Wild Card (Advantage Play Book 1) by Kelsie Rae

Author:Kelsie Rae [Rae, Kelsie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-22T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Kingston

I’ve been going through the motions since my dad died a few months ago from liver failure that threw my entire world from its axis. I guess all that alcohol finally did him in. After he passed, I stopped caring about life in general, let alone the family. But as I left a satisfied Ace last night, her pheromones still lingering in the air, I found the potential for a new reason to get up in the morning. And it’s scary as hell.

With my knuckles taped, I pummel the punching bag as visions of Burlone filter through my mind. In the basement of my father’s estate––my estate––there’s an in-home gym where I can usually be found when I need to work off a little steam. And after my time at Ace’s, I need to work off a little more than that.

Diece and I are dripping in sweat as he holds the bag and yells at me for another cross, jab, hook combination. Finishing the move, my chest inflates for some much-needed oxygen while my knuckles flex and release to ease the tension in them.

“Not bad,” D notes. “You seem awfully chipper today.”

I quirk my brow but refuse to admit it’s because of my conversation with Ace on the phone an hour or so ago. “Chipper?”

“You get laid?” he continues, ignoring my ribbing.

D doesn’t give a shit that I’m the boss. That I could have him in the ground with a snap of my fingers if he ever offended me.

But as I roll my sore shoulders up and down, I shake my head.

“No?” he pushes. “Did Burlone fall into a vat of acid?”

A dry laugh escapes me. “Wrong again, D. You going soft on me? Losing your edge?”

With a narrowed gaze, an intense Diece considers me. “Oh, so you want me to play hardball?” He squares his shoulders and stands to his full height, stepping around the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling. The guy is built like a fucking grizzly, but it doesn’t stop me from lifting my taped knuckles to goad him.

“You are in a good mood.” Mirroring my position, he brings his fists from his sides up near his chin. “We haven’t sparred in months. You’ve been too much of a pussy to take me on.”

I snort before sending a half-assed jab his way. The big bear doesn’t bother dodging as I connect with his forearm.

With a laugh, he continues, “No wonder she wouldn’t sleep with you. With a punch like that? My grandma could take you down.”

I join in his laughter as D throws a cross hook. Squatting low, his fists graze nothing but air before I cut upward with my clenched hands, connecting with his stomach. A gush of air escapes Diece, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing a punch at my unprotected face and hitting me on my left cheekbone.

“Going soft, my ass,” he grumbles under his breath.

Seeing stars, I blink rapidly to center myself while raising my hands up protectively to block another shot.

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