Bitter Queen (Advantage Play #4) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,41
cheek and back. The tears dripping off her chin because it’s too much of an effort to wipe them away.
And it’s all because of Sei. He’s still out there. The bastard that hurt her is walking around. Free. The last of my restraint snaps. I pick up a glass from the table and chuck it against the wall. It shatters on contact but does nothing to stop me from unraveling.
I stare at the shattered glass for a few more seconds, then steady my breathing and head toward the stairs in search of Q. She deserves to know that her monster is still out there. I just don’t know how to break it to her.
And King’s right. If I’m going to be able to protect her, then we need answers.
My legs feel like lead as I trudge down the hallway toward her room. Tapping my knuckles against the cracked door, I wait for her to answer with my chin to my chest. A few seconds later, her trimmed fingernails peek through the small gap of the door before pulling it the rest of the way open. Her hair hangs wet around her shoulders, and she’s in a fresh set of clothes.
“Hi,” she greets me with pink cheeks as her gaze drops to the ground. Tight, dark jeans cling to her thighs while a sexy as hell white crop top lets her belly button play peek-a-boo. When she catches me staring, she tugs at the hem before I grab her wrist and stop her.
“You look gorgeous,” I tell her.
“You think?”
“Yeah.” A soft smile etches itself onto my face as she tucks her hair behind her ear and avoids holding my gaze. It’s almost enough to erase my conversation with King. But not quite.
“Where’d you get it?” I prod.
“Ace. She uh, she got some more clothes for me.”
“That was nice of her.”
Tucking her hands into her back pockets, she rocks back on her heels. “Yeah. It’s not something I’d normally pick out, but….”
“Do you like them?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
That same blush spreads down her neck before she peeks up at me and smiles. “Yeah. I think I do.”
“Then that’s all that matters.” Lifting her chin with the pad of my finger, I add, “King wants to talk with you.”
“Why?”
“Because we gotta figure out who’s looking for you, Q.”
Like a bucket of ice water has been dropped over her head, she gasps and rushes out, “No one’s looking for me.”
“And we believe otherwise.” Keeping my tone gentle, I prod, “Are you hiding something, Blue?”
She shakes her head back and forth, avoiding my gaze again. Only this time, I’m afraid it’s for an entirely different reason.
“Tell me,” I push.
“There’s nothing to tell. I don’t know who’s looking for me. I’m no one special, D.”
“And I beg to differ. Come on. Let’s get this over with.” With my hand against her lower back, I lead her to Kingston’s office. My steps are slow as I search for a way out of this. But there isn’t one.
King’s right. She’s hiding something. I just wish she trusted me enough to tell me what it is without Kingston getting involved.
The door to his office is open as we step inside. With his fingers steepled and his elbows resting against the desk, he taps his lips and inspects Q.
Like a raisin, she shrivels under his scrutiny and leans into my side.
Kingston quirks his brow but doesn’t comment on it as he orders, “Take a seat, Q.”
Shaking, she sits down on the edge of the cushioned chair across from Kingston then folds her hands in her lap.
“Look at me, Q,” Kingston demands, coolly.
Her trimmed fingernails dig into her palms, and her teeth bite into the inside of her cheek before she forces herself to look at him.
“It’s time we have a little chat.”
20
Q
I stay silent but hold his gaze and swallow back the bile that creeps up my throat. I am so freaking screwed.
“Who are you?” he demands.
“Queena.”
“And what’s your last name?”
“K-Kowalski.”
Satisfied, Kingston urges, “Do you have any family?”
I shake my head.
“No mother? No father?” Kingston prods.
Again, I shake my head.
“So you just miraculously appeared as a grown adult?” he challenges with a dry laugh. “Who raised you? Are they alive? If not, then how did they die? Do you have any grandparents? Siblings? I’m going to need details if we’re going to figure this out.”
My knee bounces up and down as I offer him a noncommittal shrug and deflect, “There’s nothing to figure out.”