Page 35 of Twisted Trust (Mafia Lords of Sin #10)

LEVI

“ I s he in there?”

A cold wind drags through my coat, chasing away any lingering warmth I gained on the car ride over.

The past few days have been a whirlwind with learning about Antony’s possible involvement, my father’s funeral, the attempt on Maeve’s life, and the trip back to Las Vegas to face down the first chance I’ve had at getting real answers in months.

“Yes.” Naz stops beside me and claps his hands together for warmth. “Tell me, how does the desert get so cold?”

“The same way it gets too hot. Did you know you could drown out there?”

Naz’s eyes widen. “Is that what you want to do to George?”

I roll my shoulders. “Maybe. Depends how forthcoming he is with his answers.”

“We make him talk, we go home happy.” Naz puffs out his cheeks. “Or we kill him and go home happy.”

“According to Maeve, this is where he wants to meet her.”

“How is she doing?” Naz pulls his gun from his holster and checks it while a couple of his men around are doing the same.

“Recovering. Seeing her sent Scott into tears because he’s scared she’ll not come back the next time. She’s resilient, but I feel like I keep letting her down. Twice now, I’ve told her I’ll protect her and she’s gotten hurt. It’s a wonder she hasn’t left me.”

“Ah, she loves you, my friend. She won’t leave.”

Loves me?

I want to hear those words from her after everything we’ve been through. I want to know that I’m forgiven and she still holds a place for me in her heart, but I can’t bring myself to ask.

“You doubt me?” Naz sniffles and tightens the belt holding his coat closed. “Trust me, the way she wasn’t afraid of you when you were beating me? She trusts you. I saw the love in her eyes. You don’t need to fear her leaving you.”

There’s no answer I can give right now so I focus on my weapon and lead the way into the motel parking lot where George demanded Maeve meet him for the money. So much of these past few months have been shrouded in mystery, a mystery that stems back five fucking years.

I’m tired of being in the dark, and George is going to show me the light even if I have to beat it out of him. He also presents the perfect opportunity to work out this quiet, bubbling anger-tainted grief buried deep inside me.

Naz takes the lead through the parking lot.

I scan every car with my eyes, peering into every dark crack and crevice in case George decided to lie in wait for Maeve.

Luckily, there’s no sign of him until we reach the room number he gave to Maeve.

Naz knocks lightly on the door and there’s scuffling from inside, then the clatter of a can falling over followed by a soft curse.

The lock slides back and the door opens, bringing us face to face with George.

There’s a beat of confusion when he looks at Naz, but it melts into instant recognition when he locks eyes with me. George attempts to slam the door in our faces but Naz blocks it with his hand and I shove my way inside as George then bolts deeper into the motel room.

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?”

“I dunno!”

My fist collides with his jaw once more and his head snaps back, hanging there. “I-I swear I don’t know! I didn’t ask! I–I was jus’ supposed to watch her.”

A fuzz descends over me as it clicks in my mind. Even back then when Maeve thought I was dead, she was being watched by the Serpents. But why? What is so important about her?

“Five years ago, before you were tasked with watching her, were you at the drug deal?” Naz continues.

George sluggishly raises his head but he struggles to hold it up. “What deal?”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Naz snaps. “You know what deal. Five years ago. The drugs. The bombs. Your lot had a hand in it, didn’t they?”

George slowly nods. “Mmhmm.”

“Why?”

“W–We were asked to… by one of you.” His remaining eye slides to me and I freeze as coldness seeps through my chest.

“Me?”

“Mmhmm.” George’s eye closes. “He works for the Syndicate.”

“Who?” Surging forward, my hands sink into his blood-soaked shirt and I shake him awake. “Who is it? You worked with someone from the Syndicate? Who?”

“Was it him?” Naz appears beside my shoulder and as George cracks open his eye, Naz shows him a picture on his phone screen. “Is this who you worked with?”

“Yeah,” George gasps with his dying breath. “Th…That’s him.” His eye closes and his head lolls back as a deathly silence takes him. I unhand him in disgust and his body clatters back into the chair while Naz turns his phone to show me the picture.

Antony.

“Antony was working with the Serpents?” It doesn’t sound plausible given how desperate he is for power. Aligning with a smaller family that’s nothing more than a pack of rabid dogs barely makes sense.

“Do we believe him?” Naz glances back at George. “Maybe he’s using his last breath to lie.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. We already know that Antony’s been pretending to be this Cameron guy to get close to Maeve and he’s been doing it for years. Now we find out that he was in league with The Serpents back then and we’ve seen them in Vegas this past month…”

“But why Maeve?” Naz sinks back down onto the table. “Do they know each other? Is he in love with her?”

The thought disgusts me, but it comes with a cold, almost painful understanding.

“No,” I reply. “But I was. And I still am. Back then, if it became public that I was with Maeve, then you know what everyone would see. The Gallo heir finally settling down. No one would ever question whom control of the Syndicate would pass to.”

“So he found out about Maeve?”

I nod slowly. “He must have. Shit… he must have followed me or something, learned about her and then set the whole thing up. The bombs and the explosions were to force a rift between us, and then all that fake evidence painting Maeve as a Serpent was to paint her as a traitor which not only hurts me, but makes it look like I was about to bring a Serpent into the deepest fold of the Syndicate.”

“So why didn’t he?” Naz frowns deeply. “Why go to all that trouble and then instead help Maeve? We have to assume he had a hand in the people telling her to run and protect herself. Why?”

Our eyes meet. “Scott. He must have worked out that Scott is my son.”

“An insurance policy?”

“Maybe. But only one thing’s for sure right now. Antony’s in bed with the fucking Serpents which means no one is safe.”