Black Jack (Advantage Play #5) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,49

the door’s still blissfully closed. If only that knowledge could ease my shame.

Jack can’t find out. Ever. If it weren’t for him, I might even have the courage to tell Dominic to go fuck himself, but the idea of Jack learning about my past and the dirty, unspeakable things I’ve done for money…I can’t let that happen.

Licking my lips, I whisper, “What do you want me to do?”

“What we’d already discussed before you considered turning your back on your own flesh and blood. I think Higgins might be our best bet.”

“He’s not––”

“A bad guy?” Dominic interrupts, dripping with condescension. “Yeah. I know. You’ve said that before. But he still decided to pay someone for sex, and for a man who’s supposedly happily married, a decision like that can have unfortunate repercussions, don’t you think?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate to disappear. “I don’t want to break up his marriage––”

“And I don’t give a shit. Higgins holds leverage in this world, Bianca. Enough leverage to get me out of here if you can persuade him to do so.”

This is insane.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I grit out, “Then what?”

“Then we both disappear with the money you collect from your previous clients.”

“And if I haven’t collected any yet?”

“What the hell have you been doing, then, Bianca? You know, I don’t wanna know. Just…I suggest you start,” he answers as if we’re discussing the weather. “Because if you don’t, you’ll be left with nothing but a dirty name and a target on your back.”

“I thought you said my marriage to Jack would keep me safe.”

“For a little while. But things happen, Bianca. Accidents happen. I’d hate to see one befall you.”

With my head in my hand and my elbows pressed to the top of the vanity’s edge, I replay his words in my head before a dark laugh slips out of me. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because we’re family.”

“And that makes it okay to blackmail your own sister?” I challenge.

“You’re the one who suggested I rot in prison for the rest of my life.”

“I didn’t––”

“Don’t deny it. You should know I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty, Bianca. Don’t push me. We clear?”

I sniff but swallow back the emotions that are threatening to strangle me. If I let them loose right now, he’ll simply find a way to twist them against me.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I murmur.

“Good. And Bianca?”

“Yes?”

“Run a few extra laps today, would you? You sound like you’re getting soft.”

Then the call goes dead.

And my hatred for him blazes hotter than ever.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull up Higgins’ number and type out a quick but vague message.

Me: Hey. We need to talk.

20

Jack

Beer in hand, I turn on ESPN in the family room. It’s on for background noise more than anything else because I can’t focus for shit. After my conversation with Kingston, anxiety has been eating away at my nerves, and I haven’t been able to find an antidote. And it doesn’t help that my new wife has been missing all day, either.

Where is she?

Scratching the scruff along my jaw, my eyes glazed with disinterest, I watch a basketball hit the backboard before falling into the hoop as the front door creaks open behind me.

I glance over my shoulder and find an exhausted Bianca with a bit of makeup smudged beneath her eyes.

“Hey, where have you been?” I sound like a new puppy that’s starved for affection, waiting at the door for their owner to come back home after a long day at work.

Fuck, I’m so pathetic.

Bianca tosses her keys onto the counter but avoids my gaze like she’s lost in her own head.

“Bianca?”

She flinches as she registers my voice before forcing a smile on her face. It doesn’t reach her eyes. “Sorry. Hey.”

“Where have you been?”

“Since when is that any of your business?”

Someone’s pissy this evening, I note to myself.

“It’s not,” I answer, carefully. “I guess I was just making conversation.”

Her frigid expression softens as she finally meets my gaze for the first time. I can feel her studying me, drinking in my weariness like it’s her own.

“What’s wrong, Jack?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmm.” Lips pursed, she rounds the edge of the couch, then sits on the cushion next to mine. Her hand grazes my fingers, plucking the beer bottle from my grasp before she takes a quick swig of the amber liquid while keeping her gaze glued to mine.

“You know, I’ve heard beer has a lot of hidden calories,” I point out.

“Mmhmm,” she hums.

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