Page 93 of Bitter Queen (Advantage Play 4)

“I’m gonna kill—”

“Let Q have her shot first,” Dex reminds me. “Like you said, she’s earned it, remember?”

Her name snaps me back to reality, and I scramble toward her still unconscious body that’s surrounded by Stefan and Kingston, who are checking for a pulse before I shove them away and take their place beside her.

“She’s okay,” Kingston informs me.

“Bullshit,” I spit back at him. I know my anger is misplaced, but I can’t help it. Ignoring my guilt for a later day, I cup her bruised cheek and cradle her head in my lap. Her nose is broken and will have to be reset. Her eyes are nearly swollen shut with dark hues of purple and blue marring her perfect skin. But her lips are slightly parted as she breathes in and out in a steady rhythm that holds an ounce of hope.

“Q,” I murmur. The rage slowly seeps from my pores and is replaced with overwhelming helplessness that acts like a knife to my ribs. “Q, wake up.”

A soft moan slips out of her as she nuzzles into my touch. When her brows pinch in pain, my chest follows suit.

“Let’s get her out of here,” Kingston suggests. “We can help her more at home.”

With a lump in my throat, I nod and lift her into my arms, cradling her against me.

A satisfied Kingston turns to Dex and spits, “Make sure he’s secure, then put him in the trunk.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“Oh. And find Johnson’s laptop,” he adds.

Then we leave. I’m just not sure if it’s with my Q in my arms or the same broken girl I first met who refused to give me a chance.

Because I failed her.

I didn’t keep her safe.

And it’ll be my greatest regret for the rest of my life.

36

Q

“Hey,” a low voice murmurs, tugging at my memories. I know that voice. The sound pulls me from my deep sleep like I was doused in cold water.

My eyelids flutter open. The room is painted with soft light from the open balcony window. The familiar sight is like a balm to my frazzled emotions. I’m back at Kingston’s estate. I’m safe. I’m free. Which means he found me. He saved me.

“Hey,” D repeats with a soft smile. But the worry lines seem permanently etched between his brows as he inspects me closer. “How are you feeling?”

A light laugh escapes me, followed by a wince as a cut on my lip splits itself open.

That same concerned expression returns full force before he runs his massive palm along my forehead, pushing my hair away from it.

My voice is rusty from lack of use, but I muster up the effort and ask, “Do I look that bad?”

“You look like you had the shit kicked out of you,” he returns.

I laugh again before I’m tossed back into three seconds ago as another wince captures my amusement. “I feel like I got the shit kicked out of me.”

“What do you remember, Blue?”

“That I got the shit kicked out of me,” I reply sarcastically.

“Anything else?” he prods.

I know what he’s asking. I know what his greatest fears are. I know that they’re aligned with mine and that he’s probably been freaking out since the moment I went missing. And not just because Kingston ordered him to look after me, but because he’s my knight in shining armor. Just like in the movies. Well, except his shining armor is really an Armani suit, and his white steed happens to be a black Cadillac. But still.

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