Page 61 of Bitter Queen (Advantage Play 4)

“Alright. Dismissed.”

22

Q

My mind reels from the shitshow downstairs. First, my conversation with Kingston and Diece, then a familiar face from the past shows up to mess with me.

Coincidence? I think not.

What the hell is Will doing here? How is he here? Where’s Mr. Johnson? Does Reed know I’m here? And if he does know, is he coming for me? My breath hitches.

What am I supposed to do now?

Pacing the thickly-carpeted floor, I weave my fingers through my blue hair and tug on the roots, praying the bite of pain will bring an ounce of clarity.

It doesn’t work.

Replaying every possible outcome over and over again, I finally give up and collapse on my bed before holding my head in my hands.

And what about D? Did I just deliver a monster to his door? Not Will, obviously. But Reed? If he finds out I told D, he’ll kill him. My head won’t be the only one on the docket. D’s will be too. And I can’t let that happen.

A set of footsteps pique my curiosity as I continue to sit in my room, stewing in silence.

“Stay in here,” a low voice orders across the hall before retreating back down the stairs.

Head cocked, I wait for any other clues but don’t receive any. There’s a moment of silence before I tiptoe toward my door and open it a few more inches. The hallway is empty. With a deep breath, I venture into the unknown and raise my fist to tap on the door that’s opposite of mine.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Hello?” a little voice squeaks.

Chest aching, I push open the door. “Will?”

“Queena?”

His pre-teen body practically tackles me as he darts across the room and wraps his arms around my waist.

“Queena, where have you been? You disappeared. Dad said you quit—”

“I know, Will. I know.” Squeezing him tight, I fight back my tears, then slide to the ground and rest my back against the wall. Will follows suit and scoots beside me, leaving less than an inch of space between us.

“What are you doing here, bud?” I whisper as I take in his profile. I’ve only known him for a year or so, but when you’re with someone day in and day out, you start to know them better than yourself. His cheeks aren’t as full as they used to be, and the normal rosy color that I’ve grown accustomed to is absent. It looks like he’s aged a few years since the last time I saw him. And I’d do anything to give him back that time.

“I don’t…I don’t want to talk about it,” he chokes out.

His words act like a vice around my heart. “Then we don’t have to talk about it. Just know that I’m here for you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You look tired, though,” I point out.

He shrugs but doesn’t deny it.

“You should get some rest.”

With a quick shake of his head, he mutters, “I uh, I don’t like to close my eyes.”

A sad yet knowing smile graces my lips before I divulge a secret. “Ya know, I get scared sometimes too. But do you wanna know what helps me?”

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