Davis had his hands tearing at the man before him before he realized who he was.
Ivan let him have those seconds. He didn’t fight back.
“Tell me what I want to know!”
Not one for dramatics, Ivan said, “You already know, mate. She’s dead. I’m sorry.”
Davis still clenched Ivan’s shirt front and leaned his head down as his stomach retched. To hear the words was like a gut punch. Someone finally said the words he fought to hear.
Davis stood again, released one hand, reached back and punched Ivan in the face.
After the recoil, Ivan didn’t strike him back. He held him, as Davis began to sink to the floor.
“Come on, man,” Ivan said with a slur. “We’ve got to go.” He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Linda’s outside, she’s waiting. We’re leaving here after we pick up a few things from my house.”
“I’m not leaving. You take Linda and go… Get out of here. I’ve got to end this.”
“No, you don’t.”
A rapid knock came then…at the back of the door.
“They’re coming,” Linda said. “Let’s go.”