All Blues

by Marie Wathen

  A couple of hours later, we kick back on the deck drinking and enjoying the silence and the late summer breeze rolling in with the tide. From inside, the music filters out into the darkness. Bobbie curls into Attacus’s side, nodding off while he stares up at the white speckled sky, and I watch as handfuls of families run around the white sands, looking for crabs scurrying about, and then giggling wildly when they spot one. I absorb all of it while doubting that I’ll ever get lucky enough to have someone that I can bring here for holidays too.

  “I’m going to take her to bed,” Attacus tells me, carrying the sleeping beauty off to his room. About ten minutes later, he returns with a bowl of watermelon. “Here,” he holds it out, and I snag a thick piece of the ice-cold juiciness, “I bet I can beat your ass again.”

  I smirk and then take a big bite. For another ten minutes we spit the black seeds as high into the air as they’ll go and of course, he wins on distance. The damn things stay suspended above his head for like fifteen goddamn seconds and my wimpy bitches fall after five.

  “There is something fucked up about you being able to blow that hard,” I tease.

  He chuckles, “Never had one complaint about my skills. You’d think with you blowing…sax, you could beat me.” I roll my eyes.

  Crashing waves, random pops of fireworks, and seagulls screeching, like scavengers, hunting for discarded food, take over the sounds of the night on the beach as darkness completely encroaches on the holiday festivities.

  After a long silence, he admits, “I’m glad you stayed.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, nodding my head.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or must I do some investigating?”

  With my head resting on the back of the lounger, I shake it and say, “I’m not where I thought that I would be by now.”

  “Nelson’s dragging this shit out longer than you hoped?” he guesses, but I was really referring to my life in general.

  Instead of correcting him, I confess, “I made a mistake a couple of weeks ago and someone could die because of it. I need to get Jude out and put his family in a safe house before this scene blows to hell.”

  “Is there something that I can do to help?” Attacus is a member of an elite government group, similar to the Navy Seals.

  “Drop in on Juan and waste his ass before he orders a hit on the X’kapz, or on my partner.”

  He stares at me hard. “Why don’t you just end this shit and pull out too?” Dammit, not this shit again.

  I exhale loudly and sit up, placing my feet on the ground and dropping my clasped hands between my thighs. “I am doing this for us; you, me, Urban, Indie, and Oakley. He slaughtered our parents, Attacus.” My anger rises and so does my blood pressure. “That son of a bitch got away with killing our family and he will do the same damn thing to me if I bail.” Attacus shakes his head. “Until he is either behind bars or dead, our family isn’t safe. I can’t even fucking think about what he would do to Jude if he ever finds out that he is undercover.”

  “I just think…” He glances away biting his tongue for a moment and then finishes his thought. “This idea is stupid. Do you realize what you are doing?” He doesn’t let me respond, because now he’s angry. “You are selling drugs, Ethan. Maybe you’re not personally standing on the goddamn street corner with pockets full of baggies and rocks, but you are responsible for increasing the wealth of his fucking drug cartel, and distributing that shit throughout the world.” He growls, “And Nelson isn’t suffering, he is profiting more now than ever before because of you managing his contracts. I get the reasons behind why you are in this, but take a hard look at yourself. Who are you?”

  “I know what I am doing, Goddammit!” I snap, standing up. “Why can’t you understand and support me for once? The only way that I’ll truly be done with this bullshit is when that son of a bitch is six feet under.”

  “Nelson killing five people is insignificant when you look at how many people die every fucking day because of the shit you are pushing on the streets.” Standing too, he walks toward the stairs leading down to the beach. “Think for one damn minute about your living family, and then remember how much you hate Oscar and what the hell his life represented.” He knows damn well that I despise our father almost as much as Nelson. Before stepping away, he asks again, “Who are you, Ethan?” My fist makes contact with the patio column and I growl through the pain. I follow it up with the other, and then thrust ten years of hatred and heartache into it repeatedly.

  “I am nothing like that bastard!” I repeat my statement, watching him disappear into the darkness.

