Resent, Reject, Regret novel Chapter 284

Deirdre was writhing despite their hold as she whimpered unintelligibly. Brendan realized what was going on with her and picked up the phone, his pain forgotten as he yelled, “Stop! You’re hurting her!”

The cops met his eyes and loosened their grip, causing Deirdre to fall forward on the floor. Her eyes were unfocused, as though the sheer magnitude of her sorrow had made it impossible to pay any attention. “You’re a cutthroat, Brendan. You’re so good at it, aren’t you?” she croaked tearfully.

He had treated her love for him as an invitation to use and abuse her. Then, even after all the sins he had committed, he had squawked about pretending none of this had happened. It was all… for nothing.

He had always been openly disdainful of her love back then. As it turned out, he was still spitting on it right now.

No one abused others quite like Brendan. No one.

Deirdre’s heart had turned cold. No, it was broken—shattered and trampled by the b*stard yelling into the phone behind the window. Her face had turned expressionless.

She ignored what sounded like Brendan’s incessant shouts on the phone and felt along the wall. Then, trembling, she made her way out of the cell.

Brendan sank into his chair, his face as white as a sheet. It was the cop beside him who noticed his state and called an ambulance.

By the time Madame Brighthall heard the news, Brendan had just gotten a blood transfusion. She trained a shaking finger on the sickly man, bellowing, “Have you lost your mind?! That vixen plotted to imprison you—she wants you dead! But what did you do after you finally recovered from your injury slightly? You went to see her again! Do you have a death wish, huh? What kind of son did I even bring into this world?!”

Brendan shut his eyes. His lips were pale.

Charlene’s face turned white. Madame Brighthall looked troubled too, but she steeled herself and argued, “Don’t take your steam out on Lena, Bren! She saved your life!”

“Yes. She saved my life.” Brendan clenched his hands into fists, his eyes hopeless and desolated. “And I destroyed Deirdre’s.”

He remembered how broken Deirdre had been. The murderous intent in her eyes had felt like being stabbed by a twisting knife. He closed his eyes, feeling fatigued, and murmured, “She’s not going to jail again. Period. I’ll work hard to talk her out of it, so leave this issue alone… both of you.”

It was not true. For the rest of the week, Brendan had been denied an audience with Deirdre completely. Knowing he could not force a meeting, he sought Sam’s help.

“You go.”