A Lighter Shade of Blue (Kings of Chaos Book 2)

by Colt, Shyla

  “That’s the twenty million dollar question,” I say.

  Bolt shakes his head. “I guess it’s something I’ll never get. She used to talk about Aunt Blue like a dog until I told her I wouldn’t sit around and listen,” he whispers.

  I frown. The thought fills me with anger. “She did what?”

  He looks up at me with fear in his eyes.

  “I’m not upset with you, boy. I just don’t take kindly with her mouthing off about shit she needs to not talk about. What did she say?”

  “Mostly, that Blue thinks she’s hot shit and better than us, and that’s why we weren’t seeing her as much, and she moved so far away.” Bolt looks down.

  “You didn’t believe her, did you?” I ask.

  “For a time I did. Aunt Blue just…she suddenly had her own life, and then I realized. She never had to take on the role of a mother like she did. That it was Mom’s failure. And that was a harsh awakening.”

  “That when your feelings about your mom started to change?” I ask.

  “Yeah.” He took a bite of his cone.

  “Well, I can’t fault you, son. I think she sees things in your aunt she wishes she possessed, and it angers her. But I promise you this—now that I’m here, she won’t be running her mouth anymore, especially not around you. I’ll take care of it.”

  Bolt met my gaze, and I saw relief. It made my heart ache. He deserved a childhood. I should’ve taken him from her a long time ago. But with the hours I pull and the need to be ready at a moment’s notice for the club, I couldn’t. “All I want you to do now is be a kid,” I say.

  His eyes dance with mirth and excitement.

  “A smart kid with common sense and street smarts. But a kid nonetheless,” I add.

  “I can do that, Dad.” He grins.

  “Good. Enjoy the hell out of it. In the blink of an eye, you’re going to be an adult. You got plans for after high school?”

  “I want to pledge as a prospect.”

  “Mm-hmm, and do what?” I ask.

  “Whatever needs doing,” he answers with a shrug.

  “You’re a smart ass, you know that?”

  “Learned from the best,” Bolt shoots back.

  “Yeah, yeah. If you get it in your head to go to college, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. The club’s always looking for more ways to be legit. Degrees lend to that.”

  “If something strikes me, I’ll think about it.”

  “All right. You know there’s always a place for you in KOC.” I finish off my ice cream cone before it can become a dripping mess. It’s almost jarring having a man-to-man with the boy I’m struggling not to see as a pre-teen. Parenthood is the most rewarding and hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. He’s the only reason I don’t regret that night with Calla.

  We finish up and head back onto our bikes.

  “What do you think about an upgrade? Not a Harley, but something with a little more kick?”

  “Yeah?” he asks.

  “Yeah, come on, let’s go see Hank.”

  He all but runs to his bike, and I laugh. Hank had been selling us bikes for as long as I could remember. The surly old man with hair more white than gray seemed to be a million years old even when I was a boy. His sun weathered face, along with the deep lines around his eyes and mouth, added to the undecipherable age. I bet he still looks the same, even though I’m different.

  I tilt my head and discover I like the man I’ve become and I know who will complete me. If she doesn’t know I can complete her, I will just have show her what the truth is.

  We pull onto the street, and I smile at the sound of the baby engine of the Black Yamaha SR400 with the dark blue gas tank. The used bike would get him through until he was ready to step up to a big boy. When I don’t see Blue’s car, I frown. Still running? We get off our bikes and walk into the house.

  “All right, Dad, I need to get to finishing my homework or Blue will have my head.”

  I smirk. “Yeah?”

  “Dad, she’s crazy when she wants to be. Don’t let her fool you.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “I’m counting on it. Takes a crazy woman to be an Old Lady.”

  His eyes sparkle. “Really?”

  “I’m working on it, Bolton.”

  He grins as he disappears inside the house.

  I make my way up onto the porch, pull a pack of cigarettes from the pocket inside my vest, and light up. The nicotine rush feels good. I’d kicked the habit in the pen—cigs were power and I couldn’t afford to squander it—but out here, I could indulge when the urge hit. I held the butt between my finger and my thumb wondering what my next step with Blue would be. I’m known for my patience. Revenge is best served cold, and killing quietly with no witnesses is a waiting game. When it comes to Blue, I’ve been waiting, dreaming, and longing too long to even think about going slow. She’s lucky I even let her leave the bedroom. I take a long drag and glance up as a car comes down the street.

