One Corpse, Two Lives: I Went on a Rampage

The next moment, Dad's call came through, his voice stern.

"Dylan, who bullied you?"

"Christina and R—"

I had barely said his name when my wife, Christina Ashmore—her face dark with rage—rushed forward and slapped my phone out of my hand. Then she stomped her high heels on the shattered phone screen before following that with a hard smack across my face.

"Dylan Nielson," she snarled. "It's been three years, and you're still this stupid?"

Her eyes were bloodshot as she grabbed me by the collar. "If you dare hurt Roland, I'll make sure you leave this place in a body bag!"

She'd used every ounce of her strength earlier. I tasted blood in my mouth, and my ears started to ring.

Spitting out the blood, I turned my head toward her.

"Not just him," I spat, my voice trembling with rage. "I won't spare either of you. Just wait! The two of you can go to hell together!"

"You dare?"

The words had just left her lips when she clamped her hand around my throat, her voice ice-cold.

"Dylan, even if you risked your life for me before… If you dare hurt Roland, I'll strangle you to death right now. I won't show you any mercy!"

Her grip tightened more and more. It felt as if she could send me straight to the grave in the next heartbeat.

But the overwhelming hatred surging in my chest had long since burned away any fear of death.

Christina knew exactly how broken my family was. She knew that my sister, Paige Nielson, had been my only salvation when I was a child.

Without Paige, I might've jumped off a building alongside my depressed mother when I was 15 years old. In fact, it was also because of Paige's kindness that I had ended up with Christina in the first place.

Back then, if Paige hadn't stepped in to stop those street thugs from harassing Christina—another product of a broken home—she would've likely been the one dragged into that alley and raped instead.

I had spent three years dragging Paige—who had tried to kill herself countless times—out of the abyss. Christina had also repented and sworn to me multiple times that she'd protect Paige for the rest of her life.

But the cruel irony was that not only did Paige's husband die in a car accident while delivering documents to Christina, but Paige herself had died on the way to buy her a birthday gift as well. Roland Burstyn's speeding car had hit her, killing both her and her unborn baby.

And because the culprit was Christina's first love—who'd reappeared after disappearing for seven years—she used every means possible just to protect him, even if it meant turning against me.

"Chrissy, don't do this."

Roland suddenly stepped forward and pulled Christina back. With a feigned look of guilt on his face, he said, "Dylan, it's all my fault. If you want to blame someone, blame me. Don't make Chrissy sad anymore. She's been worried about you these past three years. Every day has been hard on her."

"Roland!" A flash of heartache crossed Christina's eyes, and she swiftly stopped him. "You did nothing wrong. You don't have to apologize!"

She then turned to look at me, her eyes cold as she threatened, "Dylan, apologize to Roland right now and swear that you'll never mention that incident again for as long as you live. Otherwise, I'll kill you!"

I stared at her twisted expression, and a laugh escaped me. "Christina, were you even able to sleep these past three years?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Have you forgotten how Paige nearly lost her life for you?" I demanded, my voice rising sharply. "Have you forgotten the oath you made? Aren't you afraid the ghosts will come for you in the dead of the night?"