You…” Suddenly, an umbrella 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.