Blue (Love in Color Book 2)

by S. M. West

  “Van.” His voice deep and hard.

  I turn and see Rylan Wolfe, my best friend and Carys’s brother, standing before me. Damn, it’s fucking good to see him in the flesh. I’ve missed him, but I’m not sure if the feeling is mutual.

  In addition to relief, there’s anger—or is it hatred swimming in his blue eyes? It’s a jab to the chest. I never expected all hugs and laughs, but seeing his fury at me is hard to take. I can’t fault him. I not only left Ma and Carys, I also left him. He’s as pissed as his sister.

  And fuckin’ Dex. He stands beside Ry, the two of them intent on raining hell down on me. I can’t say I blame them, although I’d like to dish out my own shit on Dex right now. This is what I get for not trusting my gut.

  Dex found me earlier today and I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t see him coming; that was on me. I was sloppy and took my eye off the ball, so consumed with what I’d learned when tracking Greg that I let my only weakness, Carys, blind me for a second, and that was all he needed.

  I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that I was deliberately careless. I went the better part of two and a half years undetected, and today of all days, Dex spots me on the fucking streets of Manhattan, and in his neighborhood, no less.

  While getting ready to come out of hiding, it’s as if I let things slide. I let myself get spotted.

  When Dex confronted me, he explained that they’d been searching for me for years. This wasn’t news to me. While all my time undercover had been in hiding, I’d spent half of it covering my tracks, checking over my shoulder. I had not only the best men—my men—looking for me, I also had Ry and Tripp. I couldn’t fucking rest.

  Fortunately, they overlooked what I’d counted on them dismissing: their own back yard. I was right under their fucking noses. The best hiding place is in plain sight.

  While they traveled far and wide in search of me, I was in the city the whole time. I wasn’t proud or smug about how hard I made it to find me. I was deliberate in keeping them at a distance and out of harm’s way. It had to be that way.

  The biggest problem of being in New York City, being so close to them, was that I lived a hell I never knew existed. I paid for the sins of another, while I watched my girl mourn me, hate me, and move on.

  The heaviness in my stomach intensifies as my guilt gets the better of me—guilt for pulling the wool over on my men and my family, and for hurting the only people who love me, no matter what.

  When Dex and I talked, I made him promise not to tell anyone and told him I’d explain everything soon, told him I’d be coming out of hiding and he’d have his answers, if he could just give me more time. He agreed. I should have known he was lying.

  I suppose he felt betrayed, and because of that, had no qualms about breaking our code and going straight to Ry. Now they’re on my doorstep, expecting answers I’m not prepared to give. Worst of all, Sweetness—the one reason I came back—is not only angry at me, she’s planning the future we were supposed to have with someone else.

  “Ry. Come in. Dex, thanks for keeping your word.” I can’t resist the dig, and at least he has the decency to hang his head.

  The three of us form a loose circle in the small space, with their tight faces and tense postures clearly stating their expectations.

  Looking from one to the other, I clear my throat as I prepare my mea culpa. “I’m sorry. I was days away from approaching both of you.”

  Ry growls, pulling at his hair, as his eyes stab me with irritation. “I don’t give a fuck what you were going to do. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I waited for you to call me, to explain, to make me understand why you willingly hurt my sister and gave us no rhyme or reason for your fucking disappearance.”

  “Van, what the fuck?” Dex asks.

  Ry turns to Dex, still clearly agitated. “Dex, I appreciate you calling me, but give us time alone.”

  Dex’s torn between staying, because he, too, has a right, or leaving. I get it; I owe him an explanation. He’s my man. We went through two tours together and shit no man would ever speak of, and he joined my crew when I created Hart Corporation. I owe him a lot, but Ry is another kind of brother and I owe him another kind of explanation.

  “Sure.” He nods before turning to me. “Van, we’re fucking talking tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, he leaves.

  Now

  Evan

  “TWO AND A HALF fucking years, Van. I looked everywhere for you. I called in every favor trying to find you, but nothing. Then, not even twenty-four hours home from my honeymoon and I get a call that you’re back. What the fuck?” Ry’s voice is tight as he lets out a ragged breath and roughly scrubs a hand down his face.