  When I decided to give up my life and go undercover to get justice for the pain that Nelson put us through, I didn’t explain my secret plan to my brothers and sisters. They were safer not knowing.

  My baby brother, Urban was just a toddler, nearly the same age that Simone is right now, when the son of a bitch killed our parents. Sadly, he doesn’t know life other than one without them. Thankfully, he has my youngest sister, Oakley, who practically raises him, to keep their memories alive.

  Oakley was only eight years old at the time. She took their deaths the hardest. It ripped my heart out to watch her go through the past ten years without our mother around. She’s a good kid, but my grandparents are getting too old to continue raising them, especially now that they are both teenagers. Because of my lifestyle choices, Oakley refuses to have any part in what I’m doing.

  Although it sucks, I don’t want my siblings anywhere near this life either. Once it’s all over, I plan on making some major changes. Ones that will keep them safe, even it means that I’ll never see them again.

  Thankfully, I don’t have to worry about Indie quite as much as the younger ones. At twenty, she lives comfortably with my mother’s sister. Indie’s special needs situation makes it complicated for her to take care of herself independently, but not impossible. She is so stubborn though that she refuses to try living in her own apartment, so I set up my aunt and uncle with the best that money can buy. Their estate includes a small studio apartment adjacent to the main house. With it still being attached, she didn’t put up too much of a fight.

  Indie is brilliant and fooling her into anything is not always possible. She has had numerous private tutors, but her irritability with everyone makes it difficult for her to receive a proper education. Attacus and I have our degrees, and I hope that the other kids will also strive for higher educations. Indie claims that it is unnecessary for her to attend college, given the fact that she believes she’ll never work. All of her learning has been through reading and online classes. Her slightly abnormal quality of life, made so because of a mild form of high-functioning Autism, was made devastatingly worse last year when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Surgery saved her and she is in remission, but every good day that she has is compounded with the fear that her health issues could take another turn.

  Attacus caught on almost instantly to my scheming. He came home ready to beat the hell out of me, and when I refused to fight back, he put two and two together. Knowing the truth made him even madder, but I refused to listen when he said that I was making a huge mistake. Over the past couple of years, we’ve skirted around the topic. Mostly, because I meant what I said when I committed to this case. Nothing will stop me from destroying Nelson. Seeing that bastard’s heartless ass frying in the electric chair is worth having my entire family hating me, and losing all chances at a happy life, which includes epic love.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’m less than two minutes away, Brit,” I tell my sweet cousin as I’m driving through downtown Atlanta toward the restaurant where I am meeting her and the other members of the wedding party.

  “Okay, hurry. Lourdes just arrived and she is in a nasty mood.” She sounds frazzled. With the wedding date rapidly approaching, she is getting edgier and edgier.

  “Pulling up now.” I glance in the rear mirror, and as usual, I spot Zeke and Bales in their blacked out BMW, falling in
line behind me.

  Exhaling loudly, she says, “Good.”

  We disconnect, and I ease my Bentley into the short line of cars waiting for the valet. Just moments after turning my keys over to the twenty-something woman at the front, I glance up at the entryway and spot Decks coming out. He spins around to his side, coming face to face with Angel, wearing a broad grin that matches his. Decks’ hands move to her face, and then he kisses her forehead. Inching closer, I feel an overwhelming draw. The strike of a sledge hammer against steel couldn’t be louder, or feel stronger, than my pulse while looking at this incredible woman. Her hair is pulled to the side in a loose ponytail and she is dressed casual, but cuter than I’ve ever seen her. Wearing a silver halter top and dark wash jeans that bend perfectly against her temping curves, she is stunning. The grey cowgirl boots look worn, which tells me that they’re probably her favorite. Smirking, I think, I do appreciate a woman in boots, especially when that is all she is wearing. With my nights consumed of dreams featuring her, I’m wound up tighter than a compressed propellant. At any moment, I could explode, like I have been doing on a daily basis lately with virtually everyone that I come in contact with.

  Tonight was supposed to be a relaxing evening out, a nice dinner to celebrate with the happy couple. Even though Lourdes is my date, I need a night out to focus on anything other than my self-imposed hell. Clearly, my night is going to shit before I even get inside the restaurant. Deciding to breakup whatever these two seem to have going on, I continue walking, and with forced pleasantries, I call, “Hillary.”