  The black Dodge Charger is just the one I’ve been waiting for. I blow out my smoke and stub out my cigarette in an ashtray. She parks, and my eyes are glued onto her ass. My woman is a curvy girl. My teeth ache to sink into her firm flesh. I’d never been about the stick skinny type, and this woman gives me plenty to hold on to. I dig that. I drag my eyes up along the rest of her body and stop at her face.

  Her brow has a crease cutting into her smooth skin. Her eyes are dark with what looks like worry and her lips turn down at the corners.

  I stand and walk to meet her at the top of the stairs. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit, Bluebell. Do I need to go stomp someone’s head in?”

  Her eyes grow large. “You’d do that?”

  “Fuck yes. You have to let them know out the gate you’re not playing. You been without protection for a long time. If I need to update your status, I’m down for it.”

  The shock on her face pisses me off. “Fuck, babe, hasn’t anyone been looking out for you?”

  “I don’t need anyone to look out for me. I can do that myself.”

  “You shouldn’t have to, that’s the point,” I say.

  “It’s just Calla. And me and our usual bullshit.”

  “You went to see her?” I ask.

  “Yes, I needed to get some things straight in my head.”

  “And?”

  She shakes her head.

  I grip her cheeks. “This is me. You don’t bullshit me, Blue. I want every piece of you. No show, no lies, no pretending when you talk to me. You understand?”

  She stares at me.

  “Understand?”

  She nods.

  “Good, now tell me what the crazy bitch said.”

  “She told me into great detail what happened that night you two…”

  “Hooked up?”

  Her eyes spark with anger.

  That’s right, baby. I want you to be mad that someone else touched what’s yours.

  “Whatever you want to call it. She did it on purpose.”

  “Yeah, she did. Told that bitch straight up I was interested in you. But all that’s the past. I’m interested in the future… Ours.”

  “I’m not sure what that is.”

  “I am,” I say, undeterred by her hesitation.

  “You’re so sure,” she whispers with a wondering tone.

  “What’s not to be sure about? I talked to Bolton; he’s fine with it. He’s the only one I care about.”

  “What about the club, my father?”

  “He was cool with it, too.”

  “You asked him?” she all but squeals.

  “Yeah. I know the order of things.” I shrug.

  She shoves my chest and storms off.

  “It’s going to happen, Blue. And for the record, you’re sexy as hell when you’re pissed!” I call out to her.

  She flips me off over her shoulder.

  I chuckle. It’s good to see the fire in her. It means she’s think
ing about something other than that bitter bitch rotting in prison. Some people are like poison. They spread their ugliness everywhere they go. I’m happy she’s finally contained.

  Chapter Seven

  I’ve Got Thick Skin

  Blue

  I love my kids, but today I need this lunch. As I escape the classroom with a wave to my fellow teacher, Jennifer, I feel myself relax for the first time. It was like the behavioral issues came in waves. When it was bad, all the kids seemed to catch the ‘can’t act right’ virus together. It started with my overly energetic three year old, Benjamin, and spread like wildfire. Images of toddlers holding spears while dressed up like Lord of the Flies dances in my head.

  I can’t help but laugh at myself as I exit the building and welcome the sunshine. I breathe the clean air, glance toward my car, and deflate like a balloon pricked by a pin in rapid succession.

  Jamie leans against my car wearing designer sunglasses and a blazing smile.

  “Hey, Jam, what are you going here?” I ask. Didn’t I ask you to give me space?

  “Hadn’t seen you in a couple of weeks, so I thought I’d swing by and see if I could catch you at lunch time. Do you want to go for lunch?” He slides his glasses up on the top of his head.

  I see the longing in his eyes. I can’t turn him away. I sigh. “Yeah , Jam, that would be nice.”

  “Excellent!” He pushes away from my car and his eyes dance with happiness.

