Page 87 of Protect Your Queen

“That might be harder than you think.” Lea looked down the hall, as an angry Dryden stormed down, his fists at his side, his too-long sleeves grazing his knuckles as he stormed past.

“Mr. Dryden,” Lea grabbed at his sleeve, but he pushed her off.

I wasn’t going to go so easily. I followed the man as he entered the studio. He slammed the door on my shoe as I tried to get in. That fucking hurt.

But I got inside, planting myself near the glass, as the man slammed the door shut and locked it.

“You say a god damn word, and I will kill you,” Dryden said to me.

His hand disappeared up his sleeve, and I couldn’t tell if he was holding something. My finger itched to grab the gun from the holster on my back.

He turned to Stasia and glared, as Jestiny came to her feet, her stubborn jaw set as she looked at the large man with challenge in her eyes.

“She’s not good enough,” Dryden said, his eyes bleary with what I could only presume was drink. “Hell, she would never have gotten this far if she hadn’t… if she hadn’t…”

“Hadn’t what?” Stasia Dryden uncrossed her legs and stood, standing in front of Jestiny, with her pointed chin thrust forward. “Please, tell me what it was that got this talented girl into her rightful place. Tell me whyyoudidn’t want to sign her.”

“She… she…”

“I turned him down.” She was answering Stasia, but she looked right at me. “He never touched me.”

She bit her lower lip, her eyes pleading for me to believe her.

“I know,” I mouthed, and Itriedto smile. I needed her to know that we were okay. The two of us. We were fine. We’d get through this together.

Stasia just raised her hand, palm out in a stopping command, to silence everyone.

“Good for her, if that was the case,” she snorted. “I don’t blame the girls you’ve cheated with. I don’t blame them for saying yes whenyouused your power to threaten and coerce them. I blameyou.”

Stasia pointed an accusing finger at Dryden as my hand itched to pull the gun tucked at the back of my belt. I even started to lift my blazer to the side, swinging my hand under the cloth, ready to pull it from its holster.

“You know what happens when we divorce, don’t you?” She tilted her head, her bangs slanting over her paper-white brow. “You get nothing.”

“Stasia… don’t… we can workthis out.”

“We can’t,” she said, her eyes cold as ice. “Oh, sweetheart. It’s notjustthat I find you reprehensible, and disgusting. You were always that way throughout our sham of a marriage. It’s that you are also, now, bad for business. I can divorce you and cut you out like a tumor. If I keep you around, then…”

He lifted his hand, and I caught sight of a small, single-action revolver in his thick, meaty palms.

“We can work it out,” Michael Dryden said through clenched teeth.

My gun came out, one was in the chamber, the safety off, pointed right at the side of his head, the barrel of it touching his temple.

“I suggest you put it down,” I said with a calm I most certainly did not feel.

“Who fucking cares,” he said, his elbow flexing as he pushed the gun out and in, as if he could push the bullet out without squeezing the trigger. I kept my eyes on it, waiting for the slightest change in tension that would show he was ready to fire. The hammer wasn’t cocked back, which was theonlyreason his brains weren’t painting the opposite wall.

That, and it would deafen all of us who were in the room.

Though maybe I should just kill him now…

“You can’t leave me, Stasia,” Dryden said. “Not for this little blackmailing bitch.”

“Ah, let me guess, caught with your pants down?” She laughed, and it was a grating sound because she was antagonizing a man with a fucking gun. “Oh my God… that’s it, isn’t it? I can see it in your pathetic, little face. You poor excuse of a man. Was this when she was Miss Idol? You were outwitted and rejected by a seventeen-year-old? You stupid, sad, pathetic excuse for a man…”

“Shut up! Shut up! I’m the one with a gun here, you should shut up!”

I was agreeing with Dryden on that score. I really wanted Mrs. Dryden to stop talking.

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