  Angel steps around him, and my breathing picks up instantly when her eyes lock with mine. The silver in them glimmers, like she is pleased to see me. A smile curls up her luxurious pink lips, and it feels like I just took a bullet to the heart. It’s the same look that she gave Simone the last time that I saw her. She looks so happy, illuminating with a unique brilliance that I never knew a person could be gifted. Thrusting a hand through my hair, and sliding my bottom lip between my teeth, I’m barely able to fight the urge of grabbing her up, taking her in my arms, and begging her to do very naughty things with that sinful mouth.

  Decks acts like he doesn’t want to pull his attention away from Angel, but he finally says to me, “Hey Ethan, you don’t want to keep that hellcat inside waiting too long. She has already jumped Angel tonight. You’ll be her next target for being late.”

  Hearing his words, I acknowledge with a slight nod, but seeing him moving to take Angel’s hand into his so naturally, it feels like a million scavengers are digging their way out of my chest, and I’m struggling to breathe. The pressure is unbelievable. There will never come a time when Angel will be yours, a commanding voice reminds me.

  “Is that so?” I ask him, shaking out of the oppressive state. “What’s her problem with Angel?”

  Before he can answer, I glance over at her. She slides long fingers down his forearm, covering their intertwined hands, and clutches them securely. Does this mean that she isn’t waiting on Rad to get out of prison and is now with Decks? She can’t be his!

  Angel replies, “It’s nothing, and I’m fine, Decks.”

  “I heard about Rad,” I test, and she flinches slightly. I’ve studied enough criminals during interrogations to know that from that minuscule reaction she isn’t fully over her boyfriend.

  “Rad is history. When he gets out I’m giving him his walking papers,” Decks demands. Her eyes flicker with alarm. She definitely wasn’t prepared for that statement.

  She has my curiosity up now. I wonder what Angel is up to. “Good,” I agree. “I didn’t like the way he handled some things.” Feeling like I’m staring at a puzzle, I move closer to study her, but her eyes pop, like she is afraid of me. Then she shakes her head just the slightest bit. “Well, I guess I should go face the music.” Thinking about the night at her place, I wink, and she blushes. Without taking my eyes off of her, I say to Decks, “I’ll see you at the wedding, Hillary.”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

  I’m not sure what is going on, but I will figure it out. Angel being with Decks is a deadly combination, for him and her. She could get hurt because of mafia business, and I will kill him before I allow anything bad to happen to her.

  Spotting Britny waving me inside, I step around them and call back, “Good night, Angel.” Then forcing a fake smile, I push open the restaurant door.

  “Oh, thank God, I am going insane,” Britny declares, grabbing the front of my shirt right before she begins sobbing. Glancing up, I spot her dinner party drinking and laughing, completely unaware of the bride’s meltdown. “I don’t think that I can go through with this, Eth.”

  “No,” I whisper softly, pressing my lips against the top of her head and brushing my hand down her back. “Come on now.” She grips me tighter, her little body trembling and her face rubbing along my chest to remove her flooding tears. Walking us toward the back, away from prying eyes, I say, “Talk to me.” Zeke’s eyes narrow on us, but I shake my head, letting him know that this moment is strictly private. He lingers by the door while Bales remains on guard outside, watching the perimeter.

  “What if,” she starts, and immediately her questions become broken with hiccups, “I’m making a mistake? What if I chose the wrong man? Can Hartley love me enough? For our entire lifetime? He won’t, Eth, he can’t. I’m not like most women.”

  “Is this what you think? Do you really believe that Hartley doesn’t love you epically?”

  She nods, but then shakes her head and says, “I don’t know.”

  “He does.” I pull her away, rub my thumb across her cheek to dry her tears, and she looks deeply into my eyes, like she’ll find all the answers hidden in them. “Your heart knows,” I tell her, and she nods. “Whoever has you questioning your feelings is wrong, Brit. Not everyone gets a true love and a happily ever after. They are jealous of the miracle that you have found. Promise me that the spirit inside you, the one that fights against people who try to bring you down, the courage that got you through losing your father, that anger that won’t waiver when the world says you can’t, will not break because of someone who is weak on the inside and doesn’t want you enjoying life.”

