The Starling Saviour

Chapter 32

'You heard all that, didn't you?' Laurel asked me slowly as I left the cupboard.

'Yes,' I nodded. 'Are you going to do what he said?'

'I might look into it,' Laurel shrugged. 'But, why me?'

'I think he thinks you trust him,' I supposed. 'Do you?'

'I feel like... I know him,' Laurel said in a surprised tone. 'It's like we had some sort of... Connection. Everything about him felt so familiar.'

'If you feel like that, then go for the case,' I suggested. 'But I analysed the fingerprints on the knife that was used to kill Declan's wife, and they definitely were Peter Declan's.'

'Someone could've set him up,' Laurel considered. 'It's not normal for someone to kill their wife in front of their baby.'

'That is very true,' I agreed with a nod. 'And if it makes any difference, I trust The Hood. He saved me from Lawton, so he must be a good man.'

Laurel did indeed take up the case, acting as Declan's attorney and representing him as innocent. The evidence and opposing information all pointed to Declan as the killer, and I felt guilty to have been part of such a feat a few years back, when I had analysed the leading evidence for the case and claimed that Declan was the murderer.

I just hoped Laurel could find the right information to set Declan free.

---

Later the next day, I decided to visit my apartment when I knew Marcus would be working at Queen Consolidated. Although I had broken things off with him, I wanted at least some of my possessions back for the time being.

I had shared so many memories with Marcus in this apartment, but they were all too painful to reminisce on after finding out the truth; that it had been all a faux show and I had only been the one in love with him. He had played the romance card extremely convincingly though; I really had believed he loved me.

Inside the apartment, it felt cold as I opened the door, an awful stench filling my nostrils. Maybe Marcus had been smoking again, I thought with a sigh, as though I still had a shred of care for him in my heart.

But thus wasn't the smell of tobacco, and surely enough, I soon found the source to the scent.

Marcus was sprawled across the middle of our double bed, the centre of his chest left gouged and covered in bloodstains where the fatal wound was. His eyes were open with a startled and terrified look eternally stuck on his face, as though everything had died but the fear in his eyes.

'Marcus?' I whispered automatically to the rotting body, as though there could've been a possibility that he was alive. 'Marcus?'

I fell the floor, my knees becoming weak and my mouth trembling uncontrollably, next to the bed that he lay to rest. Small teardrops landed on my bent legs as I cried beside his body, all the love and emotion I seemed to have for him not able to stay confined anymore. Although his ways had been very flawed, Marcus had been my rock and the love of my life for three years, and I had wholeheartedly committed to a relationship with him.

And now he was gone. Forever.

Grabbing my mobile from my jeans pocket, I weakly called 911 for anyone to help me. It couldn't be an ambulance that would be on its way, as he was past saving now, so I waited for the SCPD to arrive.