  I can’t help but smile back at him. This was what drew me to him, his magnetic personality.

  “I’ll drive. You just sit back and relax.”

  “Thank you. God, you have no idea how insane they were today. It made me wonder if it was a full moon last night or something,” I say.

  He snickers. “Maybe it was.”

  I slip into the sumptuous leather of his sports car, which smells like cherry air freshener and Armor All. He is fastidious about his car, and the quirk makes me smile. So, he’s a clean freak. There are worse things a person could be. He turns on the air conditioner. I close my eyes, enjoying the cool air and the mental break his driving allowed me.

  “We’re here.”

  I open my eyes to find us at the local soup and salad bar, Green Things. He remembered. I glance over at him and smile my thanks. Its only about eleven-thirty, so we beat the rush. “This is perfect.”

  “I remember how much you enjoyed eating here.”

  “Thanks, Jam,” I say. He is sweet. Being with him reminds me of how much I miss his easygoing presence.

  Things have been tense in the house, and I avoid Shadow as much as possible. I couldn’t get my shit straight. I’ve been obsessing over Calla’s words since I went to visit her. Was there something the family had kept from me? Did I want to know? I push the thoughts aside. Right now, I’ll take advantage of his laidback nature. Things with him were never hard. That’s what I like most about him. The lack of complexity.

  After exiting the car we make our way inside. He holds the door open for me, and we take a seat in the far corner. A bowl of soup and a plate of salad later, we’re settled.

  “How have you been?” I ask.

  “Good, a little lonely. I mean, I get that you don’t want to be with me in that way, but I miss you, you know? We spent most of our free time together.”

  “I know, Jam. I’ve missed you, too.”

  “You did?”

  “Of course. We were always friends first,” I answer.

  “I wasn’t so sure.” He pushes the lettuce around on his plate. “I feel like you tossed me aside and never looked back.”

  I lower my head. “I was trying to save you from hurt.”

  “Save me, or yourself? Because you weren’t happy when I met you, Blue, not really. You told me time and time again you didn’t feel like you fit in, and now you’re back with them and closing out everyone else.” Jamie shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “There’s nothing to understand. They’re my family, and they need me. Don’t make it sound like I’m an indentured servant. I was at a crossroads in my life when you met me. I wasn’t sure what I wanted or how to go after it.”

  “And now you know?”

  “Yeah, Jam, I do.”

  “You care to enlighten me? Because I thought it was a happy marriage and a family.”

  I grit my teeth. “And if it is, do you think I have to do it now?” I stare at him, daring him to tell me I wasn’t getting any younger.

  “No. You know I’m not old-fashioned like that. I’m trying to see where your head is at. I don’t want to watch you go from the vibrant woman who loves life to—”

  “I won’t. Listen, I know you don’t get how things work with us, but I’m in control of my life. This is what I want to do, more for Bolton than anyone else.”

  He scowls. “He’s practically a man, and his father is home now.”

  “So I should abandon him? You think a teenage boy doesn’t need a woman’s touch?” I arch my brow.

  “I think you take on a lot of responsibilities that you don’t have to be in charge of.”

  “I appreciate you looking out for me, Jamie, but I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  “Okay.” His body relaxes and he smiles. “I just worry. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  I reach out and pat his hand. “How’s work going?”

  “Good, we’re finally closing in on an account we’ve been trying to get for months.”

  “That’s fantastic! Once you land it, we should celebrate.”

  “I’d like that a lot,” he replies.

  We continue to eat and make small talk. It’s slightly awkward, but progress from the last time we were together.

  My phone rings and I roll my eyes. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Strong?”

  “Yes, this is she.”

  “I’m Robert Bateman, the principal here at Mission High School, and I’m here with Bolton Barnett.”

  My stomach plummets. “Is he okay?” I ask.

  “Well, ma’am, it depends on what you mean by okay. He’s been in an altercation with another student. It really would be easier to talk in person. You’re currently listed as his primary guardian, so we contacted you.”

  “Yes, of course. Let me speak with my employers, and I’ll be there as fast as I can be.”

  “Okay, ma’am, see you when you arrive.”

