Framed for a Hit-and-Run Reborn to Expose My Wife and Her Ex

Chapter 3

"It wasn't me! Why the hell would I confess to something I didn't do?!"

Pain burned through my ribs, but I gritted my teeth and forced the words out.

SMACK!

A sharp sting exploded across my face as Hannah's slap sent my head snapping to the side.

"Zach Sullivan," she seethed. "Look at yourself. What the hell have you become?"

I let out a shaky breath, my fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms.

"If you did it, own up to it," she snapped. "Like a damn man. Stop trying to weasel your way out of this!"

Anger surged through me, hot and suffocating.

"I told you—it wasn't me!" My voice was hoarse, raw. "The fact that you're pushing this so hard just proves you've got something to hide."

A slow clap echoed through the air.

Liam Reed.

The smug bastard stood nearby, arms crossed over his chest, a sick little smirk playing on his lips.

Then, with zero warning—

CRACK!

His boot slammed into my ribs.

I choked on a sharp gasp, my entire body screaming in pain, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fold.

Liam crouched beside me, voice dripping with mock concern.

"Zach, buddy. The evidence is right there, and you're still acting like a victim?" He clicked his tongue. "People like you don't deserve fair trials. You should be executed on the spot."

The reporters ate that up.

Their cameras whirred, lenses clicking as they honed in on him—on his performance.

And the mob?

They lost it.

"Execute him right here!"

"No trial! Just send him straight to hell!"

"Two lives, gone in an instant! And he thinks he can walk away?!"

Their voices rose into a furious roar. Then—

The crowd parted.

A man stumbled forward, his breath ragged, his eyes bloodshot.

His hand trembled.

And clutched in his grip was a knife.

The second people saw the blade, the energy shifted.

A ripple of hesitation ran through the mob. A few people stepped back. Others froze.

But the man?

He didn't hesitate.

His shaking fingers tightened around the hilt. His chest heaved with grief so thick it was choking him.

And then, in a voice that cracked with rage, he pointed the knife straight at me.

"Zach Sullivan," he rasped. "Give me back my wife. Give me back my child."

My stomach dropped.

I knew who he was.

The husband of the woman in that video.

The man who had been waiting for his baby's birth—only to have his entire world ripped away.

And now, there was only one thing left inside him.

Vengeance.

His breath hitched—

Then, with a strangled cry, he lunged.

I struggled, pinned under the weight of too many hands, muscles burning as I fought to move—

But it was useless.

Was this it? Was this how I died—again?

Just as the blade came down—

THWACK!

A baton smashed through the air, knocking the knife clean from his grip.

A young officer stepped in, his voice a razor-sharp bark.

"Back the hell up!"

The crowd jerked in surprise.

Even Hannah and Liam took a step back, pretending to be shocked.

But the victim's family?

They weren't done.

Before I could catch my breath, they tackled me to the ground again, their grief warping into something wild and desperate.

"Officer! Help me!" My voice was raw, my ribs aching.

Hannah let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Zach," she said, shaking her head, "even the cops are here now. Just confess already."

Behind her, Liam scoffed.

"That's right! The police wouldn't be involved if you weren't guilty." His voice hardened. "Stop lying."

The officer frowned.

"What the hell's going on here, Zach?" he demanded. "You just got out of detention. How the hell are you already in the middle of this?"

The victim's husband let out a guttural scream.

"It's him! He murdered my wife and child! Two lives—gone! Officer, we need justice!"

The mob roared in agreement.

"He's a monster! He deserves the death penalty!"

"Yeah! He ran over that woman again and again—who does that?!"

The officer's jaw tightened.

"Hold up," he said, cutting through the noise. "You said this happened yesterday?"

"Yes!" the man sobbed.

The officer's frown deepened.

"Then that's impossible," he said, voice firm. "Zach has been in custody for the past seven days. There's no way he could've done this."

Silence.

For the first time since this nightmare started—silence.

The mob faltered, their fury thrown off balance.

The victim's husband's face twisted, his grief tangled with confusion.

Liam, though?

Liam didn't flinch.

Instead, he slipped into the crowd, then redirected the fire.

"Officer," he called, his voice sharp and accusing, "are you seriously covering for a murderer?"

Hannah gasped, latching onto the opening like a shark scenting blood.

"That's right!" she cried. "I'm his wife, and I can testify that Zach is guilty! Are you really gonna let him go?"

The cameras whirred.

The officer hesitated.

Hannah saw it. She saw that flicker of doubt—

And she pounced.

Her voice rose, cutting through the air like a blade.

"Don't tell me… you've been bribed by Zach Sullivan."

And just like that—

The rage snapped right back into place.

"Yeah! He's rich—he thinks he can do whatever the hell he wants!"

"The cops are covering for him! Corrupt bastards!"

I could feel the hands on me tighten, their fingers trembling, their rage teetering on the edge of something irreversible.

The officer's face hardened.

"That's enough!" he barked. "We don't take bribes. If you don't believe me, come down to the station and check the records yourself."

For the first time, the crowd wavered.

Hesitated.

But Hannah and Liam?

They weren't about to let me walk.

They exchanged a look.

Then—

Hannah's lips curled.

"Oh, Zach," she murmured, her voice thick with false sympathy. "You thought you could bribe the cops and walk free?"

She turned to the crowd, her smirk flashing like a blade.

"Well. Look who we brought with us."

She stepped aside.

And from behind her—

An old man slowly walked forward.

Every muscle in my body went rigid.

My breath hitched.

No.

No, no, no—

He moved closer, his expression filled with righteous fury. His hand trembled as he lifted a finger.

And then, his voice rang out, loud and unshakable.

"It's him!" he declared. "He killed that poor woman and her child!"

My blood ran cold.

I opened my mouth, but my voice barely came out.

"…Dad?"