by Kelsie Rae
“It is if they’ve got incriminating evidence against you like your former soldier just stated,” Mr. Carbonne pipes in while crossing his arms over his large, round chest. “It makes sense for you to work out a deal with the Feds to help them gather evidence against your associates instead of arresting you. Selfish, Burlone. But smart. If you hadn’t been caught.”
Burlone rolls his eyes. “That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. What kind of evidence do you have? You can’t honestly believe the high and mighty Romano family over one of your own?”
Another man interrupts next to Kingston. He’s got to be almost sixty years old and looks like an old bulldog, his jowls hanging off his face. “Interestingly, I would normally agree with you, Burlone. But then I heard from one of my associates who informed me of a little incident a few weeks ago. One where you had set up a drop-off on Kingston’s turf but didn’t show up with the women. However, the Feds did know where you were meeting and were there to greet him. The only reason my associate didn’t get caught was because the Romano family stepped in and screwed up your plans. I assume that’s why you personally named Kingston Romano in the email invitation to this tournament. To incriminate him when we all know he’s never been one to dabble in the skin trade. You wanted to use the email against him in a court of law.”
This was the night Kingston warned me to stay home. It was the night I snuck out to meet Ace at Dottie’s. It was the night I was kidnapped.
“This is all hearsay. There’s no proof,” Burlone defends, but I can feel the tide turning in our favor. I think everyone can.
“And if there was proof?” Kingston interrupts the conversation, taking control of the room with a simple question.
Do they have proof? What kind of proof? What the hell is going on?
Burlone’s face gets splotchy and red. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, playing right into Kingston’s hands. “I-it’s not possible.”
“I’m going to have to respectfully disagree, my friend.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dex
With a snap of Kingston’s fingers, I stalk closer and put my gun to Burlone’s head, ensuring he doesn’t move. Damn, it feels good. Lifting his hand, Kingston covers his girlfriend’s as it rests on his shoulder. The touch is intimate, proving his feelings for her. When Burlone sees it, he practically vibrates with anger while I vibrate with guilt for beating the shit out of her two weeks ago.
“Hey, Wild Card,” Kingston murmurs. “Can you excuse me for a minute?”
She smiles nervously, then takes a slow step back and lets him scoot out of his chair. Rounding the table, Kingston rests his hip against the black felt top of the poker table and towers over Burlone. Every single person watches his movements with rapt attention, and if Kingston were anyone else, I’m certain he’d crumble from the pressure.
“Do you know what we do to traitors, Burlone?”
“I’m not a fucking traitor, Kingston,” Burlone spits. I press the barrel of the gun harder into his temple to remind him of his place.
“Well, let’s see what our fellow associates have to say then, shall we?” Kingston looks around the table. “Gentlemen? If you think this man deserves to die a slow and painful death, raise your hand. If you don’t, then I’ll let him go, you’ll pay for your women, and we’ll play the tournament as if this never happened.”
I don’t move a muscle as I look around the room to see if the sorry sacks of shit have bought our lie. Slowly, one after another, hands are raised into the air.
All except one.
Fucking Russo. I shouldn’t be surprised. Out of everyone here, he’s always had the closest relationship with Burlone. They’ve never had a problem seeing eye to eye on things, and if anyone were ever to replace Burlone, it’d be him.
“There a problem, Mr. Russo?” Kingston asks with a bored expression.
“I’ve seen your evidence,” he begins. “I’ve seen the official FBI letterhead with his picture on it. But I know Burlone, and I’m having a hard time believing what you’ve shown me. I think you’ll need to give me a bit more proof before I can condemn someone I once considered a friend to a traitorous death.”
I open my mouth to interject when a feminine voice distracts me.
“Burlone?”
All heads swivel in the same direction where the other passion fruit, Sei’s particular favorite, squares her shoulders. “Do you know what the FBI does to traitors?”
A ghost of a smile graces my lips before I cover it with indifference as the room goes deathly silent.
Good girl, I think to myself. Throw him to the wolves. Watch him burn for what he did to you. What he did to all of you.
Glaring at Burlone, she continues, “We toss them back to their own kind, letting them fend for themselves.”
Burlone shifts in his seat before gritting out, “What the fuck are you talking about, bitch? Shut your filthy mouth before I make you.”
“Shhh,” she tsks as if she were talking to a toddler. The lifeless girl from the car has been replaced with a confident woman who oozes disgust from every pore on her porcelain complexion. My chest swells with pride.
“I’m an undercover agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and we had a deal. As soon as you found a buyer for me, and the transaction went through, we’d storm the castle, throw your friends in jail, and you’d be off the hook. However, there was one condition I had. Do you remember what it was?”
Burlone opens his mouth to answer, but I slam the butt of my handgun into the back of his head, making his neck snap forward and his chin drop to his chest. In a daze, he shakes his head, so the girl answers for him.
“You guaranteed my protection. You told me I wouldn’t be touched. But I was…countless times. And now, your associates know the truth. You’re a traitor, and I hope they make you pay for it slowly and in the most painful way possible.”
Burlone sputters, “I-if you were an FBI agent, why would you out yourself in a room full of mafia bosses?”
