Chapter 173
Dexter’s eyes blazed with a fury so intense it seemed he might truly be capable of murder.
Pushing him away with all my might, I gasped for breath and snarled at Dexter, “What right do you have to say any of this? Weren’t you the one who got her killed? Wasn’t it you who sent her to distract that murderer? If she hadn’t died, would you have even let her have the baby?”
“Yes!” Dexter’s fist slammed into the trash can behind me.
The can clattered to the ground, and we both fell silent, glancing back toward the old courtyard, afraid that someone might have heard the commotion.
A couple of dumpster divers started to approach, looking for salvage, and we both breathed a sigh of relief. Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.
After a long silence, Dexter’s voice came out hoarse. “I would’ve married her.”
It was as if he was speaking,to me, yet at the same time, talking to himself.
“Do you believe in souls?” he asked with a bitter laugh.
I didn’t answer.
“That day…I thought I saw her…”
I didn’t know which day Dexter was referring to, and I didn’t care anymore.
Robin arrived shortly after, cautious not to spook anyone, bringing only Cory and a few undercover cops for a secret visit.
They sneaked into the yard, quietly opened the door from the inside, and burst in.
Dexter and I followed suit.
Inside, a lanky figure was slurping down instant noodles when Robin pinned him to the couch.
He seemed to have expected us, remaining cool as he leaned back on the couch. “What do you want?”
Robin frowned. “You’re a suspect in a murder case. Come with us.”
The man just smiled and remained silent. Half his face was scarred from burns, obscuring his features.
But he was tall, and his gaze was icy.
Before following Robin out, he glanced at me.
That look was full of murderous intent.
A chill ran down my spine, and I quickly stepped back.
Dexter frowned and pulled me behind him, taking my wrist.
10:15
I shook off his hand and waited until Robin had taken the man away before I spoke up harshly. “Mr. Fitzgerald, I’ve got to go.”
“Foebe Larson, I’m not discussing this with you. Leave Caleb, divorce him,” he insisted, gripping my wrist so tight it was clear he wouldn’t let go.
I tried to shake off his hand with disgust, but he was obstinate, determined to make me leave
Colin.
“Dexter, are you sick in the head?” I cursed, then suddenly laughed. “Are you addicted to thinking I’m Phoebe Caldwell? You think you can project your guilt onto me and make up for your pathetic, pitiful pride?”
Dexter looked down, refusing to speak.
“Let me go!” I struggled, but I was no match for Dexter’s strength.
He dragged me out of the courtyard, ignoring my resistance.
“Dexter!” I was shoved into the car, and he locked the doors.
I felt a wave of panic as if I had returned to life before my rebirth.
Dexter’s coldness and torment were a nightmare.
“Where are you taking me?” I slapped him hard, trying to get out of the car.
Dexter pinned my hands to the seat, pulled off his tie, and tied my hands to the passenger handle.
“What the hell are you doing?” I glared at Dexter.
His sudden madness today was no accident. He was taking me away… to do what? To do something to Colin? *
“The murderer is Caleb. I won’t let anyone who hurt Phoebe get away,” Dexter said gravely.
I knew it. My heart clenched, and I struggled against the ropes. “Dexter, you bastard, what are you going to do to him?”
Dexter drove in silence.
“Dexter, you bastard, what are you going to do to him… what are you going to do!” I tried kicking him, panic–stricken.
Dexter pinned my legs down, giving me a warning look. “You want evidence, right? I want him dead.”
Dexter was convinced Caleb was the murderer.
“I’m going to make you watch as he confesses he’s the murderer.” Dexter’s voice was hoarse as he continued to drive.
I fell silent, slumping in the passenger seat. “What are you really going to do?”
10:15
“He’s a psycho. Well, I’ll make sure he stays insane forever.” Dexter drove towards the abandoned asylum.