Pulse |BLOOD OF MY LOVE|

Part I Chapter I

IF A WORD COULD DEFINE HIM, IT WOULD BE LOVE.

The cold air sent shivers down Isla's spine, or maybe it was the sting of the wound that made her flinch; in the hushed room, it was hard to tell. The interrogation room hung in utter silence, except for the rhythmic beeping of the audio/video recorder and the fidgeting of the person beside her. She needed to dig deep into this individual after the recent events, if Grayson would let her off the hook first.

Isla straightened up, wincing a bit at the pain caused by the wound. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Grayson wincing as he saw her wince, his brows furrowing in worry. As she opened her mouth to speak, the person next to her suddenly cleared his throat, and a notification ping echoed through the room.

Grayson's gaze snapped, pale eyes narrowing at the witness' phone. Isla stared at him, his chest tightening as he stared at her.

"Give me your phone," he demanded.
"Now."

Grayson's cold voice sent a shiver down the witness' spine.

"You're scaring him," Isla remarked.

His voice was dead serious, evident from the look in his eyes as well as his tone. He wanted the phone, and he wanted it now.

"If you don't hand it over, I'll take it out of your hands," he growled.

"Hey pal, give him your phone. He isn't one to listen."

The witness, a lanky guy in a hoodie with a Python print, became quite uncomfortable. Attempting to settle comfortably in his seat, he shifted, only to fall into complete silence once more. He didn't know what to do, so he handed Grayson his phone. He lowered his gaze, his eyelids fluttering nervously. Grayson snatched the phone from the guy's hands and stepped away to check it. He read the text exchanged with her and smirked at how much they texted each other. He clenched his jaw as he read the texts, a bitter taste in his mouth.

Grayson looked up from the phone and glared at the witness. He had one last thing to do before he could let him off the hook.

"Let me give you a piece of advice. It will help you stay alive in the future," he hissed to the frightened guy.
"Stay. Away. From. Her."

With that, he tossed the phone back to the witness.

"So can we go now?" Isla stood up to leave with an eye roll.

"Actually, how about you give me your phone?" Grayson requested as he stepped towards her. "I need to see your messages as well."

She narrowed her eyes, giving him a suspicious gaze.

"It's simple, really," he replied calmly. "You got involved in this matter after all, so I need to do a thorough investigation. We're not sure if you both really have nothing to do with the serial killer."

The hooded guy involuntarily flinched. Isla shifted her gaze towards him. He definitely knew something. Grayson held out his hand expectantly, "Eyes on me, Miss Laurier, " he demanded, " I suggest it's about damn time you give me that phone."

She hesitantly gave him her phone and dug her nails in his flesh in the process. He directly went to her contacts. The phone number was typed into his phone, hers. He stared at the texts she sent and her contact info for a moment before grinning. A sly, almost sadistic looking grin.

"What were you two even talking about?" he asked, his tone shifting from calm to slightly sarcastic. "Why is he sending you so many messages? You are just co-workers, after all, aren't you?" He crossed his arms and looked at her.

"We are friends," she said, side hugging the witness. Grayson laughed a bit, annoyed.

Isla approached the guy's ears and asked, "What were you doing there? Weren't you supposed to meet your friend?" The guy recoiled and responded in a similarly hushed but more gentle tone, "That was where my friend was."