Page 17 of Into the Blue (Shades of Vengeance #1)

When I wake, the room is awash in Blue.

From the way it smells, to the energy that surrounds me—it’s all him.

It takes a few moments for me to blink and realize that I’m not at home or in my apartment. I’m also not in that dim room where my half-brother ordered his men to attack me either.

“How are you feeling?” The deep voice from my left says.

Blue.

I turn my head and sure enough, it is him. He shifts, one hand covering the fist that he holds to his lips at my bedside.

That’s my fist. He’s holding my hand in his and kissing the knuckles with reverence that I can feel down to my core.

Looking down at myself, I see that the other arm is in a sling. I’m bandaged and in a bed. My clothes are changed and I seem cleaned up for the most part.

Did he do this?

“I’m… ow,” I wince when I try to move. There’s something tight around my middle, binding me.

“Don’t move around yet. Your ribs and your shoulder are fucked. Matter fact, you’re not in good shape at all.” He looks concerned, but there is something more intense in his eyes, when he says more firmly, “Don’t move.”

“How did I get here? I—” My words halt as I remember being dragged from a trunk. “How long have I been here?”

“‘Bout three days.” I expect more information, but he doesn’t elaborate. I’m sore and my mind is foggy. I don’t know what to think about being in Blue’s space.

Truly alone with him.

The last time that I saw Blue, he was showing me a side of him that I had only glimpsed before. In the club, in the private room, there was always this intensity about him.

A desire that I could succumb to.

He was a mark and I knew that. But I couldn’t make my body listen to me.

I had gotten caught up in what was purely his will.

Even after I had just seen him, I knew that I needed to see him again.

It was dangerous.

I was in danger far before I allowed him to take over all my thoughts and tell him my name like he deserved to know the real me. Like maybe he deserved to see the real Rocky.

I should not have been associated with him in the first place, but it was necessary.

What I didn’t account for was how unhinged Terrell Lafayette Junior is. I have no idea what he knows of me now and that is the most dangerous part of all this.

I felt unsafe around Junior and my instincts were absolutely right. I should have screamed when I first felt those men corner me.

It’s unfortunate that it’s always the worst idea to give men the benefit of the doubt. That doubt is there for a reason.

Now, I’m reaping the consequences of my poor judgment.

He could have killed me, but he didn’t.

Somehow, I know that’s worse.

There is no time to flounder in the should-haves when I’m still in an unknown location. And though Blue is the lesser of two evils, I am vulnerable and exposed in his presence. Physically and… sigh , emotionally, too.

Damnit. He is my mark.

I fucked around and damsel’d too damn hard.

I need to get to my phone .

Taking my hand from his, I do my best to sit up even against his direct order. It hurts like a bitch, but I can at least get a better look around the room I’m in.

Dark furniture, abstract paintings on the walls, and a—“Is that a tank? Wh-what is in there?”

He stands to his full height, coming over to the bed and adjusting some pillows behind me before sitting on the bed next to me. It’s then that I realize how truly massive the bed is.

He’s a big man, so I could guess he would have a bed that matched. But… this thing is like two kings side by side. Built for orgies or something—it could easily hold six people.

“Snakes. Got two of them,” he simply informs me like it is the most normal thing in the world.

“Snakes?” He shrugs, and I squint to try and see anything more clearly through the glass. The enclosure spans the length of the room. With how large it is, it must be custom made. I hedge, “Like… a garter or…”

“Mexican Black Kings. Sativa and Indica. They’re sunnin’ right now.”

“What does that mean?”

“They’re cold blooded. Need sun or light to keep their temps up.” He points to a corner where a large lamp is illuminating a clump of blackness.

Then I see it move.

Slithering along the rocks and onto some leaves and sand, it pauses at the other end of the tank.

It’s absolutely massive. It’s got to be longer than I am tall or pretty damn close.

Its tongue flicks out and I see that Blue has made silent steps over to the tank.

For a man his size, he sure does move quietly.

He slides the top open and he reaches an arm in.

Slick as oil, the massive snake starts winding up his arm and behind his hair to the other arm. “Sativa, meet Racquelle.”

My pulse quickens and I try to scoot away from him. I’ve never seen a snake this big in person or one in real life. It’s far too comfortable outside of the glass that should be keeping it away from me.

