Page 16 of Into the Blue (Shades of Vengeance #1)

“Boss,” the staticky voice of one of the men at the back comes through on my desk.

Redd looks over to the radio and grabs it before I can. “This Redd. Wassup?”

Neither of us were supposed to be working this late, but for the third time this week, there was a delay in the package over state lines.

Blue Dream, our biggest seller and the newest cannabis strain we offer, gone like smoke.

Unlike the one from Colorado, this one from California was missing a quarter of the shipment from one truck.

How does a quarter of the weed just disappear?

Tracking down illegal shipments of weed should be easier since we are paying more than the government does for dispensaries in that state.

There are plenty of extra funds to be able to secure the packages in some kind of way.

Aside from hiring private security or developing some kind of trackers to put in every package, there isn’t a way. It’s not USPS insured or some shit.

Granted, we’re able to move more weight without the stipulations and guidelines of red tape registered dispensaries regulations face, but it’s the fact that from point A to point B, shit is missing.

When I took over for my father before he passed, all I had to worry about was the boot, Louisiana. Terrell Senior was still handling moving this shit. He’d run it from Mexico, and we’d distribute it.

Easy .

Fucking cake walk.

Now cutting them out is proving more difficult because I can’t have eyes everywhere. I can’t rely on the people I’ve put in place. I can’t rely on the dealings I’ve made.

That is becoming more and more clear.

I just don’t know why.

Colorado was easy when it was Colton and his men.

My brother may not have been a part of this in any way, but his best friend, Drea, had been my first key into how I could expand the Dupont name past state borders and take advantage of American produced weed.

Getting the good shit and charging even more for green where they couldn’t get it legally in the US.

Medical grade marijuana was nothing to sniff at. Profit margins were higher because everybody wanted this shit in comparison to the reggie I was dealing with before. I don’t know if it was because Senior was making bad choices on suppliers or if the quality degraded from the region he got it from.

Either way, I had to level up if I was going to expand. After making that connection with Drea’s ex, I began to really hit my stride. My next connect in Cali was easy. Same process, just a new location.

It was—until it wasn’t.

This is more calculated than just randomly picking off something by accident. Someone is hitting us slowly. Making me distrust my men, forcing me to chase down these itty bitty ass problems while something larger is surely brewing.

With Redd behind the computer screen doing whatever he does, I’m stuck thinking over every interaction I’ve had with all parties involved. Time passes before anyone says anything over the radio.

“Umm, someone left a body here. She’s at the back door, boss.” I snatch the radio from Redd’s hand. He rolls his eyes, focusing back on the screen.

It’s been two days and I haven’t heard from Diamond and she’s not been to work. What we had was only the start. I’d hoped to finally put some of the fun extras in the private room to work, starting with those chains on the back wall above the bed.

She wasn’t there though.

Figured she was just uncomfortable after Jimmy accosted her. But I told her that I’d taken care of that problem. I put my number in her phone and aside from the first call she placed so that I’d have her number, my phone was dry.

She never hit me up and she wasn’t working.

My gut churns thinking about what could have happened to her. A suspicion enters my mind and I don’t want it to be true. I grip the radio so tightly that the metal stings against my damaged hands. “Who is it?”

There’s a pause before a crackling response comes through the radio again. “Don’t know. She’s not conscious.”

She.

Fuck, no.

I look over to Redd and he shrugs. Pressing the mic on, I ask, “Dead?”

“Should I check?”

“The fuck? Yes.” I’m already headed down the four flights of stairs to the security at the back.

The secured and barred doors buzz to let me through. I can still hear Redd following behind me, but I don’t wait for him.

Normally, we receive any illegal product through these doors. It’s a precaution to have the men here to keep an eye on any deliveries and to make sure someone can’t just walk out with my shit. The other door on the west side is for standard deliveries for any of the legal fronts.

The only people who know of this entry are the ones involved with the green. This reeks of Junior and I need to get to the bottom of it.

“Open the door,” I bark when the outside door is still locked.

With another buzz, I’m able to push through and I see her there at the foot of the short steps leading to the door.

My Diamond.

Racquelle .

The concrete runway is empty for once, My steps pick up. Rushing and practically leaping off the steps to get to her, my black heart cracks wide open at the state she’s in.

“Fuck.” I brush the hair from her face with shaking fingers. “Fuck, baby.”

The tape over her mouth is my first priority. It’s stuck to her bedraggled hair and over her bruised and bloody face.

Whoever did this, taped her up after they pulverized her.

My fury mounts as I take my time trying to get the tape off as gently as possible. I know I’m not gonna be able to keep from hurting her further.

Each millimeter it releases, I wince.

Who the fuck did this?

I’ll kill them.

It takes me a few minutes, but I’m able to get the tape off her face so she can at least breathe better. She still hasn’t moved, but Redd is there by my side now.

“Shiiit,” he says, before turning back to the security door to call for someone to bring a car around.

I don’t know where to grab her.

She’s beaten so badly, that I’m scared I’ll hurt her more by even touching her.

With my arms under her torso, there is the faintest movement of her lips as I try to get to her hands behind her back. A low, suffering moan escapes into the humid night.

“Racquelle. Racquelle, can you hear me?”

She mumbles something finally. She’s alive. Thank fuck.

Cutting the last tape from her wrists and ankles with my knife, I tell her, “Gonna pick you up, okay baby?”

I don’t wait for her reply when Vert comes over to help me pick her up with as much care as we can.

Normally, I’d be pissed to even see another man with their hands on my Diamond, but anything to make her more comfortable right now is better than putting her through anymore pain.

Her head rests on my lap as we take that drive back to my spot .

Redd makes all sorts of calls as I stroke the hair from her face, counting each nick and bruise that’s visible in her dirty, bloodied clothes.

There’s a car already waiting for us there. It must be the doctor we use for our soldiers to come check her over. I’m grateful that Redd is at least on top of things as my thoughts turn more and more murderous.

We park and I try to lift her head. Racquelle jostles, startled and disoriented. “Just let us carry you inside. I’m not tryin’ to fight with you on this. I got you.”

She settles and I watch diligently as the doctor examines her on my bed.

Three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, two black eyes, countless butterfly bandages and unknown substances keeping her mostly unconscious.

I hope that she wasn’t awake for any of it.

I told her that I would ensure that if anyone hurt her, I’d make them regret it in the worst way.

Rage and hate mix at toxic levels in my bloodstream as she lies in the bed looking like she does.

I’ll find who did this, and I’ll make them pay for what they did to my Diamond.