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As if she’d been snapped out of a trance, she suddenly got anxious. “Right! We have to leave now. Cops are on their way.”
“Jesus, next time start with that.”
She grabbed my hand and led me out of the restroom, harshly tightening her grip on me. The club was almost empty; people were rushing through the front door. Aleksei’s man and Rhea were following the two of us towards the back exit that led to an alley. It was dark and easier to flee the police.
Then, I stopped dead in my tracks at the sound of his voice.
Roughly, I yanked my hand back from Davina and sprinted towards the front, hiding behind a wall.
Davorin was in handcuffs, cussing the cops as they read him his rights. I was too late and couldn’t hear the charge they’d arrested him under, but I was left in a state of disbelief.
Out of all the criminals that were there, many were worse than him. Yet they all roamed free while he got arrested.
They weren’t gentle, either, as they pushed him inside of the vehicle and slammed the door shut. Sirens blasted as another couple of police cars arrived, and it was Rhea this time that pulled me away from the sight.
“Let’s go! I don’t want to be arrested again!”
What the fuck had happened while I was in the restroom? Due to the noise, I couldn’t hear anything other than music. I was gone for less than fifteen minutes in total, yet it was enough for a nice night to turn into a fucking nightmare.
What the fuck did I miss?
EIGHTEEN
EKATERINA
“Fuck.”
A hoarse groan came from my throat. For a brief moment, I wondered if it was truly my voice.
The migraine was indescribable. It hurt to blink, turn my head to the side, or move. It was as if my body was on fire, and the pounding in my head never stopped. It was getting unbearable whilst I tried to get up from the bed and failed miserably.
Then, I managed to snap my eyes open wide.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I repeated. No matter how painful it was, I dragged my aching body to the other side of the room. I remembered how I threw the phone away. Given that it was broad daylight, that only meant one thing.
I hissed under my breath before strolling away to find the charger. Of course my luck was just that bad. The battery had died sometime in the night.
I was way too entangled in trying to find out all the details about who imprisoned Davorin.
He was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison on charges of manslaughter.
All of that was correct, aside from the victims. He wasn’t the one who killed them.
Out of numerous people he truly did kill, he was framed for two murders he did not commit. I knew it firsthand. The day those specific murders occurred, he was in Los Angeles doing that very same thing, but it wasn’t the crime he went down for.
The worst part was how he got convicted. No trial, only charges. He was sent to prison the very next day after his arrest, and it had been a year and a half. A whole year and fucking six months since the last time I saw him. Eighteen long—terribly long—months since he’d last walked freely.
It wasn’t until two weeks ago that I managed to hear something rather interesting.
To figure out why he was framed and who did it, I spent months just mingling around, trying to find out exactly who the motherfucker was who dared to frame my man.
I spent days upon days visiting all the places Davorin frequented. I even went so far as to visit his mother in the nursing home. For a long time, nothing stood out. The bars where he was a regular never mentioned him. The contractors all vanished, as if they’d never requested his services.
Even his home was sparkly clean.
Then, I decided to go to the crime scene where the bodies of his supposed victims were found, so I went to Los Angeles.
The bodies belonged to a married couple in their forties. They were completely irrelevant to the criminal world. They weren’t in politics, and their lives were as clean as possible. Aside from a speeding ticket or two, they lived a good, decent life.
