I slowly raised my hands, my mind racing.
Lucian.
It had his fingerprints all over it. He wanted me out of the way, and framing me for Caine Everhart’s murder was a perfect way to do it.
I clenched my jaw. First rule of survival when you find yourself in a mess? Run.
The officers moved in, their grips on their weapons tightening as one of them pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
“On your knees, now,” the lead officer ordered.
Not happening.
As he reached for my wrist, I made my move. A sharp twist, a swift kick to his knee—just enough to throw him off balance without breaking anything. I spun behind another officer, grabbed his wrist, and forced him to drop his gun before shoving him into his partner.
One by one, I disarmed them, making sure not to hurt them more than necessary. I twis