He looks genuinely perplexed. “You scared of him?”

“Uhh, yea! What the hell? That thing could eat me! ”

“Nah,” is all he says, letting the reptile slither down his wrist and to his waist. He’s wearing a sash of this black snake that glimmers cobalt in the blue lighting.

The scales are so smooth and shiny that it looks like an oil slick on his black shirt.

If it weren’t for the way it’s moving, I may not have even known it was there.

The single chain Blue’s wearing around his neck moves every now and again, setting shimmering reflections around.

“Sativa ate not that long ago, prefers rodents or other snakes over people anyway. My gators though—not as… discernin’.

If you’re unlucky, you’d find out that they think meat is meat. ”

That freaks me out way more. Like the venom, it’s common knowledge that he makes people disappear by feeding them to his gators that are loyal only to the hand that feeds them.

“Well, I’d rather not test my luck today. I have enough things trying to kill me.”

Sativa has made his way back to his neck, settling his head among the loose locs that hang from Blue’s head.

I wince again when I try to move away from the big man and his big snake.

“Who did this?” He asks, gesturing to my general state. Should have known that he would not miss me wincing. I’m glad he hasn’t come any closer with the snake though.

“I don’t know,” I lie. Another to add to my list at this point.

“Don’t lie. Remember what I told you? Can’t keep my word if you don’t give me somethin’.”

I chew my lip, thinking over my options.

Telling him the truth of why Junior attacked me is out of the question. “I’m pretty sure it was the Fayes. They didn’t like what I told you.”

Vague, so vague, but I’m toeing a line here. I have no idea if they knew I was the one to tell Blue about Dejuan. Couldn’t be sure that Dejuan is still alive, but using context clues, I don’t think he is. But I did tell Blue about Jimmy and I know for a fact that Jimmy is missing because of me.

Missing.

Gone .

Very dead —if the blood on his hands and face were any indication. I saw it clear as day in my apartment, but dare not comment on it. Am I less guilty than him? Each choice I’ve made was a step in many steps to get to my goal.

Blue nods his head. “Gonna take care of it.” Walking back to the tank, he allows the snake to slither back down his arm into the enclosure where it disappears under some rocks. I’d never see it coming, I think as the snake moves out of sight. “First, gonna take care of you.”

Running a hand over my head, I realize that he must have washed… and detangled my hair from the attack. It’s even got some product in it that makes the long braid it’s in smooth and neat down my back.

He’s been taking care of me.

In jogger sweats and bare feet, he comes to my side and holds an arm out. The same one that he casually handled a snake with care. I don’t miss that symbolism for a second.

From handling one snake to another.

I move as slowly as I can with his help.

He keeps me steady as vertigo makes my vision wavy when blood rushes.

After a moment, he’s supporting me out of the room down another hallway with dark decor and luxe wood furnishings.

The carpet is plush under my feet and I am thankful that walking isn’t painful.

He stops at a doorway with a heavy looking door. “Mind if I smoke first?”

It strikes me as kind of weird that he’s asking. “Only if you’re not gonna share with me,” I say.

He grins and it's unlike any of the ones I’ve seen before. This one actually looks… pleased? That is so weird to qualify, but not once have I seen him look this way.

He pushes the door open and I see why the door is so heavy.

It doesn’t reek of old weed smoke, but it’s faint in the air, probably from the fabric in the room.

He sets me on a plush charcoal chair that instantly swallows me up.

I’m sinking into the stuffing, but it’s comfortable and not putting too much pressure on my sore body.

He flicks a switch on a machine in one of the large windows.

There is some kind of film over them so the room is dark enough that I can’t see outside well.

I’m sure you couldn’t see inside either.

A low whir comes from the machine and it must be what pulls the smoke out of the room.

He walks through the space gathering things.

A jar from a shelf full of them. Each one filled with slightly different shades of green from a pale citron to a deep, purplish hue. Some of the dried cannabis is tinged with red or yellow. A true connoisseur’s collection.

A packet of cigarillos from a box with all different flavors to choose from. He picks a navy colored one with blueberries on it.

A tray from a table beside the shelf of jars.

Then a little baggie with small white foam cylinders. Cigarette filters.