His Possession To Claim

"I don't understand," Aria said, her voice shaky as beads of sweat rolled down her forehead.

"We found that the blood in the front and back seats doesn't match. They're from completely different individuals. Was there someone else with you in the car?"

A long silence followed, each second stretching like an eternity. Aria's hands clenched into fists, her mind racing between the safety of her secrets and the weight of the truth. "Yes, my attacker. But out of self-defense, I stabbed him, pushed him out of the car, and drove off," she lied, her voice tight.

"Why didn't you mention this earlier?" the investigator asked, frowning.

"I was afraid," she said, swallowing hard. "But I swear, I didn't kill him. The cut wasn't deep, and I'm sure he was still breathing when I left." Another lie, she hadn't even touched any of the men, except for the one who wanted to force her.

The investigator tilted his head, watching her carefully. "Interesting. Because we have someone who just turned himself in claiming responsibility."

"What?" Aria's stomach dropped. Her pulse quickened as dread curled in her chest.

The officer gestured toward the door, her eyebrows furrowed as a man was brought in. He was smaller, timid-looking, with unkempt hair and a trembling demeanor. He looked nothing like the towering men who had chased her the night before.

"This man says he was the one that tried kidnapping you out of his spite to get his revenge on your late father."

The man lifted his head. His voice was soft, almost too soft. "It's true. She attacked me first, and I fought back in self-defense. I…I didn't mean for things to escalate. But it was my quest for getting revenge."

"But did she stab you?" The man concord almost immediately.

"What did you stab him with?" The Chief Investigator asked turning to Aria. With this Aria squinted her eyes with a hint of mischieves in them.

"With a shard of glass.," she said as she looked at the man who looked everywhere but her.

"The lady says otherwise, what do you have to say about this because your wound is a knife cut, not from a glass." The chief investigator queried peering into the man's eye.

"She must have forgotten, it was a knife, she was with a knife that evening. I think she is trying to avoid the question of why she was with such a weapon." He answered with a grin.

Aria's jaw clenched as her mind reeled. Lies. All lies. Yet, she couldn't speak up without exposing the parts of the story she had deliberately left out. The man's claim felt orchestrated, too convenient—his eyes avoided hers, and his trembling hands betrayed none of the strength of the men who had pursued her.

"You're saying you breached the wall at the farm, too?" the investigator asked him, arching an eyebrow.

The man nodded, his gaze darting around the room. "Yes. I panicked after she attacked me and tried to escape through the wall."

Aria felt her blood run cold. None of it made sense. The investigator's gaze flickered between her and the man, his expression hardening.

"Ms. Houston, this man's story contradicts yours. Care to clarify?"

Her mouth felt dry. She scrambled for a response, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. "I already told you everything I know. I don't know why he's lying."

The officer's eyes narrowed. "And you're sure you're not leaving out any details? Because right now, neither of your stories is holding water."

Aria's chest tightened. Every lie she had told seemed to twist around her, constricting her like a noose. She forced herself to meet the investigator's eyes, masking her inner turmoil. "I'm telling the truth."

"Is that so?" he said, skepticism dripping from his tone. "Then why does he match your description of the attacker?"

He didn't. Not in the slightest. Aria wanted to scream it, to point out the discrepancies, but she couldn't risk it. The truth would only pull her deeper into the mess.

"Okay, that would be all, but we will still get back to you for any further inquiry and if you know any slight details Ms Aria Houston, it would be best for you to spit it out to not complicate the matter," but Aria just shook her head and she stood up walking off utterly lost.

"Officer Sony!" the chief investigator called, breaking the tension.

"Yes, sir!"

"I want you to keep a close eye on her," he said, his voice low but firm. "Something doesn't add up. I don't trust either of them."

Aria boarded a taxi home, her thoughts in chaos. She stared out the window, replaying every moment of the past 24 hours. Her hands trembled in her lap, the weight of the investigator's scrutiny pressing down on her like a boulder.

Why would they send someone like him? she wondered. The man didn't fit the profile of her attackers. He was a pawn—someone disposable. But why? And what did they hope to gain from this charade? Maybe to avoid any lead that would point to them. Her villain must be too cunny to do that.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice they had nearly reached her apartment until the taxi horn jolted her back to reality.

Her phone rang, cutting through her spiraling thoughts. She glanced at the screen—it was Jenny.

"Jenny."

"Aria?" Jenny's voice was a mix of relief and concern.

"Yes, it's me."

"Oh my goodness, Aria. I have been trying to reach you since last night, bit you weren't picking up my calls, I was really beginning to worry," Jenny voiced out with a concern voice. "Will you still be able to make it?" Jenny asked.

"Make it to what?" Aria inquired.

"Have you forgotten, we are suppose to have our game day tournament today against those buffoons. How could you have forgotten? You had always looked forward to it, to boost your grade" She reminded.

Aria's heart sank. "Oh my God, I completely forgot."

She hung up abruptly, paying the driver and rushing into her apartment.

….

The quiet inside was unnerving. She glanced toward the unconscious man, still lying where she had left him. Approaching him cautiously, she checked his vitals again. Relief washed over her when she found them stable.

Her fingers hovered over his face, brushing a stray strand of hair away. "Who are you really?" she whispered.

Without wasting any more time, she got into the shower as he took her bath, carefully minding the bruises she acquired from the thorns. When she was done, she got ready putting on her sports outfit almost immediately. She was going to be among the participants to take part in the sport. She went on to packing up her sneakers, water, baseball, her towel and other necessities she might need eventually.

She cleaned him up quickly, trying to distract herself from the mess of emotions swirling in her chest. As she wiped his face and torso, her thoughts betrayed her.

She shook her head, dismissing the thought. Once she finished, she headed to the pharmacy for IV fluids to hydrate and energize his body, she returned, setting up the drip with practiced ease.

"I'm only doing this because it's the right thing to do," she murmured, more to herself than him. "Nothing more."

Yet, as she picked up her bag for the rivalry game, her eyes drifted to him one last time before she left. Something about him tugged at her, even as her logical mind screamed to let it go.