Chapter 20
TWENTY
LONDYN
The burner feels wrong in my hand. Too clean. Too empty. Nothing like the phone that used to hold my whole life..
Malcolm’s across the table, arms crossed, jaw tight. He doesn’t say a word, but I can feel the heat rolling off him. He hates this plan. Hates me being the hook. But it’s the only way.
Dialing Tony’s number, my pulse kicks hard as it rings.
He answers sharp, cautious. “Who is this?”
I swallow, forcing the tremor into my tone. “Tony… it’s me. Londyn.”
There’s a pause. I can hear him breathing, quick, like he’s trying to decide if it’s really me. “Jesus Christ. Where the hell have you been? Everyone’s been looking for you. Cap’s losing his mind.”
What a fucking joke… Cap. You mean, uncle, motherfucker!
I let out a shaky breath, just loud enough for him to hear. “I couldn’t call from my phone. I…I don’t know who to trust anymore. Everything’s wrong. I need to see you. I need to tell you what’s going on.”
His voice drops lower, urgent. “Alright. Calm down. Just tell me where you are.”
I glance at Maverick. He scribbles the location on a scrap of paper, sliding it toward me. I repeat it into the phone, voice low, and shaky. “The warehouse. The one from our last bust. Back lot around nine.”
Tony doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there. Don’t talk to anyone else. Don’t move. Just wait for me.”
The line goes dead.
Setting the phone down, my hands tremble even though I know I sold it. Maverick’s already barking orders…Turbo tracking the call, Steel’s lining up the crew, and brothers getting equipment loaded.
Malcolm leans in close, his voice strained. “You did good. But if he lays a hand on you, I’ll put him in the ground myself.”
I nod. “Then let’s make sure he never gets the chance.”
The ride over is quiet, just the rumble of Malcolm’s bike and the wind cutting past us.
We take the back roads, careful to avoid traffic cameras.
Pressing tight against his back, I wrap my arms tight around his waist, feeling the steady strength in him.
For a moment, it’s just us… no cartel, no betrayal, no war.
Just the road and the man who refuses to let me break.
At a stop sign, he tilts his head back slightly.
“Stay sharp tonight. But remember, you’re not alone.”
“I know. I’ve got this.” I say, leaning closer. Before he pushes the throttle, my lips brush the edge of his jaw under his helmet.
He squeezes my thigh and takes off, the moment gone, swallowed by the roar of the engine.
When we roll up to the warehouse, he disappears into the shadows with the others, leaving me alone. My chest squeezes, but I force myself to breathe.
The warehouse looks worse than I remember… rusted steel, busted windows, and weeds crawling up the brick. Last time I stood here, I was cuffing Malcolm, reading him his rights while Tony stood at my side. Back then, it felt like justice. Back then, I thought I was on the right side of the line.
Now I can’t imagine life without Malcolm. Funny how everything changes when the truth finally cuts through the lies.
Shifting my weight, I pull my hood low, trying to look small. My stomach knots, but I force myself to remain calm.
Maverick’s voice crackles in my ear. “Headlights. Approaching from the south.”
Here goes nothing.
Glancing toward the road, my pulse spikes just as beams slice through the dark. A black sedan rolls up slow, tires crunching gravel.
Stepping out of the car, Tony pulls out his flashlight, scanning the immediate area, eyes narrowing when he spots me. It’s hard to believe not so long ago, I trusted this man with my life. But now I see him for what he is… a lying piece of shit.
Tony’s eyes bore into me, suspicion sharp under the concern. “Where the hell have you been, Londyn? You vanished. You said you were going into protective custody. Why lie?”
I let my voice tremble, selling the fear. “I didn’t know who to trust. The FBI and DEA pulled me in after the massacre. They told me there might be a leak inside the precinct. Someone feeding intel to the cartel. It’s all so confusing.”
His jaw tightens. “A leak? That’s bullshit. You should’ve come to me.”
