Bitter Queen (Advantage Play #4) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,42
disagree. Listen, I want to make this as painless as possible for you.”
A low growl escapes D from beside me, cutting Kingston off. “Careful, Boss.”
Kingston’s intensity snaps to D before he leans back in his chair and raises his brows, practically begging D to confront him. “Something you’d like to add, Diece?”
“She’s scared.”
“She should be scared. She should be fucking petrified. Half the mob thinks she’s a Fed and is hunting for her head right now. Others are sniffing around, asking questions about her, and yet the one family offering to protect her seems to be the last to know the truth.” Turning to me, Kingston adds, “You need to start talking, Q. You don’t have a choice anymore.”
“I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t do this.”
Kingston’s expression stays calm and indifferent. But the truth stays the same. He’s my judge, jury, and executioner.
“Like I said, you have no choice.”
Desperate, I turn to Diece and reach for him. “D—”
“Do you want him to lose a hand right now, Q?” Kingston interjects, that same cool indifference oozing from every pore.
“What? No, I—”
“Because if you walk out that door, then that’s exactly what’s going to happen to him. Now, let me ask you one more time. Who. Are. Your. Parents?” He emphasizes each word by slamming his hand against his desk.
I flinch every single time before steadying my breathing and peeking up at a very pissed off D who’s practically vibrating with anger. He looks like he’s two seconds from snapping Kingston’s neck, and I can’t let that happen. Not when he’ll lose a freaking hand. Is Kingston serious? Would he really do that? He’s a mob boss. Of course, he’d do that. I can’t breathe.
Is it hot in here? How do I get out of this?
“Answer the question,” Kingston growls.
“Julia and Alek,” I choke out. “Both died in a car accident a few years ago. No grandparents or siblings.”
He nods his approval. “Do you have any misdemeanors? Felonies? Any run-ins with the law?”
“No,” I choke out again. My throat feels like it’s closing up as I try to focus on the scary-as-shit guy in front of me.
“What did you do for a living? Where did you work?”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“Answer the question.”
My knee could rival a jackhammer as my heart practically beats out of my chest. But he doesn’t understand. I can’t answer this question. I can’t.
Cocking his head to the side, Kingston inspects me closer before realizing how close he is to the truth. I can see it in his eyes.
“Now, Q,” he orders.
“I was a”—I release a shaky breath—“a nanny.”
“A nanny?”
“Y-yes,” I stutter.
“And why didn’t they file a missing person’s report when you didn’t show up to work the next day?”
“I don’t know,” I lie.
“Bullshit, Q. Answer the question.”
My lower lip quivers before I pull them into a thin line. He doesn’t understand. He’ll never understand. No one will.
“Now,” he prods.
The tears run down my cheeks as I turn to Diece and find him staring at me with a restrained curiosity that hits like a wrecking ball. He deserves the truth. They both do. But I can’t tell him—either of them. If I do, he’ll find out. He’ll find out, and he’ll kill me. I know it.
My face contorts with pain as I swallow back a sob and choke out, “Six.”
Diece’s eyes widen with understanding before he rubs his hand over his face. “Shit,” he curses under his breath. Standing to his full height, he towers over Kingston and announces, “That’s enough for today.”
“Bullshit, D. She’s hiding something.”
“She’s done––”
“And I don’t give a shit.” That same calm and collected tone filters through the air. “She does not leave this room until she answers my questions.”
“No. You’ve pushed her too far,” D argues, pulling me into his arms. Vibrating with anxiety, I cling to him like a lifeline. Like he’s my savior. My everything.
“And I will keep pushing until she starts talking,” Kingston replies. “Now, I order you to sit your ass back in that seat, or I’ll make what happened to Dex look like child’s play. This is not a game, D. And she is not a child. Stop coddling her.”
“You don’t understand––”
“I understand perfectly,” Kingston counters. His tone softens as he stares back at his best friend. “She’s not a job anymore. She means more to you. I get it, okay? But if you want to keep her safe, then you need to convince her that we aren’t the enemy. We’re her only fucking hope.” Then he turns to me