Are you killer? No. You are. (Book 2) ✔️

Chapter 12

Olivia Denver's POV:

"What? Whom?" he asks.

I raise my right hand holding the golden gun and point towards the bedroom's door. A blood drop drips on the ground from my raised hand.

The trail of blood leads to the man's body lying around the bedroom door.

"So it was his leg that I tripped over," he says recalling.

He couldn't see the man's face as his back was towards us. But he notices the man's leather jacket. "I know who that is," he says. He stands up and walks out of the room.

I don't feel many emotions. I kinda had turned it off when my parents died in my arms after the car crash. It's been ten years now but I still remember it so clearly.

It was my birthday. I was waiting for my parents to come back from work and surprise me. Instead, a call came informing me they met with an accident.

When I reached the hospital, It was all too late. They took their last breath in my arms. The turmoils of grief that I faced that day. I refused to face it ever again.

And since that day. I had it all locked inside, be it happiness or pain. But today when I've killed a man, guilt has taken over and has broken all the walls. I'm losing my mind, my breaths, everything.

"No. You didn't kill him. Sarah," he shakes my shoulders to jolt me out of my dreading thoughts.

"I did." I move the gun closer to my face.

"I know it in my heart. You did not do it."

"It's a simple case, Danny. He came into the house with this gun. Tried to threaten and molest me. But he had got the wrong girl. I twisted his arm and snatched his gun. One-shot straight to his head," I say with my gaze lowered towards the floor.

"Look at me, Sarah."

As soon as I look into his eyes, my eyes well up with tears. The guilt of killing a man keeps killing me from inside.

Taking my face into his palms he wipes my tears with his thumbs. "Get up. I've to show you something."

He walks up to the main door. Closing the door from inside, he turns towards me. "You see that." he points towards the painting on the ground. "Your bullet hit that painting, not him."

"What? I don't understand. He's dead. Look at all this blood of him." I point towards the blood drop on the tea table and the trail leading to the bedroom.

I don't know why he is not seeing it. It's so simple and clear. Or maybe I'm not in a state to think more complex than this.

He takes a long breath.

"The man was making you walk towards the bedroom at his gunpoint towards the bedroom. But around the tea table, you gripped the flower vase, turning quickly you hit him on his head. He fell on the tea table. Hence the blood and broken glasses.

You ran into the bedroom thinking you'll shut the door behind. But man raised instantly and followed you into the bedroom. Hence the blood trail.

Near the bed, you managed to twist his arm and snatch his gun. Fearing for his life the man tried to run outside. But his vision was blurry from the flower vase attack.

So instead he hit the doorframe at the cut made by a flower vase attack. And he slipped down at the same time you fired your gun. He died from the doorframe's blow, not your bullet.

Your bullet actually hit the Titanic girl painting. Hence the painting is lying on the ground," he explains it all in just one breath.

I stay silent for a moment taking it all in, amused by his talent. "I understand," I say finally.

"Okay, sit here and relax," he says and makes me sit on the bed. Taking a vacuum cleaner and a mopper he starts cleaning the bloodstains.

Did he just say relax?

Yes!! Why not? He is a serial killer. It's kind of his daily routine. Killing people disposing of their bodies. But it's not mine and I just can't stop this guilt even though I didn't do it technically.

And honestly. I'm really doubting now who is the killer anymore. The days I have been with him. I have only seen his acts of kindness and love. I feel like this case is upside down too.

"Are You really a killer?" I ask Danny's hologram, pictured by my brain.

"No. You are," he says with his brightest smile.

The doorbell rings again and jolts me out of my absolute shit theory. I walk into the hall that has been cleaned like the room. That fast!!

Why not? The guy has got years of experience. Anyways, I open the door to be surprised again. It's a pizza boy.

Really? A dead body is lying in the house and this guy needs a pizza?

Wait a minute!! Where is that dead body?

I turn back towards the bedroom. Danny walks out with a big black bag in his hand. I stay stunned. He walks past behind me and hands it over to the Pizza boy.

Holding a pizza in his hand the hot guy appears back in my view. "I'm really hungry, Sarah. Let's eat this."

What the hell!! When did pizza boys start taking dead bodies as a tip?

"Was that really a Pizza boy?" I ask with a spinning head.

"He was one of MIke Shaunder's men. They're elite body disposers. Since it's my home I didn't wanna take any risk."

He notices the small cuts in my both hands. "Oh no, do you have any small bandages? Mine's all used."

"There are some in my bag in my room upstairs."

"Okay. Hold it." As soon as I hold the pizza in my hand he runs outwards.

Gosh!! He cares for me a lot. I think I'm falling for him.

SHUT UP!! He thinks you're Sarah. And you sent him to check your bag.

Oh no! He's gonna find out who I am and then Mike Shaunder's guy will be called again.

For Olivia Denver's Dead Body!!!