Page 93 of Twisted Trust

He’s making a beeline for the open back window, but just as I close in on him, he spins and punches me square in the jaw with more force than you’d expect from a doughy landlord. George is packing some serious muscle.

I stumble and fall, tripping over the small coffee table and sending the rest of the empty beer cans clattering to the floor. I’m only down for half a second, though, because if George escapes, so does the truth. With a roar of anger, I lunge at him and time a dodge just as he spins around once more and throws his elbow back. My shoulder collides with his gut and he grunts in alarm. Together, the force of my charge shoves us back toward the open window, so I slam George into the brick wall next to it.

He brings his elbow down on my back and dull pain throbs through my spine, but I refuse to loosen my grip.

“Motherfucker!” George snarls. He attempts to twist out of my grip.

I punch him twice in the gut, then lean up and grab his shoulder. My knee collides hard with his gut and he grunts out a gasp, then collapses down onto the ground. He’s done for good when I kick him hard across the face and he lands in a heap near the bathroom door.

“You good?” Naz stands over George with his weapon training him while looking me up and down.

“Yeah.” Blood trickles down from my lip and it feels like something is constantly pressing down on my spine between my shoulders, but all in all, I’m good. We got him.

After tying George to one of the chairs in the kitchen, it takes him twenty minutes to wake up and then only five before I beat him back into an unconscious state. Every punch feels good,every crack of his jaw, snap of his teeth, and split of his skin under my knuckles is better than any therapy.

The second time he wakes up, Naz steps in to stop me from killing him, much to my irritation.

“Listen, George.” Naz stands in front of him with his stance wide and his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m the only one standing between you and certain death at the hands of Levi so if you have any self-preservation, now is the time to talk, understand?”

“Fuck you,” George slurs through a mouthful of blood, but he flinches back the moment I step forward.

“Give me another fucking reason,” I snarl. “Just look at me, that’s all I fucking need.”

I’m hot all over, like my insides are boiling up and the only way to save them is to thrash and pulverize George until there’s nothing left of him. It’s the only thought I have and it rages through my mind like a fever.

“Pussy like you couldn’t do shit,” George spits.

I knock him out in just a few punches and then Naz sighs tiredly and turns to one of his men. “Get some takeout. We’re gonna be here a while.”

Three hours later, George’s left eye is swollen shut, several of his teeth have been pried out of his mouth, one of his ears is ripped, his clothes are soaked in sweat and blood, and crimson spray from my blows paints the wall next to him.

“A–Alright,” he slurs through a swollen tongue. “I ain’t just a landlord.”

“No shit,” Naz remarks tiredly from where he’s perched on the coffee table. “We knew that already. I need new information. Are you a bounty hunter? A mercenary? Just some idiot looking to make a quick buck?”

I stand in the bathroom doorway wiping blood from my aching knuckles as George shakes his head. “No.”

“Then who the fuck do you work for?” I bark.

“S-Serpents.”

Naz and I exchange a glance. “The Red Serpents?” Naz asks.

George nods sloppily.

“For how long?”

“S–Since I was a teen.”

“Are they the reason you went after Meave?” Naz continues to press while I pace between him and the bathroom.

George nods again. “I was stationed there,” he croaks, his words weak and lispish. “Was supposed t’keep an eye on her.”

“On whose orders?” I ask.

“Leo.”

“Why?”