Page 2 of Bitter Queen (Advantage Play 4)

“I want to keep you safe, Q. But you need to let me.”

Slowly, I watch as tears gather in her eyes before she hastily wipes them away. “How long?”

My brows furrow. “How long?”

“How long do I need to give you?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Until it’s safe for you to leave.”

“So, I’m exchanging one prison for another?” Her voice cracks on the word prison, making my heart break right along with it.

“If that’s how you have to look at it,” I mutter, “Then, yes. But it’s for your own good.”

“And the only way you’ll let me hurt Burlone is if I agree to it?”

I nod. “Yeah. That’s the deal.”

Squeezing her eyes shut tight, I watch a small part of her die inside before she whispers, “Open the door. I’ll do whatever you want me to do, just…just let me hurt him.”

I shove the key into the lock, then turn it and unlatch the shed. After, I flip the light switch on the wall to reveal a hunched body in the center of the empty room. Looks like Burlone hasn’t woken up from the hit to his head. I smirk, knowing his skull is going to be pounding when he finally does.

“Come on in,” I murmur to Queena.

Peering into the room, she releases a shaky breath before stepping over the threshold like she’s afraid something is going to jump out and grab her.

There’s a tall metal cabinet in the back corner, and I make my way over to it. Once it’s opened, I wave my hand in front of the various tools designed to make someone hurt.

“Here ya go, Q. Go wild.”

1

Q

My eyes nearly pop out of my head as I inspect my options. Knives of every shape and size. A hand-sized blow-torch I’ve seen used on the cooking channel to make crème brûlée. Pliers. A hammer. Chisels. Cigar cutters. I catch myself hyperventilating as I continue my perusal in a daze when Diece gently touches the small of my back. I nearly jump out of my skin. Twisting away from him, he raises his hands into the air before offering an apology.

“Shit, Queena. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”

I nod, though I can feel the lie from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

No. I’m not okay.

“The baseball bat’s over here, but you’re welcome to whatever you want. Just make sure you leave something for Ace. She has her own beef with Burlone too.” He points to the lower half of the cabinet, where a couple of baseball bats sit as the memory of my conversation with Ace flutters through my mind.

Again, I nod because I’m not sure I could talk right now, even if I tried.

Yeah.

She does have her own beef with him. And she’s being generous letting me have the first swing. If it were Sei strapped into that chair, there’s no way I’d let her go first. There’s no way I’d let anyone touch him except me.

Hands shaking, I reach for the wooden bat. My knuckles are white with how hard I grip the handle, but my palms are sweaty, and I don’t want to risk dropping it. I can’t let Diece see how weak I feel.

How weak I am after everything I’ve been through.

“What now?” I whisper, peeking up at him.

“Now, you wake him up.”

“And how would I do that?”