She shrugs. “I’m dead, anyway. Might as well take one asshole who’s a liar down with me for what he did. Mr. Russo, you said you wanted proof. Now, you have it. He’s a traitor who was plotting against all of you with my team to save his own skin. If I weren’t guaranteed to be dead by the end of this conversation, I’d give you physical evidence as a nice little cherry on top. But for now, you’ll have to take my word for it.”
The room floods with questions from everyone, buzzing at a pitch that is almost unrecognizable until Mr. Russo straightens his tie then turns to Kingston. “And now, you have my vote. Gut the poor bastard. And she’s right. Make it slow. Make it hurt. Make him pay for being a rat.”
“With pleasure.” Kingston smiles. “Unfortunately, my utility bag is at home, and we don’t know how long we have until the Feds storm the castle, as the undercover agent so eloquently stated, so I think we’ll be going. Dex?”
“Yeah?” I answer.
“I’m going to need you to escort her to my car too.” He tilts his head toward the girl who saved the day. The order seems to put the rest of the room at ease with the promise of her demise. In reality, he won’t be touching a hair on her head. Not after everything she just did for us. Without her, Mr. Russo wouldn’t have been swayed, and we’d all be dead.
“Done.” Slamming the gun against Burlone’s head with more force than the previous time, his body slumps in his chair. Satisfied he won’t be waking up anytime soon, I reach into my suit pocket and pull out a set of zip ties before placing them around Burlone’s slackened wrists and ankles. I turn to the pseudo-FBI girl, wishing I’d bothered to ask her name before now, and try to keep up the ruse by asking, “Do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”
With tears in her eyes, she whispers, “I’m done fighting. It never did me much good, anyway.”
Nodding, I toss an unconscious Burlone over my shoulder, then reach for her handcuffs and pull her toward the back entrance t
hat leads to my car. I’ll be back for Regina in a second.
The sound of Mr. Carbonne’s voice is cut off when the heavy door closes with a thud.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dex
The car is tense as we drive to Kingston’s estate. Regina is sitting in the front seat, looking beautiful yet exhausted at the same time. My jaw tightens as I examine the blossoming bruise on her face that Sei gifted her with while I was helping the other passion fruit out of the car earlier this evening.
Gently, I run my finger across it another time, and she looks over at me. “It doesn’t hurt, Dex. I promise. Stop beating yourself up about it. We made it out of there, and that’s all that matters.”
Regina must sense my unease because she puts her hand on top of mine before lacing our fingers and resting them in her lap. “Seriously, Dex. I’m fine. We can play doctor later, and you can bring me back to health, okay?” She winks for good measure, fizzling out a bit of the guilt rolling in my stomach.
“Deal.”
As I accelerate, Burlone’s body rolls around in the trunk, making me smile until I remember to check my rearview mirror. The girl I was supposed to protect––but failed to do so––sits in the back by herself with her arms wrapped around her chest, staring blankly out the window. Again.
With an unsure voice, Regina turns in her seat and asks, “Hey. Are you okay?”
I’m not surprised when the girl doesn’t answer.
“I’m Regina. I was taken two weeks ago. Just like you. What’s your name?”
Not bothering to give us her full attention, the girl whispers, “Quenna. You can call me Q.”
“Can I ask you something, Q?” Regina probes.
“Sure.”
“Do you really work for the FBI?”
I watch as her tongue darts out from between her lips, and she looks over at me through the rearview mirror. “Will you think I’m lying if I say no?”
She isn’t asking Regina. She’s asking me. And I already know the answer. There’s no way in hell she’s working for the Feds. Or at least…I don’t think so. Regardless, it doesn’t matter. She saved us back there, and I won’t forget it.
“No, Q. I won’t think you’re lying,” I reply, turning my attention back to the winding road as we make our way to Kingston’s estate.
“Then I guess you have your answer.”
“But why lie to those men?” I prod. I’m happy she did it, but I can’t help but search for an explanation when I have so many questions.
“Because I was going to die, anyway. Might as well make Burlone join me, right?”
Next to me, Regina laughs. “Amen, Q. Maybe my brother will let us get in a few good swings with a baseball bat before he finishes Burlone off. What do you say to that?”
And for the first time since I’ve met her, I see Q smile. “I think that sounds fan-freaking-tastic.”
As we pull up to the house, Ace rushes toward us and swings the passenger door open on my car before practically tackling Regina with hugs.
“G! I’ve missed you so much! I can’t believe you’re Kingston’s sister! I had no idea. Neither of us did. Your brother thought it was hilarious, by the way. Are you okay? I couldn’t find you. I’ve been freaking out. I’m so glad you’re here.” The words keep tumbling out of her as she squeezes the shit out of my Little Bird.
With a soft laugh, Regina returns her embrace. “I’ll be okay, Ace. And I’m glad my brother doesn’t want to shoot me for putting all of you through the wringer.”
“You’ll be fine. Promise. Come on.” Ace grabs her hand and starts to lead her into the house when Regina stops her.
“I’ll be right there. Do you think you could take Q in for me?”
Ace tilts her head before registering Queena in the back.
