Chapter 270
He couldn’t settle until he saw his little girl safe inside her school building.
“Guess this necklace is worth something, huh?” But a few local thugs had snatched her backpack full of lunch money and the necklace she wore around her neck.
Phoebe cried, begging them to return the necklace. “It was my mom’s,” she sobbed.
Colin charged like a madman, but the thugs sped off on their motorcycles.
He watched his little girl cry and pick up her scattered books one by one from the ground.
“Don’t cry, Phoebe… please don’t cry.” He longed to go to her, to hold her.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
In the end, he couldn’t stand it. He hobbled over, reaching out to help her gather her books, but the gruesome, bloody wound on his hand frightened her.
He stood there numbly as his beloved girl ran away in terror.
Powerless and panicked, he hid his hand behind his back, opened his mouth to speak, then turned and fled.
That day, he found those punks.
Burning with fever, his body riddled with unhealed wounds, he fought to retrieve her necklace and her money.
He was no match for so many, and he felt pain too, but if he hadn’t been so reckless, gritting his teeth and landing punch after punch as though he wanted to kill the ringleader, they would never have returned the items.
Finally, he couldn’t hold on any longer and vomited blood, collapsing unconscious on the bloody concrete.
So cold.
He stared at the murky sky. “Phoebe… I’m so cold.”
Outside the school.
After class, Phoebe cautiously surveyed her surroundings. She feared those punks would bother her and bully her again. She walked with caution, trying to avoid them.
But as soon as she stepped out of the school gates, she smelled a strong scent of blood.
Fearfully, she looked up into Colin’s deep eyes.
Perhaps afraid of scaring her, Colin wore gloves as he handed her the necklace and
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money, then turned and walked away.
Phoebe opened her mouth but ultimately said nothing.
Phoebe left, heading home.
To another man’s house.
To forget him completely, to fall in love with someone else.
He hid in an alley, enduring the pain as he slowly removed his gloves with his teeth.
His hand was severely burnt; how could he wear gloves…
Every time he took them off, it was like peeling away a layer of his skin.
But he didn’t want to frighten his Phoebe.
“Hey Phoebe, walk home with us?”
That day, Phoebe had friends to walk home with.
“It’s been so quiet around the school lately; those punks are nowhere to be seen. Weird, huh?”
Phoebe stood at the mouth of the alley, glancing back. She didn’t know what she was looking for, what she wanted to see.
“Phoebe, those bullies are gone. Karma’s got a way of sorting things out.”
Phoebe smiled faintly, looking toward the corner.
In that corner, Colin was hidden, lurking in the shadows, protecting his Phoebe.
“Touch her again… and you’re dead.” Colin’s voice was hoarse as he pinned a punk under
his foot.
The punks fled, gathering a crowd to corner Colin.
At last, in the place where Phoebe appeared, they caught Colin.
“There’s a fight down there, Phoebe; let’s get out of here. It’s scary.”
“Phoebe! Someone’s getting killed; we need to go.”
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