  “I’m trying real hard to give you a chance because the man I knew wouldn’t do that. The man I knew wouldn’t have left without a word, and he wouldn’t have snuck back into the city without calling me. I don’t see that guy here and I miss him. I want him back. This is it, man, you better start talking now.”

  His rage is palpable. I’m used to his anger, have seen it many times, but never, and I mean never has it been aimed at me.

  Hanging my head, I inhale deeply. It’s hard to face him, to see his anger, disappointment, and disgust at me. Next to Carys, Ry’s the one I’m closest to. He’s like a brother to me, and he’s my best friend.

  My stomach tightens with regret for all the shit I put them through. I’m fucking selfish. My actions, the way I’ve handled this—it’s been all about me. I wanted to get to the bottom of it, but I also wanted to preserve their love and respect for me. I was so worried about losing them that my actions may have caused that very thing. I may have pushed them too far and lost my chance to make any of this right.

  “I’m fucking sorry, Ry. I truly am. I have no excuse, nothing that’s going to sit well with you. I owe you more. I had to do something, and at the time, my actions were best for everyone.”

  Before I can go on, he interjects, “What the fuck did you have to do? Did you even think about Ma? Did you think about what your disappearance would do to her? You’re her son. Do you know how many times she asked if I’d heard anything? Or how many times she stayed after Mass or visited Father John to pray for your sorry ass? I won’t even fucking talk about what you did to Carys.”

  Feeling under fire and unprepared, I deliberately don’t answer his first question.

  “Ry, I feared for your sister’s safety, for Ma’s and yours,” I say, sharing my greatest fear and what drove my actions throughout all these years.

  He tenses, his hard eyes boring into mine, as his silence encourages me to continue. “I did what I had to. You’d have tried to talk me out of it if I’d told you. I had to do it, and nothing was going to change my mind.”

  “Stop talking in fucking riddles and tell me,” he says.

  Picking up a bottle of JD, I pour two fingers, hand it to him, and pour one for me.

  “Now, Van. Talk, or I promise you right here and now, as sure as Carys is my sister, I’ll walk out that door and never fucking look back.”

  “Ry.” It comes out harsher than I intend with feeling cornered and anxious at the prospect of losing him all over again, although that possibility may be inevitable once I tell him everything.

  “Talk.” He’s unmoved by my hesitancy. He wants answers.

  “I left because Shadow went missing,” I start. He nods—he already knows this—and I continue to buy time. “I’d sent him on a mission without giving him all the details. I heard something while on another job and I needed someone to check it out. It had to be on the down low.”

  Shadow was my best man for that—his name said it all. In our squadron, he was the best at recon, and that was saying a lot because all of us were highly skilled in reconnaissance, among other things. He could sneak up on the enemy without them knowing. He blended with the shadows, and you never knew he was there.

  “Get to the point, Van.”

  I take one gulp, and the liquor burns my throat but t
hen sits warm and satisfying within me.

  “When a week passed after one of our scheduled check-ins, I knew something was wrong and I was the only one who knew where to look. I wasn’t going to send another man in. The people we’re talking about don’t mess around. If they found out Shadow was snooping, they’d go after his family.”

  For now, I don’t bother to mention the mafia and that it wasn’t the threat to me, but rather to Carys, Ma, and him that concerned me. There was no way I could keep them safe because I was willing to do anything to find the truth, even if that meant exposure or death.

  “Turned out, Shadow was fine. He’d gone dark because he’d spotted an informant who could blow his cover. It wasn’t safe to check in. I got him out, but once I was in, I knew I had to see it through.”

  He’s sitting on a kitchen chair, and his leg bounces as he flexes his toes. He’s on edge, and based on his expression, what I’ve given him isn’t enough.

  “Keep talking, Van. I’m getting sick and tired of this. It’s like pulling teeth. None of this explains why you left. What the hell are you going to say to Ma and Carys when you see them? Do you think that’s gonna wash?”