“Oh. Hi. I’m Ace. And you’re Q?”
Q stares blankly out the window, not bothering to respond. She does that a lot.
Tossing a wide-eyed look of helplessness our way, Ace hesitantly opens the back door and offers her hand. “Come on, Q. Let’s get you inside and out of those cuffs and dress.”
Apparently, the promise of freedom is enough to get Q moving. She slides out of the car and follows Ace inside, leaving me alone with my girl.
“Alright, babe, let’s get you out of these cuffs.” I reach for the keys in my pocket that I’d swiped from Sei and unlatch the locks with ease as Regina watches my every movement. Once she’s free, we head toward the front door in silence, and I can tell something is bothering her.
“Guess it’s time to face my brother, huh?” Regina states sadly.
I stop her from entering the house and turn her around until we’re chest to chest. “What’s wrong, Little Bird?”
“I don’t know how much you know about me,” she hedges. “But I was pretty much bred to be a bargaining chip with another family. Combining bloodlines and all that.” She waves her hand in the air while a light sheen of tears gathers in her eyes.
“I may have heard that,” I confirm, watching her closely.
“I’ve been a brat to Kingston my entire life. Between my disappearance, and my future, I’m a little freaked out to talk to him. Especially when I tell him what I want.” Looking up at me, she whispers, “I’m terrified he’ll say no.”
“And what do you want, Little Bird?”
Her heels are busy kicking a few pebbles across the pavement before she peeks up at me. “What do you think I want?”
I shake my head. “That’s not what I asked. You’re allowed to have your own opinions. Your own wants. Your own needs.”
With a gulp, she probes, “There’s only one thing I want and need, Dex. And after the hell I’ve been through, I’m pretty sure you can guess what it is. I think the real question is, do you want it too?”
“I put my life on the line for you, Little Bird. You’re my oxygen, remember? But you’re right. Your brother holds all the cards right now and hiding out here isn’t going to give us our answer. We need to be brave. Together. We’ve already been through more than anyone should ever have to endure. I think we can make it past your brother’s verdict too.”
Her hand is trembling as she lifts it and touches the side of my face, piercing me with her hypnotic eyes. “I think I’m in love with you, Dex. No matter what my brother says in there, that’s not going to change, okay? I just…I need you to know that.”
Bending closer, I brush my lips against hers then whisper, “Have a little faith, Regina. It’s going to work out.”
“You don’t know how awful I was to him. How much harder I made his life just because I was grieving and thought he didn’t care—”
“Regina. Give your brother a little more credit. It’s going to be fine,” I reiterate.
“How can you be so sure?”
With a confident smirk, I razz, “‘Cause he owes me.”
My sarcasm is enough to break her somber attitude, and she responds by smacking me in the chest.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Then, she heads to the front door while I trail behind, enjoying the view of her round ass in a tight red dress.
“Like what you see?” she calls over her shoulder.
“Maybe,” I throw back at her before rushing up the steps and grabbing her hand. Together, we walk through the expansive foyer and toward Kingston’s office. Because I know that with her by my side, we can get through anything.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Diece
I can’t take my eyes off the girl who’s clinging to Ace’s hand like it’s a lifeline. Soft blonde hair, sexy black dress, perfectly polished complexion. There are remnants of discolored skin on her upper arm along with what looks like the shadow of a bruise below her right eye, but I can’t be sure unless I get a closer look.
I’ve been watching her for the past five minutes while the room is blanketed in silence as we all wait for Dex and Regina to join us. As the time ticks by, I’ve decided I could do it for an eternity, and it still w
ouldn’t be enough. The way she lets her hair hang down, covering the side of her face, pretending it’s a barrier between her and the outside world. The way her hands are trembling, but she tries to cover it up by clenching them into tight little fists. The way her eyes keep darting to mine before staring down at the hardwood floor like it’s the most fascinating thing on the planet.
Everything. Everything about her is mesmerizing. As if she’s a puzzle piece I can’t quite place. Which is ironic because that’s exactly what she is.
How the hell we ended up with her in Kingston’s house is beyond me, and I’m anxious to be filled in. I assume she’s Ace’s missing friend, Gigi, but I don’t know why she’s down here waiting to speak with King and the rest of the family when, if she were simply Ace’s friend, she’d already be tucked away in the guest room to recover from her ordeal. Or at least, that’s what I would guess, anyway.
From the corner of my eye, a flash of movement demands my attention. I’m on my feet and rushing toward Regina before she even steps into the room. Throwing my arms around her, I lift her up and give her a heavy hug that leaves her gasping for air.
She slaps my back and squeaks, “Let me go, you big oaf!”
With a laugh, I release her, and I’m joined by Stefan and Lou, who both pull her into their own embraces too.
“How are you doing, Regina? King has a doctor on call in case you need it.”
She waves me off. “I’m fine, D. Promise. Your brother took good care of me.”
The casualness in which she brought him up is staggering, making me feel like I got sucker-punched. We still haven’t really addressed our familial ties other than a few offhand comments in the car that first day we met. I’m not sure if I’m ready to get into it in a room full of spectators.
