Page 82 of Kings Against the World

“You sure as hell do stand on your own, don’t you, Oz?” he drawls, taking a few seconds to puff on his cigar. “Matter of fact, you stand so much on your own, your club doesn’t even know you’re here, do they?”

My jaw hardens glaring at him, though he’s right and he knows it.

“What’s the problem, Oz? Didn’t want ’em to know about your little addiction? Didn’t want ’em to know you’re in the hole to me for almost a mil? I’ve been a patient man. I’ve let you come to my tournament to gamble back what you owe—so long as you went along with my plan. But you couldn’t even do that right. So how’s being on your own working out for you?

“’Cuz from where I’m standing, I’ve gotta tell you. It doesn’t seem to be working out too great. Who knows?” He smashes the lit end of his cigar in the ashtray on the coffee table beside us, his cockiness rolling off him in waves. “Maybe they might find out what one of their fellow Kings has been up to. Maybe Rollins and I will come knocking. You remember Rollins, don’t you? He’s got a bone or two to pick with you and your club.”

“Whatever bone he’s got to pick can be settled during club business,” I say. “That’s not what we’re in Vegas for. We’re supposed to be here to play a tournament, right? Unless you’re going back on your word, Ace.”

“That’s rich, Oz.I’mthe one going back on my word? Not you or your little sneak of a girlfriend?” He gestures to where Zoe’s crumpled on the couch, watching all of us like a silent but furious hawk. It makes Boone chuckle and shake his head as he reaches into the band of his jeans and withdraws a pistol. “Tell you what,” he says. “How about you’re gonna start talking real fast. You’re going to tell me just what the fuck’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on. That’s your paranoia at play. I’ve told you to keep your hands off my girl and I meant it.”

Boone turns to Wheels. “Are Steel Kings always this fucking irritating?”

Wheels gives his first real reaction, his expression darkening. “They got me locked up for ten to life. Irritating is one way to put it.”

“Then maybe we should share the honors. You put some bullets in Oz. I’ll handle his little lying plaything.”

“Don’t fucking touch her!” I growl as Boone snatches up Zoe all over again.

But as I step toward him, Wheels snaps to his feet. He inserts himself between us, pulling out a piece of his own.

Tension shoots to my jaw as I clench hard and debate if the bullet would slow me done enough before I reached Boone. I’ll gladly take a few if it means Boone keeps his fucking hands off Zoe.

Boone plays up the moment. He cocks back the hammer and then presses the pistol against the side of Zoe’s head.

“Now,” he says slowly, “you’ve got about sixty fucking seconds to come clean… or the floor’s not gonna be so clean. ‘Cuz your girl’s brains will be splattered everywhere.”

Zoe forgets to stay in character. Instead of trembling or cowering in fear, she stands boldly in Boone’s hold. Her face is a stoic slate lacking any real emotion. She’s tense, so still I wouldn’t be surprised if she disarms him herself and blows the rest of the lid off this cover.

If there was any way we could make it out this casino without having to fight Boone’s whole crew, it would be worth it.

Wheels has the gun on me as I direct my attention to Boone and demand he keep this between us.

“I said sixty seconds twenty seconds ago. You’ve got forty now.”

“Alright!” I yell. “You want the truth? You want to know who the snitch was? It was me! I was the fucking snitch! I was the one feeding info back.”

Boone pauses for a second, regarding me in silence. He keeps the pistol against Zoe’s head as he thinks on it. Then he’s back to his gruff laughter, the sound filling up the private room.

“You realize what you’ve just told me, right?” he asks. “The only way you’d confess to that is if you were protecting her. She’sthe snitch. Just like I knew that night in Houston. I should’ve had your throat slit that night in the alley, doll face.”

His finger wraps around the trigger. My pulse explodes in my veins as I prepare myself to leap over Wheels and knock Boone down.

“NO!” I shout. “SHE’S GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!”

But my shouts are drowned out no more than a second later. Feet pound the corridor outside, then round the corner. A large group of men flood the room with weapons already drawn, dressed in bullet proof vests that read: Las Vegas Police Department.

“EVERYBODY GET YOUR HANDS UP IN THE AIR!” one of the men booms. “Drop the weapons and get your hands up in the air! This is a bust!”

22

ZOE

“You areall good to go. No serious injuries. Just a few bumps and scratches.” The penlight flickers as the paramedic shines it in my left eye then my right. His fingers are warm against my cheek before he pulls back and slips the light into his pocket. “You might be sore tomorrow, but nothing too serious.”

I nod and slide off the back of the ambulance. My feet feel shaky as I touch the asphalt, like the ground is rotating beneath me. I flex my fingers at my sides, trying to shake off the numbness crawling up my arms.

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