Stolen Lies (Truths and Lies 2)

“And all the service stations have been checked. He never arrived to refuel.”

“So it means Basil is close. Aris is close.”

“Any hideouts within fifty miles or so?” he asks. “I could start checking in on some.”

We pretty much own everything worth owning within that radius. My mind flits to a few motels that we don’t. One particular shithole is known for shady motherfuckers staying at. It would be stupid for Aris to go there, especially with a fifty-mil price tag for his head, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try it.

“Let’s check it out,” I order.

After a quick kiss to Talia and Zoe who are napping, I grab my keys. I find Phoenix in a heated discussion with Fowler, but I don’t stick around to break it up. Phoenix has taken command over these men, so if Fowler with the wandering fucking eyes needs an attitude adjustment, who am I to step in and interfere.

Adrian and I climb into my Maserati before zipping through town toward the shitty motel. Fifteen minutes later, we creep up to the building. On the side, a vehicle is parked with a blue tarp covering it.

“Basil’s car,” Adrian growls, jumping from my car before I get it in park.

We didn’t have a plan coming here, just following yet another lead. Most leads are pointless. It’s surprising as fuck this one might lead us right to Aris.

“I want at him before you kill him,” Adrian hisses over his shoulder. “Give me that. I want to ask him straight to his face why he’d turn on his best friend.”

I follow him along the sidewalk. We creep, listening in at each door. Nothing seems of interest until I hear him. Moaning. Lifting my leg, I kick in the door hard. Adrian rushes past me, his gun drawn. When he stops suddenly, I slam into his back.

“What the fu—” My jaw drops, ending my words.

“No,” Adrian whispers. “No.”

Basil, in nothing but his boxers, whimpers at the sound of our voices. Aris, that sick motherfucker, did this to our friend. A friend who we wrongfully thought was a rat was nothing more than a victim. He’s lying on the bed, his torso cut from throat to groin. His body has been pulled apart to expose his organs. I step closer and notice that he’s been freshly packed with ice. Lots of it.

“He’s here,” I hiss.

“N-No,” Basil croaks. “Gone.”

Adrian jolts from his stupor and sits beside Basil on the bed. I mimic his actions, coming up on the other side. As Adrian grabs Basil’s hand and lets out a choked sound, I drag my stare over his open torso. His intestines have been pulled out some and hang over the sides of his ribs, dripping in sticky blood. He has to be in agonizing pain.

“We need to call an ambulance,” I mutter, fixated on the horrific sight.

Adrian jerks his head my way. “That shit isn’t fixable, Boss.” His cheeks are wet with tears. “I thought he was a rat.”

I sit down next to Basil and frown at him. “We didn’t think you were a rat,” I explain. “We just figured you were with one. And we were right. Where’s he headed next? Give me anything and I’ll put you out of your misery.”

Basil’s face scrunches. “H-He wants b-back at the h-hotel…”

“Why?” I growl. “We’ve not even been there.”

“Info…info…” He groans.

“Information?”

“Yesss,” Basil whispers.

Aris is nothing without his numbers and he wants them back. Makes fucking sense. Over my dead body.

“You served me well,” I tell Basil. “Say goodbye to Adrian.”

Adrian makes a growling sound of a pained animal. He leans forward and presses his forehead to Basil’s. “I love you, brother,” Adrian tells Basil. He sighs hard and then he’s gone, leaving me alone with Basil.

“Thank you,” I mutter, pulling out my Glock. “A promise is a promise.”

Holding the barrel against his temple, I stare into Basil’s dark eyes so he doesn’t have to die alone, and I pull the trigger.

Aris will pay for this.

His time is running out.

Talia

“How are you doing?” I ask Kostas. He’s standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie, and looks like he’s a million miles away. When he got home last night, he filled me in on everything. His private plane has been blown to bits, and Basil was found in a shitty motel, alone and dying.

I didn’t know him well, but from what I’ve seen, Kostas, Adrian, and Basil were all close. As close to friends as three men in this world can be. The way he looked at me, with sad, distant eyes when he told me about his death, had me wanting to hold him close.

Kostas won’t ever say it, but I think he blames himself for Basil’s death. If he had looked harder, maybe he would’ve found him in time. My poor husband has suffered so much loss in his life, I don’t know how he even gets out of bed in the morning. If I were knocked down as many times as him, I don’t think I would be able to get up.