  “Thank you,” she whispers, smiling half-heartedly.

  “I’ll need a real one before I’m going to let you go.” I tap the end of her nose and she smiles brighter. Pointing to the ladies room, I ask, “You want me to wait while you freshen up?”

  “Oh good lord, no.” Britny glances at the restroom door and then peers around me, looking toward the middle of the busy restaurant. “There’s no telling who is suffering with our absence. When Lourdes arrived, she went turbulent on some new woman that Decks is dating. I nearly died for the poor girl. She called her a crackhead.” She shakes her head, running her fingertips under her eyes to remove the smudges and then glances up at me again. “There is no way that gorgeous woman does drugs. She’s like perfect.”

  “Yeah,” I state, agreeing with her sincere compliment. “Let’s practice.” Offering Britny my elbow to escort her back to the table, I smile at my sweet cousin, who never lets me down with her amazing strength.

  Before approaching the table, we stop at the bar, and I order two whiskeys. Britny downs hers like a champ, and I sip mine slowly. With liquid courage filtering into her system, she takes a deep breath and then says, “I’m good now.” Kissing her forehead, I smile and then glance toward the wedding party.

  Lourdes’ eyes flare with bitterness, and she leaps to her feet, rushing to greet us and dragging me out of Britny’s arms. “You’re late,” she growls, gripping my bicep tightly. Turning her head sideways, she presents her cheek, and I kiss it before walking her back and assisting with her chair. Cupping her hand over mine as I sit, she laughs loudly and with everyone watching she admonishes, “You’re forgiven, sweetheart.” Lowering her voice so that only I can hear her, she says, “Don’t you ever do it again. It is tacky to leave me waiting on you for so long, Eth. What was the
hold up?” She glares at me briefly before plastering a fake smile and staring down at her menu, which she opens and scans meticulously. A vortex of fury wipes out all possibility of enjoying any part of tonight. Not expecting my reply, she whines, “I’m not sure I feel well enough to eat after seeing Decks with Rad’s trashy whore. I thought for sure after he was busted that little miss trailer park would haul ass back to the tin roof estates in Macon, or whatever Podunk town she slithered here from.”

  “Lourdes,” I interrupt her rant because she is beginning to draw unwanted attention to our table. Britny is biting on her fingernails, tears welling up again and I can’t take seeing her hurt by my unbalanced girlfriend. Forcing down my anger, I lie, “You look very beautiful tonight. I apologize for keeping you waiting.” She smiles at the compliment for a split second.

  “Why did you force me to drive to this part of town alone?” she snaps, gripping the hardback cover of the French menu until her knuckles turn white. I’m not sure why she is trying to guilt me into anything. She drives down to the trap houses located in the worst neighborhoods all over Atlanta without complaining all the damn time. This restaurant is in the quaint suburbia, located only one town over from her home. She explains, “We could have ridden together, like a normal couple.” I want to laugh at that, but I don’t. “When I arrived, I found Decks with that hustler, Angel. It was embarrassing, and the way that he spoke to me…” She shakes her head and her eyes blaze, “…It was completely intolerable. My god, he really believes that she is something special. The idiot is delusional.” A wicked cackle tumbles from her lips, and I think, like brother, like sister.

  A waiter interrupts, taking drink orders. I tell him to bring me a double and to keep them coming. The moment he leaves, she alleges, “Angel is screwing her way through my brother’s little entourage. After him, I guarantee that stupid Irishman is her next mark. I’m certain that if she hasn’t already, Natalie may lose her husband to that two-bit whore, who she foolishly calls her best friend.” That statement right there proves her insanity is unfounded. Shane and Jude would never infringe upon one of their buddy’s relationships, and Natalie will never have to worry about her husband cheating. He is completely devoted to her. “Bitch needs to know her place, and it will never be with my brother.”