Chapter 14 #2
“It was a clue that wouldn’t get him killed,” Levander offered, finishing his third cookie. “While there are many who desire freedom, there is an equal number of individuals who are so valiantly devoted to Stefan, they would report something as minuscule as that comment.”
“To him?” Simon’s jaw feathered. “A piece of fucking shit?”
“Yes, to him.” Levander gestured toward Thorne with his chin.
“You should be grateful we have the details we do.
Without your ex-commander, locating your lover would be like hunting for a marble in a pitch-black mansion.
Thorne has worked tirelessly to gather the intel he has, nearly a year's worth of work in the files he compiled.”
“I am, I’m just…”
“Frustrated,” I answered. “I know, Simon. I can’t imagine how difficult it is, but I trust my fiancé. He will get him back.”
“Then what… What can I do to speed up the process?”
“We are moving.” Levander broke the last cookie in half, resting the unselected portion on his thigh as he devoured the other half. “We have to be strategic, though. There’s a target on your head, Simon, and if we move too quickly, I fear we will never see Liam again, and Stefan will execute you.”
“I’m not worried about my—”
“Simon, stop it!” I shouted, jutting a finger at him. “God, don’t you get it? If you fucking die, Liam will be distraught, or worse, Stefan takes him somewhere we will never find him again! Just shut the fuck up, and listen!”
His jaw clenched, but that fire he’d spoken with diminished at my disapproval. “Okay!” he snapped, settling his attention back on Levander. “Fucking okay, I get it!”
Unamused, the Mafia leader cocked his head to the side. “I know it’s not me you’re giving attitude to.”
Brushing his hand through his hair, he exhaled. “Sorry, no. Apologies. That… Sorry.”
Dropping the last half of the cookie into his mouth, Levander wiped his hands against each other before pushing himself to stand. Without a word, he walked to his desk, snatching his whiskey before turning back around to face us. Two large swigs later, he exhaled in satisfaction.
“Mhm. Good cookies.” Giving me a thumbs up, he turned his attention back to Thorne. “Thoughts, Graves? You’ve been rather quiet, and while I have the bodies, I trust your military expertise.”
“Stefan’s background?”
Levander waved him off. “Mafia. No Special Ops training or time in the ranks.”
Thorne nodded. “So we do what we do best then.” Lifting his gaze to meet Simon’s, he dropped his chin to rest against his knuckles. “We were the Vipers for a reason. We strike when they least expect it and tear them apart limb by limb.”
“Fucking right,” Simon said, mirroring his stance.
“And… me?”
“And you.” Levander snapped, pointing in my direction. “Make more cookies.”
“That… That’s it? I mean, I have more in the car if you want—”
He perked up. “How many?”
“Well, I made a dozen, so…” Counting on my fingers, I lifted my gaze back to him. “Eight.”
“Yep. I want them.”
“Okay! You can come down with us to the car, and I’ll tell you more about them and how to make them too.”
“Oh, no. I don’t cook.” He flicked his tongue over his silver-capped canine. “I mean, I can. But I don’t have the time. You know? Mafia stuff and things.”
“Oh… Mafia stuff and things,” I repeated, nodding my head as if I understood.
“You did do your homework.”
“Oh, lord, smite me,” Thorne mumbled, pushing himself out of the crimson lounge chair.
“But, wait, what else am I supposed to do with the mission? I’m really good with a gun!”
“That would be a conversation to discuss with your fiancé. We decided to stay off one another’s toes when it came to ‘his men,’” he added emphasis with his fingers, “and I’d rather not piss off the esteemed Thorne Graves.”
“But I’m not one of ‘his men.’ I’m his fiancé.”
“Mmm…” Levander drummed his knuckles on his desk. “His facial expression would beg to differ.”
Turning to Thorne, he refused to look at me. Striations danced along his jaw, the words I’d uttered clearly having left their mark.
“Anything else you need from us, Lev?”
Lev?
Levander shook his head. “I mean. Just my cookies.”
“I’ll get you your cookies,” I said, diverting my attention from Thorne.
I didn’t understand why he was upset because I wasn’t one of “his men.” I was his fiancé, someone who loved him more than them. Scratching my jaw, Simon was already heading to the door.
“Oh, Levander?” Simon asked, pausing before he reached the handle.
“Hm?” he questioned, picking his cigarette back up.
“For a Mafia head, you’re… really fucking young. Sorry, it’s been bothering me. How old… are you, if it’s not too much to ask?”
Chuckling, Levander sparked his lighter. “Freshly twenty. My birthday was last month.”
He… He was two years younger than me?
Opening my mouth to respond, I stopped as Thorne headed out, Simon following. Darting my gaze back at Levander, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I… um, I’ll get your cookies. It was really nice meeting you, and hopefully we can talk some more. You’re really nice.”
“Likewise, Oren. You seem like a good man. I’m glad someone as high-strung as Thorne has someone like you.”
Smiling despite the ache in my chest, I dipped my head in a nod. “T-Thank you.”
Giving him one last farewell, I hurried after them, crossing my arms over my chest to keep my heart from bursting out of me.
Something was going on with Thorne, and if it was something to do with me… I needed to know.