Resent, Reject, Regret

Resent Reject, Regret By Aqua Summers Chapter 282

Chapter 282 Die on This Hill

Deirdre managed to regain some semblance of composure, but her bloodshot eyes were still as bellicose as a pair of daggers pointing in the direction of the lawyer and the police. “Why… did… you people… lie?! Why did you lie?! You told me you’d help me build a case!!!”

Her accusation pushed the captain’s buttons. “You don’t build a case without solid evidence, ma’am. And you’ve got none of that! Did you really think you could decide if a year-old case was murder just because you said so? Gimme a break!”

“Enough, please…” Sam exhaled, his hands still pinning her shoulders. This could not continue-he just knew it. Gritting his teeth, he said forcefully, “You have to end this right now, Miss McKinnon! You have to drop all your charges against Mr. Brighthall and just… leave the rest to him, okay? That way, you will leave this station in one piece by the end of the day!”

“Drop the charges?” Deirdre’s hollow eyes were somehow made alive by the grotesque force of hate and resentment in them. “So it doesn’t f*cking matter if I was incarcerated on completely false evidence! It doesn’t f*cking matter if he caused my mother’s death! All of these things can just… be forgotten and buried away in your opinion! No wonder Brendan pats your head like a cur, Sam! No. You pass my message to him: He can shove his proposal up his *ss! I’d rather be incarcerated again if it means I can accuse him in court for the rest of my life!”

A sharp pang erupted from his chest. It felt as if his heart was breaking. “Miss McKinnon-” This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

“Take me away,” she coldly told the cop next to her. Her footsteps bounced off the hall, sounding heavy and determined.

Since the moment she had admitted to homicide, Deirdre had long abandoned any hope of leaving the station unscathed. If she could not destroy Brendan, then by God, she would do whatever it took to at

least liberate herself from his control.

“W-What the hell?!”

Brendan’s vision went black for a second. His chest undulated, his fury heaving in and out of him while his injury protested in pain. “She refused my help?! She wants to keep fighting?!”

“Correct.” Sam lowered his eyelids. He was standing outside the station, his body shivering at the mercy of the nipping gale. Their relationship had been improving and stabilizing up to this point-until, suddenly, everything had gone to hell. “Miss McKinnon refused to talk to me and would rather get the cop to take her away. I couldn’t even ask her to agree to a talk between the two of you.”

Brendan closed his eyes, feeling weary. Fatigue was etched onto his very features. He balled his fists. Deirdre… had basically smashed the negotiating table to pieces to avoid giving him a chance. That maddening woman had decided to die on this hill!

His eyes opened. A flash of conflict flitted past them as he exhaled. “Understood.”

He needed to see her. To… talk to her..

It was such a deceptively simple desire. So many things were going against him, and his injury was so severe that he had been banned from moving around at all, let alone driving to the station to talk to her. He pressed his hand against his chest. He had never in his life wished he could recover immediately. Being confined to the infirmary was a kind of torment he had never experienced before, and to his dismay, not even his company’s influence could secure even the smallest of leeways for him.

Brendan lost count of the days it took for his injury to finally heal up well enough, but he instantly made his way to the police station when it did. His injury punished him for his eagerness, as it felt as though

he had cut a new gash on his old wound with a knife whenever he moved. His bandage was drenched in wet blood.

All color had left his face, but the only thing on his mind was the woman detained there.

She had suffered too. She was ridiculously emaciated, and her uniform, while tailored for the average. woman, almost seemed to billow at even the slightest breeze. Her face was sallow and frail, her hair was disheveled and uncared for, and her eyes were surrounded by harrowing dark rings. As she sat across from him, Brendan was aghast by the way he barely recognized Deirdre.

It took his superhuman will to fight the urge to break the window and ferry her away.

“Deirdre, are you out of your damn mind?! Do you even know what this means?!” Brendan snarled. His teeth clenched as the wound he desperately tried to hide behind his hand began to bleed anew. “By admitting to manslaughter, you’ve doomed yourself to imprisonment even if I don’t want to pursue any charges against you!”