  “I’ve already seen them.”

  “What?” He abruptly stands, his eyes narrowing into slits, cutting me like a razor’s edge. “What the fuck?”

  “I saw them tonight.” I stand, too, waiting for the news to sink in, while I prepare for his reaction.

  “You fucking dumbass, why? Why didn’t you come to me first? We could have gone to them together. How’d it go?” Ry’s always the protector, especially when it comes to his family.

  With a smirk, I reply, “Better and worse than I expected. Your sister is ticked at me, and Ma’s thrilled to have me home. I had dinner with her and then you picked up my tail, not even a block from there.”

  “Fuck.” He shakes his head at me in displeasure. “I thought you were scoping the joint. I never thought you’d be dumb enough to go in.”

  “Yeah, well, you and I both know I’m not particularly smart where your sister is concerned.”

  He sits with a slight twitch to the corner of his mouth. Is that a smile? Placing his arms on his knees, he hangs his head and stares at the carpet. Silence covers us like a heavy, uncomfortable blanket. It’s so thick with regret, shame, and resentment that it’s suffocating.

  Wanting to end it, I plow forward. “I gotta say, your girl, Tate—she’s beautiful. You were so fucking happy at your wedding. Never thought I’d see the day that Rylan Wolfe settled down. I thought you’d be married to the FBI.”

  “You were there?” He charges me.

  My first instinct is to take him out, but I fight it, fight all my years of training and just stand there. In slow motion, his fist connects, hard, with my face. Even knowing the blow is coming, it doesn’t soften the impact of his knuckles cracking against my jaw and cheekbone. God dammit, he always had a mean hook. It fucking hurts, but I deserve it.

  Swiftly setting up his next swing, he stalls, dropping his fist with a growl when it’s obvious I’m not going to fight back. Never. Fuck, I missed him.

  “Van,” he roars, aggravation and pain etching his face. His turmoil slices through me. “Why? Make me understand. I looked for you. I wanted you as my best man at my wedding. Why watch it from the fucking sidelines? Why break my sister’s heart? I know you love her more than anything, so why the fuck did you do this?”

  Turning his back on me, he walks several feet away. A worthless piece of shit is what I am. I never meant to cause them so much pain. In this moment, I don’t feel any better than my father—a man I used to worship but now loathe.

  I decide to take a leap. He deserves the truth, and now is the time. Ry’s always been there for me, no matter what. Why not put the faith he has in me to the test? I nod for him to sit and I tell him everything.

  Then

  Carys ~ 11 years old

  “EWW, YOU’RE DISGUSTING!” LAUREN shrieks and I lunge at her as she runs past me, rubbing my wet, sticky sweat on her arm.

  Laughter bubbles within me at her dramatic antics. Lauren Donovan’s my best friend and favorite person to torment. She’s easy to ruffle.

  We’ve been friends since the first day of kindergarten, when we were both decked out in pink tutus. From that point on, we’ve been inseparable, though we couldn’t be more different. I’m a tomboy at heart, something Lauren definitely is not.

  She’s the cheerleader type, her dream for high school. Me, I’ll most probably do both, soccer and cheerleading. Not one for labels, I walk the line between the genders. From a young age, Pops instilled in me that there are no limits, that I can do whatever I want.

  He’d say, “Lemon drop, life’s too short to let other people tell you who you should be and what you should do.”

  Pops… I miss him. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him, recall his sage advice, or mentally hug him. Four years. It’s been four years since his death. Some days, it feels like yesterday, and others, like four million years ago.

  I recall asking Evan once whether or not the dead could see us. I’m still not sure, but there are moments when I believe, without a doubt, Pops is with me. I may be alone or in the company of others, but regardless, I’ll feel stronger, more loved, or comforted without any explanation for it. I like to think it’s him watching over me or holding my hand.

  I’ve just finished soccer practice and I’m filthy. Lauren usually sticks around after school to do her homework while I practice. If I have a game, she tags along, supposedly to cheer me on, but truthfully, it’s to socialize and practice her ‘game.’

