Bitter Queen (Advantage Play #4) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,39
is brightly lit as I approach the family table where Kingston, Stefan, and Jack are all sitting. With a river of cards in the center, they finish out their hand of Texas Hold Em’ while I pull out a chair across from King and watch.
“Hey, D,” King mutters before collecting the chips from the center pot. The bastard won with a pair of aces and kings.
“Hey,” I return.
“Get some rest?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. ‘Cause we’re gonna have a hell of a day.”
He shuffles the cards and deals a fresh hand but includes me this time before shoving a couple of grand’s worth of chips in front of me too. His other half, Ace, taught us all the tricks of poker when King was learning how to beat Burlone at his own game. But we ended up liking the easy pace along with being able to shoot the shit with each other. Therefore, the practice sessions stuck around even after everything fell apart.
However, there’s a weight in the room this time. As if we’re all waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’d been so far removed from everything that I’d almost forgotten the shitstorm we’re in.
“Took you long enough,” Stefan calls out as Dex trudges down the stairs. “We’re in here.”
He rounds the corner and finds us in the kitchen. The bastard looks like shit. His face is black and blue from the well-deserved beating in the shed, and his hand is bandaged up from where Kingston executed his punishment. And even though I’ve seen a lot of messed up shit, I’ll never forget the raw look of determination on Dex’s face as Kingston sawed off his pinky then tossed it in his lap.
But even after the doc looked him over, he still looks like he could use a few days off. If only we were awarded that luxury.
“What are you guys doing?” he asks as he takes in the poker chips strewn across the table.
“We were waiting for you,” I answer him. “Sorry about your face, by the way. I had to make a statement that I stood by Kingston’s decision regardless of what it was.”
“I figured.” He smirks. “And I would’ve done the same.”
“Good.” With the toe of my shoe, I push out the kitchen chair on my right. “Take a seat.”
Plopping down next to me, he watches the rest of the hand play out before Kingston gathers the cards and shuffles them together. Once he’s finished, he gets to the point.
“As you know, Jack has reason to believe his ex-boss was working with Burlone. We don’t know to what extent, but I think it’d be beneficial to find out. Unfortunately, he hasn’t tried to contact Dominic’s cell––yet. But that might have something to do with the fact that he was trying to frame Jack with the burner.”
“What if we pretend to be Dominic and tell him we have information on Q?” Dex offers. “Maybe he set up iMessage or something and can read the messages through a computer too?”
Nostrils flaring, I point out the obvious. “If we mention Q, he’ll know we have her and might come after her.”
“We don’t know that,” Dex mutters under his breath.
“Then why the hell would he be looking for her if he didn’t want her?” I seethe. “After the hell she’s been through, she deserves to stay hidden, and we owe that to her.”
Trying to placate me, he raises his hands in surrender. “If Dominic’s contact is Jack’s boss, then he already knows Q doesn’t work for the FBI, which means he won’t believe that we put her in the ground like Kingston had told every single person at the tournament.”
“We need to know why she’s so important,” Jack interjects.
“Agreed,” Dex announces, shifting his gaze back to mine.
Gritting my teeth, I stare darkly back at him. “I’ve already spoken with her. She doesn’t have any answers.”
Kingston leans forward and sets the cards aside, making sure he has my full attention. “Maybe I can help jog her memory.”
“I already told you that’s a terrible idea.”
“And I already told you that she doesn’t have a choice. And neither do you.”
Growing frustrated, I shake my head back and forth, but I’m careful to choose my words wisely. “She’s scared, King. She doesn’t respond well to men in general. There’s no way she’ll be able to answer your questions.”
“She seems to respond fine to you,” Kingston points out.
With a glare, I mirror Kingston’s position, resting my elbows on the table while reminding myself of my own self-preservation. You