Page 58 of Dark King (Advantage Play 2)

“Answer the question.”

Beady eyes narrowing, he assesses me. I know what he’s looking for. Weakness. Uncertainty. Fear.

I show him nothing.

“Watch your back, Kingston,” he divulges cryptically. “Someone has a target on it.”

“Who.” It’s a question, even though I’ve voiced it as a statement.

He sneers. “Who doesn’t?”

Patience obliterated, I grab the handle in his leg from Ace’s switchblade and twist it deeper into his thigh muscle.

His curse is loud and shrill as he drops his head back and looks toward the ceiling.

“I don’t know who it is! I don’t know!”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“He never reached out to me,” he pants, breathing through the unbearable pain. “I only heard Vince mention him once, but he never said a name. That’s all I know. I swear that’s all I know!”

Satisfied with his response, I withdraw the switchblade and toss it onto the cement floor near the corner of the room. The clang of it hitting my target echoes through the room before an eerie silence replaces it.

“And what did Vince say?”

“Not enough. Obviously.”

“Tell me.” I step forward, and the bastard flinches in response.

“Your shipment dates. Your contacts in Congress. Little things.”

“And what were you going to do with the information?”

“Nothing.”

My face stays blank, while my mind reels. “Nothing?”

Shaking his head, he divulges, “I didn’t ask for the information. I had no use for it. Well, other than the location of your warehouses. But that plan didn’t exactly pan out the way I’d planned, now did it? Regardless, you and I have never been competition. You were merely an inconvenience for me.”

“And getting rid of your body will be an inconvenience for me,” I quip. With my shirt soaked in crimson from another hour of torture, I roll up my sleeves then pick up a Glock from the cabinet.

“Any final words, Burlone?”

“Go to hell,” he spits through a mouthful of blood. The bruises around his eyes nearly swallow his beady pupils, and the image is nothing short of perfection.

“See you there.” Pressing the gun to his forehead, I pull the trigger without hesitation. Ace watches me end Burlone’s life, looking numb until I drop my gun-wielding hand to my side. Rushing toward me, she wraps her arms around me and takes a few slow, steady breaths before whispering, “Thank you. Thank you for saving me. For ending him. For everything.”

Gently, I lean forward and press a kiss to her lips. She’s never tasted sweeter.

“You’re welcome, Ace.”

Ushering her outside, the sun glowing brighter and brighter, I pull out my phone and send a quick message to Stefan.

Me: Need a cleaning crew.

Stefan: Done.

“So, what now?” Ace asks, snuggling into my side.

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