Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

I glanced around; the crowd was thick, and so was the number of phones recording the scene.

This was bad.

“Colin, you really went overboard,” I said, a bit ticked off as I grabbed Caleb’s arm. “We’re in public, for heaven’s sake. The guy was just hogging seats. Did you really need to go all Rambo on him?”

Suddenly, I remembered my first day waking up in Foebe’s body; he was ready to throttle me just for misplacing his bracelet.

The guy… he’s a nutcase, prone to going zero to sixty in a heartbeat.

“Apologize to the man!” I urged Caleb, worried he’d end up in an asylum if he kept this up. Getting him to say sorry was the least we could do.

Caleb looked down, somewhat sheepishly, picked up the man’s phone, and clammed up.

“Give his phone back!” I wondered what on earth was going through his head.

Dealing with someone who’s off their rocker is enough to drive anyone insane.

“Sir, next stop; I’m taking you to the hospital,” I said, trying to calm the man down.

But the guy, cradling his wrist in pain, stopped his ranting and didn’t even dare ask for his phone back.

sighed. It looked like we were heading to the police station, whether we liked it or not.

“Miss, don’t be hard on him. He didn’t do anything wrong. That man was harassing us first. He was just stepping in to help,” the little girl defended Caleb earnestly.

“He’s…” I wanted to blurt out that he was mentally ill, but that would just crush his ego in public. So I bit my tongue and said instead, “Even so, there’s no need to go all out like that.”

Colin remained silent, offering no explanation.

When the train reached the station, the cops boarded.

“No… I’m not pressing charges. Just give me my phone and let me leave,” the man, now sweating with pain, suddenly didn’t want to get the police involved anymore. He just wanted his phone so he could bolt.

I eyed the man suspiciously, then glanced at Caleb, who’d been trailing behind me with a look of injured innocence.

Caleb didn’t return the phone to the man but handed it to the cops instead. “He’s been secretly filming.”

The cops were taken aback, ordering the man to unlock his phone. He refused.

That’s when it hit me, why he’d been hogging three seats, why he kept eyeing the girl in the floral spaghetti strap dress.

He’d been taking upskirt photos of the girl, claiming a trio of seats to avoid getting caught!

The police forced the man to unlock his phone, and when they opened the gallery, they found over a thousand photos–all secretly taken on the subway, shots up skirts, of cleavage…

The girl in the spaghetti straps dress took one look, screamed in horror, clutched at her dress, and gave the man a kick. “Officer, he’s a pervert! I’m pressing charges!” NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.

I stared at Caleb, suddenly feeling guilty. I had misunderstood him.

Caleb said nothing, just kept his head down.

The girl kept up a stream of hero–worship toward Caleb all the way to the police station, but he didn’t respond to her chatter.

“I admit to filming secretly; that was wrong. But he hit me, and I’m going to sue him for my broken wrist,” the sleazy man boasted at the station, figuring that since he was caught red–handed, he might as well not let Caleb off the hook.

“My husband acted in defense of justice, stopping this behavior in its tracks. Besides, the provocation started with him,” I stepped in front of Caleb, ready to defend him.

A flicker of light seemed to pass through Caleb’s eyes, which had been filled with dejection. He kept his gaze on me, apparently pleased that I was sticking up for him.

“I’m Caleb’s assistant,” Eric announced, arriving with Sea City’s finest lawyer, ready for another rescue mission.

I breathed a sigh of relief; with them here, Caleb was sure to be okay.

*

But Eric just pulled out a piece of laminated paper and handed it to the police without much fuss.

Even the loudmouthed creep quieted down, his eyes widening with fear..

It was Caleb’s mental disability certificate.