Page 50 of Twisted Control

“So…Theo?” I ask carefully.

“He’s with me now.” Levi’s tone is dry. “Genius.”

I glance at the empty back seat like he might suddenly appear.

“Not right now. He’s with a sitter. You think I’d bring a kid on a job?”

I just stare at him.

“I can’t imagine you taking care of a kid.”

He shrugs, unfazed. “I take care of you just fine.”

I let that one slide.

“What is he, like six now?”

“Ten.”

“Right. And when did she die?”

Levi finally looks at me, eyes narrowed. “What is this, a deposition?”

“I’m gonna find out eventually⁠—”

“Three or four weeks ago.”

I blink at him. “Weeks?”

I saw him almost every day before this job came up.

“You’re telling me your mom died and you just...didn’t mention it?”

“Why would I? What are you gonna do? Send flowers? Write a fucking poem?”

I lean back in the seat, rubbing a hand over my jaw.

This is classic Levi. Casually drop a life-altering piece of information, then act annoyed anyone reacted to it.

“You alright?” I ask finally.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he snaps.

I hesitate. “When my mum died⁠—”

“You were a kid, I’m not,” he cuts in.

I let it go.

I was fourteen when she died. Left with nothing. Sleeping rough. Levi was eighteen and already deep in Ray’s crew when he picked me up off the street. After that, it was just us.

Twenty years ago now. Hard to believe sometimes. Although the mileage on this beat-to-shit Mustang he refuses to get rid of tells the real story.

“There’s our chance,” Levi mutters, nodding toward the hotel.

Jamie yanks off his hat, wipes his forehead, and shuffles toward the side alley, already fishing for a lighter.

We step out of the Mustang in sync. Levi moves ahead while I follow a half-step behind. He takes point naturally. I don’t mind—it keeps his ego happy.