I shake my head, shoulders hunched. “I couldn’t. I didn’t know if it was you. I didn’t know if it was anyone. So I’ve been hiding out, trying to figure things out, trying to stay alive.”
He exhales hard, running a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Londyn. You think I’d sell you out? After everything we’ve been through?”
I drop my gaze, voice low. “I don’t know what to think anymore. All I know is I can’t trust anyone. Not until I know the truth.”
Tony steps closer, lowering his voice. “You can trust me. I’ll fix this. Herrera’s got men looking for you, but if you stay with me, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
The words hit like a blade. He slipped and said it… Herrera’s men, not Cap. That’s all the proof we need.
Maverick’s voice hisses in my ear. That’s it. He’s in. Move.
Before Tony can take another step, shadows peel away from the walls. Steel and the brothers close in from the back, Turbo’s rifle trained from above. Nightmare emerges from the dark, gun leveled, fury burning in his eyes.
Tony freezes, eyes wide. “What the hell is this?”
I straighten, dropping the act, my voice sharp now. “You betrayed me, Tony. That’s what this is.”
Malcolm’s voice cuts through the air. “Game’s over. You’re done.”
Moving deeper into the warehouse, Steel drags a chair over to a scarred metal table littered with tools… pliers, clamps, and a blowtorch. Maverick shoves Tony forward, slamming him down into the seat while Malcolm binds him tight.
Tony leans back as far as the restraints allow, smirk plastered across his face.
“You think this means something?” he sneers. “You tie me up in some busted warehouse, rough me up a little, and what? Herrera’s already got eyes on you. When he finds out you’ve got me, he’ll burn this whole place to ash.”
Demolition circles him slow like a predator. “Keep talking shit, son-of-a-bitch. Every word digs a deeper grave for you.”
“Cut the act, Tony. I know who you are. Emilio Herrera’s nephew. You’ve been feeding him intel from the start,” I say, stepping closer.
His smirk widens. “Funny hearing anything from you. You used to trust me with everything. Hell, you used to trust me with your body. Don’t tell me you forgot those nights, Londyn.”
“It’s not like you were any good at it,” I scoff. “I’ve had women that fucked me better than you ever did,” I snap. He thinks he’s going to intimidate me after what happened to my family? Wrong bitch.
“Oh shit,” Mav laughs. “You’re a snitch and you can’t fuck? That’s pathetic.”
That shuts Tony’s mouth and his ego real quick.
He exhales sharply. “Fine. Ty was a rat. Rats always get what’s coming. You think Herrera needed me to tell him? He’s got ears everywhere. All I did was speed things up. Is that what you wanna hear?”
The room goes still. Steel shifts his weight, Maverick’s jaw tightens, Malcolm’s fists clench at his sides.
I don’t wait. Reaching back, I slam my fist into his face. The crack is ugly, and wet.
“Stupid bitch! You broke my fucking nose!” he yells, blood streaming down his mouth.
“You betrayed me, motherfucker,” I hiss, leaning close to his face, “and now you’re going to give us everything… names, routes, meetings. Because if you don’t…”
I grab a pair of pliers off the table, letting the metal clink loud against the steel.
“… I’ll make sure your uncle buries an empty coffin.”
Tony laughs, sharp and ugly, blood bubbling at his lips. “You don’t get it. Herrera’s got men everywhere. You think you’re hidden? You think you’re safe? He already knows you’ve got me. And when he comes, he won’t just take me back… he’ll take her.” He flicks his eyes to me, slow and taunting.
“That might be a little difficult considering I jammed your tracker, asshole,” Turbo says, stepping forward with a device in his hand.
Tony’s smirk falters… just a flicker.
Malcolm steps behind him and yanks the back of his head, forcing his face up. “Look at me,” he growls. Tony hesitates. With a violent shove, his face meets the metal table, blood spattering across it. “I said look at me.”
Tony groans, disoriented.
