Page 32 of Dark King (Advantage Play 2)

“Of course they did,” I grit out. “It’s Burlone’s fucking casino. They come and go as they please.”

“Watch your tone, Connelly.”

Releasing a heavy sigh, I offer my apology. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m as frustrated as you are. Like I’ve already told you, one of my guys was outside watching the front, but apparently, he didn’t see anything.”

“Sounds like laziness to me.”

With flaring nostrils, I search for an ounce of patience but seem to be running low. “It wasn’t laziness. His men know how to blend in when they want to. They know how to fly under the radar. Why do you think they’re always slipping through our fingers?”

“Not our fingers, Jack. Your fingers. And if you can’t bring me something soon, I’m pulling you off the case.”

I slam my hand against the wall in my shitty apartment, but it does little to ease my frustration. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“One more curse from your mouth, and there’ll be consequences,” my boss returns.

I sigh and release my clenched fist before sitting on the edge of the mattress in my room. “Look, I’m sorry, sir. Again. We just need a break in this case. Soon.”

“Finally, we agree on something,” my superior murmurs, grating on my nerves. “Every day you come up empty-handed is another day those women aren’t afforded their revenge. It’s another day scum like Burlone are left on the streets and continue the shit they do. I’ve got my superiors breathing down my neck for justice, and I’m sick of telling them that we don’t have shit, Jack. Sick and tired.”

“Me, too,” I add as the ever-present weight of my job digs into my shoulders a little more.

“Then get me those bastards, and get me those innocent girls.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up the phone and lie back onto the bed while staring up at the popcorn textured ceiling.

The question is…how?

Chapter Seventeen

Ace

It’s been hours since D drove his brother home then holed himself up in Kingston’s office. The two have been going at it with the door closed, trying to work the final kinks from their plan. Pacing the hall in front of his locked door, I finally slam my hands against it.

“This whole no-women thing is bullshit! Open up, Kingston! Let me help!”

Resting my head against the solid oak door, I wait for their verdict. The muffled voices go silent for a solid thirty seconds before the thick piece of wood squeaks on its hinges, and an amused smirk appears on D’s face.

“Why, hello, Ace. Fancy seeing you here.”

With a roll of my eyes, I shove him aside and step into the man cave. “So, what’s going on? What’s the new tidbit of information? And how can I help?”

A stressed Kingston crooks his finger at me, and I saunter over before plopping in his lap and kissing him lazily.

“You okay?” I can feel his stress as if it’s my own.

His fingers squeeze softly against my jean-clad thigh. “Yeah. We’ve been working on something. We just need to play our cards right.”

“Speaking of which,” D interrupts. “King, what does she know?”

“Not much,” he admits, appearing contrite. I turn in his lap and stare him down.

“I can help. You just need to fill me in. Plus, if we’re talking about playing cards, then I’m your woman,” I tease in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Leaning forward, King gives me another soft kiss before releasing a sigh against my lips. “We’ve been having discussions with a few of the men who are invited to the tournament. These men are scum, Ace, but they’re also superstitious fuckers who don’t trust anyone. For the past week or so, D and I have been proposing the possibility of Burlone working with the Feds.”

With my jaw on the floor, I screech, “Burlone is working with the Feds?”

---