  We’re pushing twelve and have recently discovered boys—or I should say, we’ve discovered boys can be useful for more than ignoring, scorning, or annoying. With this knowledge comes the new, uncharted territory of flirting.

  “Was that Jon Clausen talking to you outside the locker room?” asks Lauren.

  “Yeah.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He asked if I was going to Sara’s party.” I’m deliberately monotone, attempting to counter her enthusiasm.

  “And what did you say?”

  “That I didn’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? You know he likes you, right?” Her indignation is way over the top, as usual.

  “L, not this again, okay?”

  “I don’t know why you don’t just go out with him! He likes you and he’s cute! Or go out with Ben, he likes you, too!”

  “Maybe because I don’t want a boyfriend.”

  I don’t respond well to pressure, and this is no different. Boys and going out are no big deal, but the way Lauren goes on and on makes me want to run for the hills.

  “Yeah, or maybe because there’s only one person you do want to go out with?” With her goofy grin and exaggerated waggle of her eyebrows, an unattractive snort escapes my lips at her absurdity.

  Lauren’s cute. She’s hates the word, but it describes her to a T. Her thick blonde hair falls to her shoulders and her bangs are just a titch too long, with the ends hanging in her green eyes, which are always wide and smiling. All. The. Time.

  “Yeah, maybe that, too.” I’m hoping with my honesty, she’ll drop it.

  “C, you’re almost twelve, not thirty-two!”

  “I know how old I am, thank you very much.”

  “It’s okay to hang out with guys. Evan does with girls.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “And he’s not exactly waiting for you,” she says. Thank you for stating the obvious. She knows how to push my buttons and does it with minimum effort but gets maximum effect.

  “Shut up, L! I’ve had enough of this.”

  “Hey, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. Look, you guys are probably meant to be together, but you’re young and there are lots of guys out there. Don’t wait around for Evan Hart to notice you. It’s just like me and Ry.”

  My eyeroll is a kneejerk reaction to the topic of my brother
and her we’re meant to be together speech. I’d prefer to poke my eyes out with toothpicks rather than hear it one more time.

  “You know I’m meant to be with your brother, but you don’t see me waiting around for him, do you? I’m having fun with Tyler, so when our time is right, I’ll be ready for Ry.”

  I can’t help but snicker. Lauren is delusional if she thinks they’ll get married and live happily ever after. No matter how many times I tell her it’s not going to happen, she refuses to believe it. Ry sees Lauren, and will only ever see her, as his little sister’s best friend, nothing more.

  “Well, I still think you should go out with Jon.”

  “Argh, stop this.”

  Entering through the back of The Waters, the air conditioning is heaven after the scorching summer heat. My sweat is drying, making my skin tight and itchy. Gross. I whip off my soccer jersey and my damp black tank top clings to my slick skin. I use my jersey to wipe the back of my neck and down the front of my tank, grazing my chest.

  “Who asked you out?” Evan’s voice is low, on edge as he eyes me from head to toe, lingering on my hand still rubbing my damp chest. Goosebumps break out across my body and my belly flutters.

  “Jon did.” Lauren continues with her annoying assault. “Tell me everything!”

  “Yeah, tell us everything,” Evan mocks, his eyes never leaving mine. Kill me now.

  “There’s nothing to tell,” I say coolly.

  “Come on!” Lauren says, turning to Evan. “This guy really likes her and she’s playing hard to get.”

  I shoot her my best death glare in hopes of shutting her up. Completely ignoring me, she claps her hands together. Evan arches a dark eyebrow and folds his arms over his hard chest. He’s athletically fit for his barely fifteen years of age.

  No surprise, he’s growing more and more into a man, less of a boy each day. Even knowing this, I still do a double-take every time I lay eyes on him. His tall, lean frame is filling out with defined muscles and taut lines.

  Unfortunately, I’m not the only one to notice. In fact, too many girls do. With his dark wavy hair, model features, and bad-boy vibe, far too many girls stroke his bulging biceps.