MY DARLING DAREDEVIL

Damsel in distress

Damon stared through the transparent glass in silence and worry. The buildings and skyscrapers that were simply familiar with his had no interest in him. The day had done bleak and was going sour as the minute went by and dragged into hours. There was still no news from Charles concerning the whereabouts of Ivy. He was getting restless even when he tried hard not to be. She was simply a stranger with a familiar face yet his mind had refused to get off the fact that she was nowhere to be found. She might not be in any form of danger, she might have decided to run away from New Orleans. She had the face of the woman that was wanted and he might actually be worrying stupidly over nothing.

“But what if she was in actual danger?” his thought protested as it had been doing all day and he groaned. Why was he worrying so much? He had no idea. She was simply a stranger who he had promised to protect. But maybe, that was the reason he was so worried about her, he was a man of his word and would always keep to his promise. He would not rest if something bad happened to her, not after he had committed to her like that. It would mean that he had failed his part and failed her as well. He groaned as the familiar pain struck his head and he turned back to his table. Pulling out a drawer, he took his pills and took out a capsule, then he threw it into his mouth and walked over to the other end where there was water and poured for himself then he gulped it in. His thoughts instantly travelled to Aziza and how she had thrown the pills away before, then to his parents who would want him to continue taking them.

“Sir,” Charles’s voice pulled him out of his many thoughts and he quickly turned to the door. He was poking his head through the door, afraid of coming in especially since he had knocked and heard no reply.

“Found anything?” he asked in that angry tone he had ever since he heard of Ivy’s absence and he gulped. Charles had hated to come give him the news himself but who else was there to do it. He opened the door wider and walked in, leaving it open just in case he needed to run out.

“Her housemate had reported to the cops that the red hair was living with her,” he gave out the information he found. It had been a while he found out about it but he had been so scared to come up to Damon to speak so he had stayed away hoping that he would calm down soon. Damon’s heart skipped as he put two and two together and turned to his table while he fisted his hand into a ball and thought of detective Bishop Grey who he had warned to stay out of his business.

“They picked her up this morning, when she was about to come to work,” Charles added and lowered his gaze while Damon went ahead to pick up his jacket that was hanging at the back of his chair and turned to the door.

“Which station is she?” he growled.

“New Orleans police department,” Sloan responded the moment she heard that question from the door and he snapped his eyes to her.

“You knew?” he growled at her. She lowered her gaze and shook her head slightly while she thought of how lucky Ivy was to have Damon care for her like that.

“Well, yes, I went there with a lawyer earlier,” she explained, intentionally stating the part of the lawyer so he would see that she went there to help. He relaxed seeing that she was not one of the few like Charles who only wanted to get rid of her and walked past her.

“Come with me.”

Back at the station. Aziza had been taken back to the cell and locked up again when Sloan left while preparations started on interrogating her. The moment they were done, they had sent the same cop to come get her out.

“I’m sorry, you are going through this,” the blue-eyed cop said as he cuffed her hands rather gently and softly like he was scared of hurting her.

“Do you apologise to every criminal you meet?” she could not help but question.

“No,” he grinned.

“I can be a very hard fellow to a lot of them,” he added and lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. He still did not understand why he was so different with her, was it her eyes? Or her hair or the delegate look she had. The one that revealed her charm and softness yet the way she walked, talked and carried herself was the complete opposite. Her sharp tongue yet calm appearance were intriguing to him.

“I’m special then,” she smiled, enjoying his company so suddenly.

“Yes, you are,” he finished cuffing her and smiled. There again were those beautiful eyes of his that would make an ordinary woman wet between their legs at the way he stared at them and sparkled when he smiled.

“Where am I heading to?” she asked and looked away from him when he had stared too long.

“Yes, uhmm…..” he cleared his throat and turned around.

“The interrogation room.”

He took her through different cells as they walked past other prisoners in their cells and other officers till they got to a metal door. He opened it and she walked in to find other cops, some gadgets and a lot of computers and weapons. They all turned to her and stared warily as she walked past them. It was a large room to her surprise and was divided by a glass that revealed the white room, a table and two chairs kept opposite each other. They all stared at her warily as she walked past them with him behind her like a protector.

“What’s your name?” she whispered to the cop who had been very nice to her just when he got to the door.

