Page 20 of Wild Card (Advantage Play 1)

“I’m fine, but I gotta go.” I sneak another glance at Kingston, who appears to be made of stone. His eyes are a green inferno, pinning me in place. His muscles hidden beneath his tailored suit are coiled and ready for confrontation. And his fists are clenched at his sides in anger. If I hadn’t been analyzing him so closely for the last hour, I probably wouldn’t notice how upset he looks in this moment, though it’s obvious to me now. Or maybe he wants me to see his disapproval. Regardless, I add, “If I were you, I’d find a different casino to play at for a little while. Bye, Jack.”

And with that, I rush toward the parking lot to make my escape.

Chapter Nine

Kingston

“Reggie,” I call to one of my soldiers as he sits with a bag of Cheetos in his lap while watching reality television on a laptop in the security room. The walls are lined with monitors that display different views of the casino along with a few choice rooms in the basement. One of which is the room I just left Ace in. I watch in fascination as Ace tucks a strand of her long, dark hair behind her ear before looking around the empty room. The disbelief painted on her face tells me how surprised she is that I’m letting her go. Rubbing her hands along her bare arms, she takes a few cautious steps to the door before peeking down the hallway to find it empty. Like a little mouse, she scurries to the elevator and presses the up button.

The sound of Reggie munching another Cheeto snaps me out of my reverie, and I turn to him.

“Acely Mezzerich.”

“What about her?” he asks, looking at the screens to see her talking with the pit boss who hit her once she’s back on the main floor. My hands clench into fists as I remember the swelling along her delicate cheekbone. He’ll pay for that. The Romano family doesn’t hit women. We’re taught to treat them with respect, and apparently, he needs another reminder. I see him hand her a fat stack of chips, and my mouth lifts in approval. The asshat knows he screwed up and is rectifying it the only way he knows how. If only it were enough to get back into my good graces.

I catch Reggie assessing me curiously and tell him, “I need you to follow her. There’s a possibility she’s being watched and doesn’t even know it. We need to keep her safe until she’s served her purpose.”

“And after that?”

My throat tightens. “We’ll see.”

Chapter Ten

Dex

“Why you worried, man? Stop being a pussy,” Sei mutters while balancing an unlit cigarette between his lips. Reaching for his lighter, he brings it to his mouth and lights the end.

The warm glow reflects off his face and makes Sei look even more sinister than usual.

“I’m not worried,” I argue. “I just want to make sure we have everything in order. With the Feds sniffing around, we can’t afford to make any mistakes.”

He blows the acrid smoke from his mouth as he gets ready to give me the usual talk. The one where he says I have a stick up my ass, and I need to let loose every once in a while. The one that grinds on my gears. “Naw. I think you’re full of shit. How do we even know the Feds are sniffing around anyway? We haven’t seen ‘em. Ever since Burlone took us under his wing when we were kids, you’ve always been the one with a stick up your ass.”

Aaand there it is.

I don’t bother to respond. It’s the same shit, different day.

“What? Nothing to say, Dex? Cat got your tongue?” He squeals in laughter like he’s a fucking comedian.

Keeping my mouth shut, I lean back in my chair and wait for our boss to finally show up. We’ve been sitting in Burlone’s office for almost an hour, ready for him to give us our orders for the night. But he better hurry up because I’m ten seconds away from strangling Sei.

Again…same shit, different day.

“So, you gonna take the new shipment in for a test drive before we hand it over? I mean, Burlone says we’re gonna have to lie low for a while after. This might be your last chance to finally lose your virginity.” He smirks widely, showcasing his stained teeth.

It’s these types of conversations that make me feel like the star in Groundhog Day, living the same shitty existence over and over again. By some miracle, I ignore him, choosing to stare at the back wall instead, but he keeps pushing. “Dude. For real, though. How come you never have any fun? We’re fucking untouchable, man.” I watch as he raises his arms from his sides to emphasize his point.

“We’re not untouchable. If we were, we wouldn’t be using the Romanos as a scapegoat.”

“Aw, come on. We’re not using them as a scapegoat. We’re just putting them in their place. That’s all.”

I release a sigh of frustration, feeling like I want to pound my head against a brick wall in lieu of continuing this conversation. Both options will do about the same amount of good.

Thankfully, Burlone storms into his office, saving me from further explanation.

“Sei. I need you to pick up two more apples by the end of the week. I don’t care what they look like, just get them to the drop off point by Thursday.”

Apples are a code name for any common girl off the street. Grapes mean someone younger; watermelons mean a woman with curves. Passion fruit means that they need to be attractive. You’d be surprised how rarely Burlone orders passion fruit. He’s more of a quantity versus quality kind of guy.

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