Page 19 of Into the Blue (Shades of Vengeance #1)

There’s a woman in my house.

This is not just any woman.

Fuck I look like having any regular ol’ woman staying in my crib?

This is a woman that could make me change my ways.

The fact that she’s still here is proof of that.

In the fifteen years I’ve lived in this house alone since my dad passed, I’ve never let a chick stay over. Yea, I might bring them back here, but the score is settled before they walk in.

You can come, but ultimately, you gotta go.

I’ve been taking care of Racquelle though. Best I know how. Had Vert and Geno go get her things from that apartment and now she wants for nothing. That place never looked like one she cared about anyway. No personality or indication that she was planning on staying there.

Now she doesn’t have to.

Redd managed to find her purse and phone on the side of the highway so she’s got a way to tell her friends and her family that she’s okay. She has relaxed a lot more since she’s been able to contact them. As much as anyone can who’s been jumped by a bunch of cowards.

I could have had someone come and cook for her and help her around the house, but I don’t trust anyone to be around her when she’s just a fragile thing.

I might be a monster, but I take care of mine.

I’m also a man of my word. When I claimed her, it wasn’t a fucking throw around phrase or some shit. I will keep her safe from this point forward. By any means necessary.

There was no need to have more people in my house. I wasn’t going to leave her side. If she needs it, I’ll be the one to get it for her.

I could do anything that I would have been working on in the warehouse, from my home office. Anyone who I needed to meet with there—they could come see me at my home office.

Not that I’ve been getting any work done that I need to. I’ve gotten no closer to answering my missing product or rat problem. Having Allen on my books has shown me that I’m still profitable. But for how long if I can’t count on product to come to my guys on time?

I’ve got Vert on it for now. He managed to raise the prices by ten percent to make up for the product loss with all the men under him selling in Louisiana.

It’s a bandaid. A flimsy one, but since Racquelle is starting to feel better I’ll be able to get after it with a more hands-on approach. I just need to see if the rat will expose themselves.

That is exactly what this is like.

Rats don’t take the whole loaf. They chew through the middle.

Racquelle’s ribs aren’t giving her problems any more and she’s not really had to use her sling. She even started working out when I go to my gym in the back of the house.

I have all the equipment I’d need to stay in shape, so I don’t have to be in public just to workout.

I prefer to do it alone and that’s not really possible when it’s unsafe, and dumb as fuck, to go to a place consistently every week with none of my men with me.

I’ve got plenty of privacy to train in peace here.

Occasionally Redd or Vert will join me, but they prefer the gym Redd trains everyone else in. A luxury I can’t afford.

Opening the door to my home gym, I walk past the treadmill and squat rack to where Racquelle has set up.

She’s working with dumbbells today to test the strength of her shoulder.

They aren’t heavy, but in the mirror she watches her reps from the bench.

With a call to the doctor, he was able to refer me to someone who could give me insight on workouts that would be helpful for her recovery.

I still think it’s too early for her to be going this hard, but I can’t stop her. I’d rather be here to help her.

“Need some help?” I cough to hide my instant regret of the cheap line. Racquelle is capable and would be just fine on her own if it weren’t for me in the first place. Too bad for her that I’m not an experience that she will be able to shake.

She watches me walk over in my long tee and exercise shorts with intrigue.

Her eyes never leave me when she releases the weight from over her head and back to the bench.

I sit behind her, our thighs touching. She picks the weight back up and I spot her, though we both know it’s unnecessary. I want to touch her anyway. At least she’ll still be able to work out while I do it.

I haven’t touched her in a sexual way while she recovered here. I don’t deserve an award or something for not taking advantage, but it’s been too many long as fuck weeks since I had the ability to touch her in a way that wasn’t sterile.

The way this started between us was contractual, but I now know that I would have pursued her regardless. It took one look and I knew I needed to get close to her. I want what we have to be less of what it once was—to become something real and genuine.

Our first rep together is easy. I count them out, making sure to watch her form. By the time she gets to eight, I can see her struggling even though she could have stopped at any point.

“Don’t have to hold yourself together for me,” I attempt to assure her.

