Page 38 of Dark King (Advantage Play 2)

Gritting his teeth, he asks, “How?”

“Despite what you think you know, I don’t deal in the skin trade. It’s despicable. Vile. The lowest of the low. My father used to always believe in ignoring that side of the business and those who dabble in it. But since I’ve taken on his role, I can’t see a benefit to keeping them around.”

“Are you saying you want to work for the good guys?” Jack probes in disbelief.

D laughs loud and hard, throwing his head back and slapping his hand against his knee until tears are in his eyes. “I’m sorry, you have to be joking, right? Work for you? Bullshit. We’re talking about a fucking trade, Jack. Plain and simple.”

“And what are you wanting to trade, exactly?” a skeptical Jack returns.

“I need you to give me evidence that Burlone Allegretti is working for the FBI.”

His brows pinch in the center before looking between Ace, me, and D. “But he’s—”

“Shh,” I tsk as if I were talking to a little kid, an arrogant grin firmly in place. “If you can get me the evidence I need, I’ll deliver the top four human traffickers to you in a handbasket.”

“Four? I thought there were five.”

“There won’t be by the time I’m finished with him.”

With a shake of his head, Jack leans back into the booth and crosses his arms over his chest. “I can’t be involved with murder.”

“You’re already involved with murder by not helping us. And rape. And kidnapping. And every other despicable crime out there. It really is that simple.”

He swallows, his skin turning slightly pale while I spell it out for him. D keeps taking bites of his breakfast, munching happily on his breakfast potatoes and eggs while we wait for Jack to say something.

Rubbing his brow, Jack admits, “I don’t know what you want me to say right now. I’m not a traitor.”

Ace leans forward, her soft voice hushed but urgent. “We’re not asking you to be a traitor, Jack. We’re asking you to help us weed out an evil man who has hurt too many people during his measly existence. And if I’m being totally honest? I’m not asking; I’m begging. Please. If you don’t do this, I’ll never find my best friend, and Kingston’s sister will be lost forever in a torturous hell that should never exist. Please.” Her eyes are shining with unshed tears that nearly buries the heartless bastard I’ve become. This girl is the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I hate that I wasn’t there to protect her from experiencing the hell she just described firsthand.

Jack continues to stare at my girl from across the table until breaking his gaze and turning to me. “I need Burlone.”

“You can’t have him.”

“You don’t understand,” Jack argues. “My entire operation has been to bring Burlone down.”

“He’ll be taken care of, and I can assure you it’ll be with a hell of a lot more justice than the judicial court can offer,” I add with a cold, hard stare.

My comment makes him pause. I can see the wheels turning in his head as he considers his options. Ace’s leg bounces beneath the table, and I smile when my hand brushes against her skintight jeans, instantly calming her.

Shifting in his seat, Jack rests against the tabletop and leans closer. “You can get me the other four?”

“Yes.”

“When do you need it?”

“By tomorrow morning.”

Jack fails to hide his surprise. “And you think I can work that fast?”

“You’ll have to,” I reply, staring him down.

“And when will I get my handbasket?”

D laughs again, but I ignore him and answer Jack’s question. “Tomorrow night.”

Our eyes remain locked as I watch Jack weigh the pros and cons for a solid minute. He’s close to cracking. I can feel it. From my periphery, Ace’s attention bounces between the two of us, waiting to see what the verdict will be.

“Then it seems I have some work to do. Obviously, you know how to reach me if you need anything else.” Jack’s lips form a thin line, not too pleased with the way we used his feelings for Ace against him.

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