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“One of two things.” He discards one card and then draws another.
I noticed he’s not playing with money, and he wasn’t with his men earlier. Leo O’Neal isn’t someone who needs money to get what he wants. He can do that with information and favors. Both of which don’t sit on a table for everyone to see.
“You’ve either been transferred here to kill me—” He looks up and his dark eyes remind me of Sienna’s. “Or you’re a cop.”
“Why can’t it be both?” I ask, and there’s a long pause before a big smile stretches out across his face.
“What do you want?” he asks, waiting for me to discard. I look down at my hand again and shake my head.
“Nothing.”
His eyes narrow, and I feel like there’s more meaning in his question than just the cards. Is this a test? The king didn’t get to where he is by not being able to read people. What does he see when he looks at me? When I look in the mirror, I see the boy who aches for home.
I place my cards down on the table face up, revealing my hand to him. Four kings in a row stare back at us, the weight of their meaning clear. He’s the king, but I’m holding the cards. He’s given me this power by dealing them to me, and now he’s asking what I’d like to do with it.
“How much time do you have left?” I ask, and he smiles again.
“Too long.” He looks toward the fence as his smile fades, and I’m wondering if he’s thinking of Sienna.
“Maybe,” I say, getting up from the table, leaving the kings between us. “Maybe not.”