  “Everything okay?” Jamie asks.

  “No, that was the high school. Apparently, Bolton got into a fight. That’s not like him.” I frown. “I need to get there immediately,” I say, remembering the way the adults around here loved to stick it to the kids of the M.C. because they knew better than to touch the parents.

  “Hey, I can drive you. I’m done with work for the day,” Jamie offers.

  “Thank you. Let me call work.” I told my manager my situation, and she sympathized, urging me to take as much time as I needed. “Okay, I’m cleared from work for the day. They can cover for me. Let’s go.”

  We toss down money, head to the car, and he pulls out of the parking lot.

  I shift in my seat, preparing to do battle. In a town like ours, there’s no such thing as a secret or objectiveness. People see what they want, no matter what you say or do. I know for a fact we provide the children’s hospital with numerous donations and do runs to raise awareness for a bevy of causes. We help those who need help when the cop’s hands are tied. I grew up seeing the men on bikes as knights riding steel horses. I wish others could see it the same way.

  We pull up in front of Mission and park in a visitor’s space. I get out and march to the entrance, leaving Jamie to take care of the car. My flats pound the pavement as I struggle to keep my breathing even and my face impassive. I won’t prove to them we’re all uncouth and rowdy. That’s what they expect and want.

  I travel down the familiar hallway with puke green metal lockers and I’m bombarded with memories. The callous comments of kids who had no clue what the club was like and the leers from hor
monal boys made my four years here less than ideal. I reach the office at the end of the hall, and walk inside.

  The receptionist, Ms. Jenkins, looks exactly the same with her kind eyes, sweet, round face, and salt and pepper gray hair.

  “Hey, Ms. Jenkins.”

  “Bluebell Strong, is that you?” Mrs. Jenkins asks.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m here about my nephew, Bolton Barrett.”

  “Oh dear, all these boys and their testosterone,” she says clucking her tongue.

  I give her a kind smile.

  She continues, “They’re waiting in Mr. Bateman’s office. I’ll let him know you’re coming back.” She picks up the phone.

  I wait with my hands behind my back.

  “You can go in now, honey,” Mrs. Jenkins says.

  I nod my thanks, and walk inside.

  “Ms. Strong, so good of you to join us in a timely manner,” Mr. Bateman says. With his crisp black suit, close cropped gray hair, and sharp features there’s something about him that screams dick. His tone is low and even, like Professor Snape from the Harry Potter movies. He is a new addition to Mission High.

  “Of course.” I glance at Bolt who’s seated on the far left of the room.

  His lip is busted and his right eye is swelling.

  My nostrils flair. My anger flames up like a fire doused in gasoline. I peer over at the smirking blond kid with a fringe of hair, obscuring half his delicate face. I want to take a shot at him myself. The smug smirk on his cupid’s bow lips tells me everything I need to know. The little shit started this. His blackened eyes, bruised cheekbone, and bloodied lip tells me who finished it. “Can you explain to me why Bolton looks like this?” I ask, turning my attention back to the principal with the superiority complex.

  “It seems he and Mr. Alexander got into an altercation. I know Mr. Barrett has been going through a tough time, given where his mother is, and his father just returned from, but we simply cannot use violence as the answer.”

  Mr. Alexander snickers.

  My shoulders stiffen. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with it. I’ve known him a lot longer than you, and I can say with complete confidence he does not fly off the handle as you’re trying to indicate. The boy has never been in a fight his entire school career. I won’t let your bigotry affect his school records. He has a 4.0, exceptional attendance, and a handful of teachers who’ll vouch for him. Can Mr. Alexander say the same? Do you think his record will hold up to Bolton’s? Something tells me it won’t. Matter of fact, I’m willing to bet from the incredibly smug expression and the air of entitlement rolling off him like a bad cologne, he’s been in and out of trouble for years. You see, sir, I don’t care if you like me, his father, his mother, or the Kings of Chaos. You think we’ve made bad decisions, and come from bad seeds, and that’s your right. But I’m not about to let you crucify my nephew for it. Now, you can give them both equal punishment, with equal blame, or you’re going to have a lot of bad press and legal action taken on this school.”