Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

“Don’t worry, they’re just a bunch of nobodies,” Eric said with an air of nonchalance.

Colin was still feeling wronged, clutching my hand, deliberately showing me his hand that was cut when he smashed the window. “Phoebe… it hurts.”

I glanced at the wound; it was bleeding, but it was minor compared to the self–inflicted injuries he’d had before.

“Grab the first aid kit.” I took his hand and sat on the couch, carefully tending to his wound.

Colin suddenly leaned in close, sniffing the air around me, his eyes darkening with a fleeting. shadow of anger. “Phoebe… you’ve seen Dexter.”

I stared at Colin, startled. How did he know?

“His scent… it’s off–putting,” Colin frowned.

I sniffed myself, looking back at Colin.

Did he have a dog’s nose or something? It was so sensitive. Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“He…”

Before I could explain, he suddenly pressed my head down and kissed me.

I panicked, trying to push him away. Eric and the others were still here.

Eric, ever so composed, turned and led everyone out, making sure to close the door behind

him.

I pushed back, to no avail, his kiss making it hard to breathe.

This was hardly a kiss; it felt deliberate, like a punishment, leaving me no room to catch my breath.

“Colin…” I called out his name nervously, feeling a vague sense of fear.

His mood was off, and it was unsettling.

“Caleb!” Unable to push him away, my irritation flared and I called him by Caleb..

Ignoring his bleeding hand, he stood up, lifting me in his arms, heading upstairs.

“Caleb!” I didn’t dare to struggle too much, afraid I might fall. “I just bumped into him on the road; it’s not like I wanted to see him. He’s like a bad penny, always turning up.”

I tried to explain, but his mood remained ominously low.

This man was mercurial by nature, and his current demeanor… it frightened me.

“Caleb… what are you planning to do?” The fear of triggering him and losing control loomed

over me.

It was like Dexter said: living with a madman, you never know when he might snap.

Colin didn’t respond, just carried me into the room, starting to take off my clothes in a huff.

“Caleb!” I struggled, my emotions spiraling out of control, and I slapped him.

He looked at me with hurt eyes and pulled me in close again. “Phoebe… you’re mine, mine…”

His voice trembled, and as he lifted his hand to cradle my face, the blood from his hand smeared on my skin, hot and stinging.

Seeing the plea in his quivering eyes, for some reason, my heart ached deeply.

A voice inside told me to hold him, to comfort him, that he was easy to console….

“I’m sorry, Phoebe… I’m the one at fault; it’s because they locked me up that you went looking for me, right? You must have not found me… you’re punishing me, aren’t you?” His control began to slip, his arms tightening around me, his voice muffled with apologies.

Was he talking about that year and a half in the psychiatric ward?

“Phoebe… it’s them who should die. They’re the ones who deserve to die!”

My fingers stiffened, my hand frozen mid–air, unsure how to comfort him.

His trembling was intense, and his aura of menace was inexplicably terrifying.

“Colin… did you actually have anything to do with the murders?” My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer and just held me tighter.

“Colin, I suddenly… I’m curious about everything about you.” My hand fell upon Colin’s head, gently ruffling his hair.

His hair was soft, with the fresh scent of shampoo.

Like Colin had said to Robin, where did the sin truly begin?

Perhaps I was wrong from the start, too eager to find the murderer. Maybe I should seek the root of it all.

To investigate the truth behind the orphanage fire, question that doctor in the psychiatric hospital.

What has Colin really gone through?