Chapter 7 A serial killer
ADRIANA
I nearly flinched when the red-haired man slammed his fist on the table before me.
It all happened a few hours ago, but the pain and wounds were still fresh that they left me dumb.
“You still won't say anything?" The man growled for the fourth time.
I clenched my fist and stared at the table, neither looking at him nor answering his questions.
He sighed and slumped down into the chair, ruffling his hair.
"Look, you'd better answer our question and stop trying to be stubborn. This is for your own good,” he muttered as he leaned closer, placing his hands on the table.
“Why did you kill her?" He whispered.
I finally looked up and locked my eyes with his. His lashes batted, and he looked away, unable to hold eye contact with me.
“What makes you think I would kill her?" I asked.
The man chuckled and threw his head back, grinning widely.
"We have your fingerprints on the blade used to murder her,” he replied, and I chuckled.
"Really?” I muttered and tilted my head to the side, my dead eyes still fixed on him.
"Common sense can tell that my fingerprints were found on it because I touched it while pulling it out,” I replied.
He nodded his head, his lips twitching.
“Then… what do you say about those absurd things in your room?” he asked.
My eyes dimmed, and I threw my head back, my brows raising in confusion.
“What are you talking about?"
"Those killing tools and fetish items in your room,” he muttered, and I felt my heart skip.
"I don't understand,” I muttered.
The man chuckled and pulled the seat back.
"Your boss told me you always picked fights with people all the time, and funnily, most of those people end up dying mysteriously,” he muttered as he stood up.
I banged my fist on the table and jerked up, my eyes wide in shock and confusion.
"I don't understand what you're saying!” I spat.
The man's lips twitched into a smirk, and he slapped his hand on my shoulder, then squeezed it so hard that I almost felt my bones break.
"Adriana, this is slowly turning into a serial murder case. You should stop being stubborn and go to jail for your crimes,” he muttered.
I scoffed loudly, scowling at him as I leaned closer.
"I won't go to jail for what I haven't done, Mr officer,” I spat at his face.
"Okay," he muttered, throwing the mockery in his voice at me before spinning and heading to the door.
My heart pounded as I stared at his retreating steps. This was not going to stop here, and I was afraid that I would have to pay for all those accusations the same way I was forced to do back in the Blood Moon Pack.
“One more thing," he called out, causing me to raise my gaze.
“There was no other fingerprint found on the blade aside from your own, so you remain our prime suspect for her death," he muttered, and I scoffed loudly in disbelief.
“Why would I kill ma’am Felicia!" I yelled.
He shrugged and tilted his head to the side, then twisted the knob and pulled the door open, his sharp eyes still fixed on me.
“Why would you also kill people you don't even know?" He muttered and chuckled loudly before slipping out.
I sighed and ran my handcuffed hands through my messy hair, cursing loudly.
Different thoughts flew around my head as I slumped down into the chair.
It was true that I always got into fights with people over issues, but these were mostly rogue men who always tried to harass me on my way to work or even during work. But in no time or space did the thought of killing them or rendering them useless ever cross my mind.
The thought of someone setting me up for murder caused chills to break out on my body.
I barely talked to anyone aside from Ma'am Felicia. Even my boss and neighbors knew nothing about me.
I questioned who could be behind this setup, but each time I thought about it, the answer remained unclear. I had neither a friend nor a foe here.
I groaned loudly and dropped my head on the table, tired.
The moment my eyes slammed shut, the mark flashed across my eyes. My eyes flew open, and I sat up again while gasping loudly.
“What if they are the one," I whispered and gasped again.
"They set me up to have me killed by the law? What could they want from me? What?” I muttered, soaked in confusion and disbelief.
The boss of that gang, who seemed to have a feud with my brothers, was killed that night by my brothers, and after that, I never heard about them again, though the mark on the wall constantly haunted me in my dreams.
“What if someone is taking revenge for him?" I whispered, but the thought seemed stupid, so I dropped it.
Even if they wanted revenge, they would go after my brothers, not me.
“Or they could come after you because you're their easiest target and root of their downfall," a voice that sounded familiar to that of my wolf whispered in my head.
I scoffed loudly and shook my head.
“No, besides, who are you?" I snapped back at the voice.
It went silent after a low chuckle, and my eyes widened.
I had locked my wolf in after I came to Detroit. It seemed weird that it was unlocked without my knowledge. Unless…
My eyes lit up, and a gasp escaped my lips as the realization hit me. She could be here!
“No, that can't be true. What would she be doing in a police station in Detroit?" I muttered, trying so hard to push the thought away.
I felt tempted to call my brothers and inquire about Arlene's whereabouts, but I stopped myself from carrying out the foolish idea.
I slammed my eyes shut and shut down my mind while waiting for the officers to conclude their investigation and throw me into jail. This was my life, and I had to face it.
I would forever be the villain, no matter where I went.
The door suddenly pulled open, and my eyes opened.
I jerked up my head and sat erect, glaring at the man as he shuffled closer with an iPad swinging in his hand.
He dropped it on the table and slumped down into a chair, then pushed it towards me.
“That is the picture of the disgusting things found in your room," he muttered as he nodded his head towards the iPad before me.
I stretched my neck, and my heart clenched in disgust at the sight of the photos.
Chopped fingertips, tissues smeared with blood, blades of different sizes arranged neatly on a counter, a board that had the picture of Ma'am Felicia and three other men pasted on it, and the mark.
My throat ran dry when I saw the mark in the centre of the board. Red lines were drawn from it to each of the pictures, with words scribbled under each photo.
“It's possible someone planted this in my room!" I snapped as I shot up my head.
The man scoffed loudly, his eyes narrowing.
“You seem to have an excuse for every crime you commit," he muttered.
I slammed my hands on the table and leaned closer, my eyes piercing into his.
“I did not do it!" I groused.
The man sighed and took back the iPad.
“You were talking to yourself just a few minutes ago. Do you suffer from a mental illness or something?” He asked.
I scoffed loudly and leaned back into my seat.
"Mental illness? Do I look crazy to you?” I spat.
The man shrugged.
“I did some digging on you and found out you're directly related to the Nox brothers,” he muttered, and my throat knotted.
My gaze fell, and I clenched my fist, cursing silently.
"Now I know where your madness for blood came from,” he added.
"I have no business with them anymore!” I snapped in anger.
"Why? Because you tried to murder your sister?” He blurted out, and my head snapped in his direction.
"What told you that?” I growled, jerking up from my seat in rage.
"Are you scared someone might have betrayed your brothers?”
"They wouldn't dare!” I spat out before I could stop myself.
The man grinned widely and leaned forward, mischief dancing in his eyes.
"Even your sister?” He whispered, and my heart dropped down into the pit of my belly.