“You’re not walking out of here untouched,” he says, fist curling in Tony’s hair. “You’re going to feel every lie you tell until we get the truth."
Opening a drawer, Steel slides a pair of bolt cutters onto the table.
Tony’s breath stutters. “You… you’re bluffing.”
Steel smirks. “Try me.”
Maverick digs his thumb into Tony’s broken nose, twisting, and he screams like the bitch he is… high, panicked, real terror breaking through that cocky facade.
“That’s more like it,” Mav murmurs. “Now we’re havin’ a conversation.”
Steel steps forward, voice calm but cold. “You’re not in control here. You’re tied to a fucking chair. Start talking, or your uncle’s gonna find you in pieces.”
Tony pants, pain twisting his features as blood drips from his chin. “You kill me, you sign your own death warrants. The entire Mendaro Syndicate will come down on you and won’t stop until you and everyone you love is dead.”
“Everyone I love is dead,” I seethe. “You made sure of that. So I’ve got nothing to lose.”
Malcolm’s boots scrape across the concrete as he steps to the tool table. He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t need to. The room shifts with him.
Picking up the needle-nose pliers, he turns them over in his hand.
“What? That’s supposed to bother me?” Tony asks, but it comes out shaky.
Before he says another word, Malcolm grabs his hand, slamming it flat on the table, the impact rattling the metal tray. Tony jolts, a barked curse ripping out of him.
Using his weight, he pins Tony’s wrist down. Veins strain along his forearm as he tightens his grip.
“You should’ve thought about her family, before you opened your mouth to Herrera,” he mutters.
Slamming Tony’s hand into place, he locks the plier tips around his pinky.
The restraints cut into his skin as he jerks back.
“Hey! Hold on… just… wait…” he stammers.
Malcolm twists, the tiny bone snapping with a sharp crack.
Tony’s scream tears out of him… raw, ripping from the bottom of his lungs. His whole body convulses against the chair, feet kicking uselessly against the concrete as he tries to pull his hand away from the pain.
Maverick lets out a low whistle. “There it is. I just love when they finally break.”
His chest heaves. Sweat beads on his forehead, mixing with blood dripping off his chin. The smirk is gone, his mouth hanging open in shock, breath shuddering.
Grabbing his finger, Malcolm grinds the broken joint once, real slow.
Tony screams again, voice shredding.
I move in until his wild eyes lock on mine. “Every lie you fed me bought you this.”
His eyes go glassy with panic. “Londyn… please…”
“Don’t you dare say my name, ” I seethe, tightening my grip on his jaw.
Malcolm shifts to the next finger. He doesn’t raise the pliers, just sets them there. The cold metal brushing over the swollen skin like a promise.
Tony’s breath stutters, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “Fine… fine! I’ll talk. Just… just don’t… ”
“Then start,” Malcolm growls, his voice vibrating through the room.
Swallowing hard, Tony’s breath catches on the pain. “The textile plant… north docks… Herrera uses it as a hold point. Wednesday nights. Two trucks. Domínguez and Laro run the pickups… Pira coordinates…” His words come out choppy, between stuttering breaths.
Words spill out, fast, desperate, tripping over each other.
He pauses only to cough blood into his lap.
For a moment, he slumps, breathing ragged, eyes unfocused.
Then he looks up, a flicker of something mean twisting the pain on his face.
“You think this saves you, Londyn?” His voice breaks, but his sneer stays sharp. “Tie me up. Threaten me. Torture me. Pretend you’re in control. The Syndicate will find you… and finish the job.”
Demolition slams his fist into Tony’s jaw, the sound echoing like a gunshot. He cries out, cheek already swelling.
Tilting his head back, Tony spits blood onto the floor, chest heaving like he’s struggling to breathe.
Then that cocky grin slides back into place.
“You’re all dead. And when my uncle comes for you?” His bloody smile stretches thin as he mocks, “You won’t even have time to scream.”