Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace (Dexter) novel Chapter 287

Chapter 287 

“Phoebe…” Dexter’s tone held an urgency as he reached for my hand, signaling for us to leave the chaos behind. “Come with me, now. The cops have been called, and I’ll figure out a way to handle this.” 

The crowd was buzzing with whispers and gasps when Melody screamed, intentionally magnifying … drama, her eyes wide with feigned horror as she turned to Dexter. “Dexter, what happened… who’s the murderer?” 

Dexter’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “No one’s dead.” 

“Dexter… what’s going on? Could it be Foebe…” Melody threw a pointed glance my way; her eyes fixated on the blood staining my clothes. “Foebe, you went too far. This could be attempted murder, and that means prison time.” 

Dexter’s face darkened, his grip on my wrist unyielding. “Just follow me. I’ll get you bailed out.” 

“Bunch of lunatics,” Bran scoffed as he shouldered past Dexter and freed me from his grasp. “Even a high schooler knows self–defense isn’t a crime.” 

“But she was so brutal; it’s excessive force,” Melody whined, covering her mouth in mock shock. “Everyone saw it.” 

“Everyone saw you making a scene for nothing,” Bran snapped at her, his words sharp. “You look like the definition of excessive.” 

He yanked open the car door and, with no regard for decorum, shoved me inside. “Look! Damaging property, grabbing people, pulling a knife, attempting murder, and then getting stabbed himself when the knife was turned on him. She stopped a crime in progress. No harm, no foul.” 

Soon enough, the police and the EMTs arrived. 

I figured the Langley family were probably hoping their son–in–law would just drop dead. 

That way, I’d definitely be in hot water for excessive self–defense. 

But, unfortunately for them… 

He was just bleeding enough to scare the hell out of everyone; no real danger to his life. 

The medics and nurses examined his wounds, whistling softly in surprise. “Ten stabs… every single one avoiding vital organs, and none too deep. Looks like he’ll just have minor injuries.” 

The son–in–law in question, as white as a ghost and trembling like a leaf, was loaded onto a stretcher. 

Whether the wounds were fatal or not, I wasn’t sure, but the scare might have nearly killed him. 

*Pretty impressive…” A familiar voice came from outside the car. 

Leaning against the vehicle with a teasing grin was Finn. He must have been part of the police response team. “Foebe… How did you manage to make each strike so clean and calculated, avoiding the vitals like that?” 

Finn eyed me suspiciously, tapping his gloved fingers against the car door, a silent interrogation. 

“L.. I don’t know,” I admitted, my mind a total blank from the recent events. 

“Years ago, there was a case. A boy at an orphanage got stabbed, none of the wounds deep, none fatal. He woke up scared out of his mind, though… Guess who the stabber was?” Finn’s gaze was probing. 

I avoided his piercing eyes. “I have no idea.” 

“The attacker was named Phoebe Caldwell,” Finn said in a low, serious tone. 

I froze, then reluctantly met Finn’s gaze. 

Me? I didn’t remember a thing. 

“Miss Foebe, please come with us,” Finn said, still in that deep, commanding voice, gesturing for me to step out of the car.