Resent, Reject, Regret by Aqua Summers

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-”

me away,” she coldly told the cop next to her. Her footsteps bounced off the

station unscathed. If she could not destroy Brendan,

“W-What the hell?!”

for a second. His chest undulated, his fury heaving in and out of him while his injury protested

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

feeling weary. Fatigue was etched onto his very features. He balled his fists. Deirdre… had basically smashed the negotiating table to pieces to avoid

opened. A flash of conflict flitted past

her.

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,