“Nikko wilder,” he whispered back and she walked into the interrogation room, then he shut the door behind her. She walked deeper into the room and sat down on a chair in silence. She turned to the glass and found it tinted from her end. She would see nothing of what was going on outside but they could see and probably hear her. It took a very long time of talking amongst themselves before the door opened and someone finally came in. She didn’t bother to look at the door because she had suspected that it would be no other person than Bishop and she was absolutely correct. He drew his chair out noisily as it scraped the ground and itched her very sensitive ears, then he sat down opposite her and crossed his legs. She lifted her eyes lazily and stared at him without showing any sort of emotion on her face while he stared at her with hate and pride.

“Honestly,” he drew out and dropped some folders on top of the table.

“I do not want to waste my time on this, as much as you too,” he began.

“We all know that you are the red hair, who is Mr. Roxwell’s secret weapon he uses to end his enemies.”

“We know the lives you have taken.” He added bitterly and harshly.

“And there are so many, there is absolutely no way out for you,” he continued and hardened his gaze at her.

“So, make it easier and just tell me the truth.”

She let out a very small smile at his words and relaxed into her chair.

“If you know all this, why are you still interrogating me?” she questioned. His eyes went wide instantly and it turned red with anger.

“You see, you have nothing on me, absolutely nothing except for the face and the only way you want to pin me down is by making me confess to all this….” She drew out.

“Accusations,” she added.

“Don’t lie,” he slammed his hand against the table with a bang.

“We know you killed those nineteen men at the hotel suite. We even have a video,” he growled at her.

“My brother was among those people you murdered like an animal.” his voice came out with indignation, spite, rage and hurt and her eyes went wide, then understanding dawned on her.

“You had killed numerous people before then and they were all for Mr. Roxwell,”

“You had killed the senator on the same day he had a meeting with your boss and had burnt so many other people alive right in public.” He got up with his voice going higher and higher with anger.

“You have done this and many more. You can’t hide or run from it,” he slammed his hand against the table again. She turned to him and looked at him with unwavering eyes. She was beginning to dislike him a lot especially after he had mentioned his brother. If he had a brother who she killed at the suite, it meant that he was part of the people who had wanted to kill Damon. Yet he was there trying to bring justice to his unjust and murderous relation. If he could do that so blindly, it meant that he was as well an unjust man and how she hates men like that.

“I would say I did this,” she voiced out lastly. His eyes brightened instantly at what he thought to be a confession. She could even hear the officers outside cheering in happiness at her words.

“But the question you all should ask is,” she paused and leaned into the table to look him right in his eyes.

“Am I truly the red hair?” she dropped and it went harshly quiet. She smiled and leaned back into her chair. She was beginning to like the mind game and acting a lot more.

“If I’m her, then I’m responsible for all those killings but….”

“If I’m not, you are simply taking my rights away from me and forcing me to accept an accusation here,” she added. The silence stretched for a while as no one cheered anymore. Bishop glared at her, his eyes going red and blood slowly drawing lines in them. His veins were popping out of his neck and his hands were twitching in pure rage. If eyes could kill, she might have dropped dead in that instance but they could not and he could only glare at her. He placed his both hands on the table, his muscles flexing underneath his shirt as he reduced his height and simply gave her his death glares.

“This is funny to you right?” he asked in a dim and a cold voice that revealed his rage from within.

“Damon won’t come to save you now,” he continued. She smiled and smiled even wider at the sweet timing. The feel of the very man he spoke of overwhelmed her and his scent faintly came to her nostrils. Then she shut her eyes at the scent and powerful aura. The smile on her lips could only anger Bishop the more for he knew not why she was smiling so much.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked proudly and turned to the tinted glass. He did not understand what she was saying and simply disliked her confidence and calmness. He groaned, stood to his full height then he ran his hand over his hair before he turned back to her, picked up the folder on the table and threw it in her direction. It hit her right at her face, the smile she had on her face disappeared and her heart skipped at the thought of having a cut, a cut that would heal up instantly in front of him. She immediately touched her face just to be sure. But when she found none, she relaxed and turned to the man who was glaring at her with fire in his eyes. She could have allowed her rage to take over, or glare back at him, but why do that when she could feel the hostility and rage coming from Damon.

“Bishop….” a familiar voice growled into a microphone and deadening silence followed. She was no longer the carrier of death at that moment, for his powers washed all over their skin like a sonic wave and it sent tremor to their hearts. Her heart filled with unimaginable pride at her prince and the pit of her stomach fluttered at the sound of his voice. She took a deep breath, taking in his scent, voice and very presence, then she relaxed at the thought of him being safe and there. She knew that he was going to come, everything from within her told her that he would come. And just like a prince, he came to save his damsel in distress.