Her Savior

He was not letting her out of his house, while she kept on insisting that he should.

“Sit, dinner will be served in a moment. Look… Jane, just stay for the night. I have a spare room, you can have a nice peaceful rest before you go out on the streets again tomorrow.”

He wasn’t finished with her issue, he always likes puzzles and she was proven to be a difficult one to solve.

“So you’re what, making me your good deed of the year?” she asked but sit down, then thanked him when he pulled out the chair for her.

He made a mental note that her table manner was as good as expected, confirming his suspicion.

“Yeah, so Santa can get me what I truly want in life.”

“And that is?” she asked with her hands pointing to her surrounding, clearly mocking him.

“Wishes are not meant to be shared, or did you not know this? It wouldn’t come true.”

“Pfft… you’re so superstitious…”

Pessimistic. Not surprising. He thought as he plated the leftover meatloaf.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

They ate in silence while he kept on watching her while she eats and finish her meal, then he showed her to the extra bedroom since she insisted that she was not going to sleep in his room.

She looked around the guest bedroom. It was clean, nice and warm, and most importantly safe. She decided to take a shower when the nosy detective came to the room and gave her a clean towel. Carefully taking off her clothes, her tears fall from the pain every time she moves her arm. But she finally managed to undress.

Looking at her battered and bruised body in the bathroom mirror, she bites her lip when she was reminded of the unfortunate turn of events that she has to endure.

Never in her still young mind that she thought she would end up as a killer. Having stained her hands with the blood of her husband, being the sinner for taking another person’s life. She has not yet listened to the news again, as she fears that her picture would be plastered all over his death.

She watched herself in the mirror, not recognizing herself anymore. Her darker hair had made her complexion paler than ever before. She had thrown away her contact lenses, finding it not practical for her homeless lifestyle.

Homeless killer on the run.

Years ago, she had thought that she has her life on track by graduating from college and marrying the love of her life. She should’ve backed down when he started using his hands in their arguments. But having no one in her life, she had thought that he would change her future for the better.

Though a couple of her college friends had warned her about him, but she was wooed by his words, his wealth, and his handsome features. She was flattered that he would want her, knowing now she understood why. He had wanted her because she was alone and weak, and she had become his punching bag throughout their marriage.

On the other side of the door, the nosy detective listened as the woman try to drown her sobs with her shower. But failed miserably as he could still hear her, his hands grip the door frame trying his hardest not to burst in and comfort her.

Hearing her cries had taken him back to the many nights, where his mother would cry in the shower. Then she would come out with a fresh bruise, telling the little boy that she fell and that she would be okay.

Turning his back, he finally forced himself to leave her be. She was safe in his house, tomorrow he would think of a plan to keep her away from her abuser.

He walked to the kitchen, and retrieving his stash of the strongest malt, and poured himself a glass. He took his pack of cigarettes just before he goes outside, and sit on his back porch. He lit and dragged his cigarette trying to relax. And then he sighed when he feels the burn of the malt on his throat, as he took a sip from his glass. He closed his eyes, and let his mind relive the night when his father came home drunk and beat his mother to death.

Finishing off on his drink, he didn’t feel the serenity. And that was when he decided to go back into the house. He was still agitated, his mind still wanders back to the homeless woman in his house.

She was tossing and turning in her sleep until she finally drifted off to slumber. But it didn’t last long as the nightmare returned, he was back, he was alive and he was beating her over and over again. She was sobbing in her sleep, his words hurt her as much as his hands. Her hair was pulled, her stomach was kicked.

She was kicking and screaming in her sleep, up till she felt a pair of strong arms holding her. The deep soothing voice was calming her down. She didn’t dare to open her eyes, while she kept on sobbing. Her hands were holding onto her stomach where he had kicked her. She was crying for the loss of her baby, while the deep comforting voice lulled her back to sleep.

The detective was not prepared when he heard her screams, he had almost fallen asleep when he quickly got up and burst into the guest bedroom. She was kicking and screaming, and he quickly pulled her into his arms. He didn’t think twice, but her agony was real. She was deep in her nightmares as she kept on crying and holding onto her stomach.

And his heart breaks for her when she wouldn’t let go of her lower abdomen while whispering her apology to the baby.

What the fuck?

He cursed on the inside, but kept his arms around her body and pulled her closer to him.

“It’s okay… Jane… you’re safe. You will be fine now, you will be good, better. You’re free of him. He will no longer hurt you. Not anymore. You’re safe.”

He pulled the comforter, cocooning both of them while he kept on repeating his words. He finally relaxed when he feels her slowing down on her sobs, and finally, hear her steady breathing when she falls back to her sleep. His hold on her was strangely possessive, and he was surprising himself that he was not one bit irritated by the feeling.

Women have been such a nuisance for him over the years, he was focusing his life and surrounding himself with his work. Although his adoptive mother was busy setting him up with several potential future wives. He was at his prime age of thirty-five, and according to her, he needs to find a wife soon and balance between his work and his personal life.

That wisdom words of hers have been repeated over and over again for several years, he was immune to her setting him up on blind dates. He had never had a steady relationship in years, the closest he has been in a relationship was with his co-worker with who he would do casual hookups now and then.

But there was something he finds unsettling about holding her in his arms, but he pushes that thought aside as his mind was busy thinking of the research that he was going to do on her. Dark hair, light greenish hazel eyes, very pale skin, lots of bruises, medical arm cast on her right arm.

He quietly listed all of her specific traits, while he was holding her and slowly caressing her arm. Up until he too falls asleep with her snuggling cozily to his chest.