Page 62 of Into the Blue
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.
