I’d burn the entire damn world for her, but she’s already standing in the ashes.
Tony’s barely conscious, babbling through blood. Mav keeps me locked in place, muscles coiled, pulse hammering. Then there’s my woman…moving slow, controlled, her gaze sharp enough to cut, and terrifyingly calm.
Stepping toward Tony, she approaches him like he’s a dying animal. His eyes widen, body trembling under her shadow.
“Londyn,” Maverick warns.
She ignores him.
She ignores me.
Her stare drills into the man who destroyed her world.
It isn’t numbness.
It’s grief that sears through her, hot and unyielding.
Tony lifts his ruined face toward her, tears mixing with blood. “I’ll talk,” he sobs. “I’ll tell you anything…just… just don’t… please, don’t let him… no more… ”
Londyn tilts her head, studying him the way you’d examine a stain on your shoe.
“Tell us where Herrera is,” she says, voice dead and soft.
Tony gulps air like he’s drowning. “Warehouse off Jonesboro road. B-by the old tracks. We… we used it… f-for drops. For shipments. I swear… I swear… ”
Tony whimpers as she steps closer.
Crouching slowly, she brings herself level with him, and when she speaks, her voice isn’t shaky. It’s steady. Too steady.
“You killed my family in that house, Tony.”
His breath stutters.
Londyn’s eyes don’t soften. “My mother cooked dinner in that kitchen. My father watched football in that chair. Ty used to sleep on the couch with a blanket over his head.”
Tony’s chin trembles violently.
“And you,” she whispers, “you sat with them. Ate with them. Looked them in the eyes. And then your people walked into their house… my house… tied them up, tortured them, and shot them while they begged for their lives.”
She leans in until her forehead nearly touches his.
Her voice doesn’t rise. It doesn’t crack.
It sharpens.
“You took my entire world.”
Tony breaks into sobs so hard he can’t breathe.
Londyn doesn’t move.
“Now,” she says, tilting her head, “you’re sorry?”
Tony nods wildly. “Yes… yes… please… I’m s-sorry, I’m so… ”
“Shh.” She cuts him off with a soft finger to his busted lips, like she’s soothing a child.
Her voice is colder than the concrete beneath us.