She doesn’t flinch when I take the dumbbell from her. That’s what makes me the most furious. Not the bruises. Not the swelling that’s finally started to go down. Not the cuts that have seamed up.

It’s the fact that she’s trying to pretend like none of it hurts.

My voice is low, “You’re not gonna impress me here with how much pain you can take. ”

The gym is not where I want her to show me how much pain she can take. With how undeterred she was with my knife at her throat showed me that she could handle plenty. The memory sparks something low in my stomach. Even then, she wasn’t afraid. Or maybe she was and didn’t show it.

This isn’t the same thing though.

I watch her jaw tighten, then she reaches for the weight with her good arm. “I’m fine. Working out is good for me.” She transfers the weight and presses it up again.

“Nine,” I say, correcting her form as she lifts the dumbbell laterally. Her shoulder tenses and she winces.

I see it though she tries to swallow it down.

“Keep your core tight,” I murmur, resting my hand over her middle. “Don’t lean. You cheat yourself like that.”

She nods once, face blank. Trying to prove she can do this alone.

I hate that about her.

Not the strength—never that. Her strength only makes her more fucking sexy. I don’t know anyone that could have gone through what she did and be this determined to move past it like it didn’t happen.

Not in my world.

It’s the lie she’s telling herself that she has to hurt quietly. Like she hasn’t earned softness. Like she can’t be soft with me when I’ve given her every opportunity to be.

I’m not the most romantic guy. Fuck, it’s not like I’ve even been on a date in a decade. But I’ve been taking care of her. I know I’ve been doing a decent job of it, too.

“Ten,” I say, and she lowers her arm slowly.

I’m still watching her closely in the mirror. “You good?”

She nods again, but I move before she can speak. I close the space between us, wide legs bracketing her hips, pulling her back until her spine rests against my chest. We sit like that for a time so she can rest.

I can’t make her stop pushing herself, but I can be here to support her if and when she needs me .

“Go for another set.” I pick up the other dumbbell and place it in her hand.

Her shoulder twitches and she bites her lip until color drains from it.

“That’s it,” I murmur against her ear. “Slow. Controlled. Got you.” My palm supports her bicep through the extension.

I stand behind my words. I mean it when I said I have her. I have to keep her safe from the fucked up parts of my world. This happened to her because of me. The guilt is foreign but well deserved.

I’m keeping her.

Even when I shouldn’t.

The smell of her, even a little sweaty from what she was doing before I got here, is intoxicating. I’m always drawn to her. Wanting to lean in and have more. Her body’s soft where mine is hard and it kills me to know someone touched her without permission. That they intended to hurt her and did so.

She didn’t deserve that.

“You shouldn’t be doing this so soon,” I mutter, fingers ghosting over the curve of her elbow, checking for tension.

“I need to feel strong again,” she breathes, meeting my eyes for the challenge. Her statement hits me square in the chest.

Strong.

I don’t doubt her strength, but that strength was never supposed to be built out of bruises.

“You already are,” I say. It slips out before I can stop it.

She lowers the dumbbell, lets it drop to the mat between her feet, and leans back against me fully this time. As we sit here together, her heart beats against mine.

“It’s not enough,” she whispers. “Maybe, I’m not enough.”

My eyebrows draw in with confusion. “For what?”

She shakes her head slowly, chaotic thoughts flitting through those eyes that search mine in our reflection. “I shouldn’t be here and you know it.”

“I don’t know shit. You’re mine,” I clarify. “Even if you don’t want to be. Even if you’re fighting what I’ve already told you. Gonna take care of it. ”

I had Redd tracking the Fayes movements for a good while, but never with the effort I had been recently.

Redd was completely on board to end any Faye life since they were directly responsible for his brother’s death.

I had him held back because at the time it was not good business to burn that bridge.

But now, it was a matter of going to war if I retaliated in any way.

Their attack on Racquelle was very clearly the first act of war.

Nothing is more important than the family and Racquelle was a part of that now. Nothing in my conscience could let her go when the last time I let her be, without me and my protection, things ended the way it did.

But that fucker Junior was hiding. He wasn’t in the state and no one could get a location on him. As soon as Junior showed his face, it’d be the last time he would take a breath.