Page 28 of Into the Blue (Shades of Vengeance #1)

The true reason I came to Colorado is not one that I enjoy. The mundane reprieve of the bakery opening sits at a stark contrast to the task I’m headed to now.

After an unpleasant update from Redd, I need to calm myself as best I can.

Benefits of flying private is being able to keep my green on me.

I finally light my blunt and smoke it down slowly as I watch Colton’s house. The strong smell of pine crowds the smell of my weed in the air. His truck is parked out front and there are several other cars there too.

Like me, he knows there is safety in numbers. He always had a big crew even before I met him. I don’t feel unsafe here by myself because there are many reasons why my life is more important than any of theirs. If I get hurt, they know it will come back to haunt them tenfold.

Recognize the risk and mitigate it. That’s security that I can trust.

What I can’t trust is the destruction of an entire shipment due to a car accident that just so happened to affect only one vehicle.

Police ruling it a hit and run. How does one car drive away unfazed while mine blew up like fireworks?

Yesterday, while I was celebrating Drea’s opening, someone was plotting.

When the final embers of my blunt draw to an end, I toss the roach and crush it to the ground before I knock on the door with the end of my knife’s handle. Was gonna wait but try the knob instead and it opens without any resistance.

As soon as I step into the house, the oxygen syphons out. There was a buzz about until everyone of his men began to notice that it was me standing in the doorway.

Colton glances up from his desk at the back corner of the room and stands a little too fast, his boots catching on the cracked floor tile.

I don’t know why his house is so shitty when he’s making enough to do better.

Colorado, especially Harmony Hill, has plenty of new builds that would be better than this dump. “Blue. Didn’t expect you until—”

“Until you fixed your shit?” I finish for him. My voice is low and quiet. The kind of quiet that people raise their shoulders to instinctively, like they’re waiting for the moment my mood will untether. “And yet here I am.”

He swallows. “It’s… almost under control.”

I turn my head slowly. “Almost? It’s November.”

“We’ve been tracking the routes already in place. It’s definitely not internal.” He clears his throat. “At least not on my side. Some of the runners you hired for the Colorado expansion—”

“Are dead,” I interrupt, taking another step forward. “Four of them. Van flipped. Burned. No product and no witnesses. That doesn’t feel like almost to me, Sheriff.”

His jaw tightens. I can see the twitch he tries to smother under his stubble. He gestures to another room in the house, away from his men. Guess he didn’t want them to hear me chew him out.

The pride’s still there.

Good.

I’ll enjoy cutting it out piece by piece. I decline his invitation to move to the other room.

“Give me until the end of the year,” he says, eyes darting to his crew like they’re going to rescue him now. “I’ve got a plan in motion.”

“You had a plan last month,” I remind him. “And last month, my shipments were supposed to double. Instead, I’ve got more holes in my inventory and whispers about a rat you still haven’t caged.”

One of his men, a lanky thing with too much confidence and not enough sense, chuckles behind Colton’s shoulder .

I don’t even ask what was funny. I didn’t make a goddamn joke. I just turn, slow and deliberate. When I look at him, he freezes.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

He licks his lips. “Ricky.”

“Ricky.” I nod. “Mmmh. You like your job, Ricky?”

He blinks. “Y-yeah, I—”

I flip my grip on the knife in my hand and flick my wrist, sending the blade toward him. It lands right below his kneecap.

Colton shouts and another of Colton’s goons rushes to the guy.

Ricky screams like a dying pig, clutching his ruined leg, blood pouring onto the floor in a copious stream.

I walk over, crouch down next to him, and pull my knife, “See, Ricky… there’s a difference between people who work for me and people who make jokes while I talk about my dead men and my missin’ money. Guess which one you are.”

He sobs something incoherent.

I put the knife’s reddened blade under his chin. “You’re welcome to stay. But if you ever open your mouth in my presence again, the next hole won’t be in your leg.”

I stand after cleaning my knife off on his shirt and return it to its sheath.

Colton’s shock is clear as day with the pale cast to his light skin. “Jesus, Blue.” He runs a hand over his cropped hair.

“Don’t bring him into this,” I mutter. “Know who you work for.”

The room is quiet except for Ricky’s whimpers as someone bandages him up.

I look at the others. “Clean this up. And if any of you have opinions, keep them to your fuckin’ selves.”

As I walk out, Colton follows. “Blue—”

“Keep it.”

He jogs to catch up. “Look, I know I messed up. But this ain’t like before. Someone’s cutting the line before it even hits us. It ain’t my people. I swear on my badge.”

“Your badge means less to me than Ricky’s leg. ”

He’s quiet for a beat, then says, “I heard about the wreck, but that had nothing to do with us. I think it’s time to consider that someone is pissed and targeting you. Sure, there could be a rat. Whether there is or there isn’t—this rat is reporting to someone.”

I stop walking and turn to face him.

“This is supposed to be your domain. You should have some semblance of an idea about what is goin’ on here.

That wreck has everythin’ to do with you.

If someone is targetin’ me, they’re targetin’ you, too!

” I bark, tone loud and sharp as I jab my finger into his chest. “It was your word that you had this under control. Don’t like that I’m here havin’ to find shit out because you aren’t doin’ your part of the job. ”

“I’m doing what I can.” He steps into my direct line before I can open the door of the rental. “This will all work out. It will be the biggest move we’ve seen. You see my team working hard in there. End of year. That’s all I’m asking.”

My jaw ticks. “End of year—or else.” I get in the car, slam the door, and sit there for a moment with my fingers flexed tight around the steering wheel. Once Colton has gone into his house again, I settle in for the drive I’ll have to make back to my brother’s house.

With the mountains swiping past me, my mind returns to the woman waiting for me back home and I start to calm.

Racquelle.

I’ve never been wrapped up like this before. I’m desperate to get back to her.

Wrapped up. That’s a weak word for what this is.

Obsession’s more honest.

I went to Colorado because I had to. Because the money don’t lie and the green don’t move by itself. But every second I’m here, I keep thinking about her. How she sleeps in my arms like she’s safe. How she doesn’t let anything stop her. How she moves like smoke and intoxicates me like it, too.

I didn’t want to be gone this long.

Didn’t want her to think I left her there without protection. Though I know my men will make sure she’s good. I still worry about her .

And now that the issue still isn’t fixed, I’m boiling inside—at Colton, at myself, at the whole fucking empire I built that can’t keep itself together when I take my eyes off it for five minutes.

But mostly, I’m pissed because I don’t know how to say I missed her without sounding weak.

I need to see her.

Not just fuck her.

Not just touch her.

See her.

I need her to know that whatever this is between us, it’s not temporary. It’s not because of petty family beef.

It’s more and I want to be more.

I start thinking about the chains I wear—the ones people recognize. I’ve had chicks try to wear my gold, claim me with it like it meant something.

Racquelle’s different.

A chain feels too… expected. Too obvious.

She’s not just some jawn. So I think about what would really mark her as mine. Not a chain. Not a ring.

Time.

She gave me hers one night and made me crave a lifetime.

So I’ll give her time of my own.

Not some designer throwaway. Nah, I want something with weight. Something impossible to miss.

It can’t wait until I get back home.