A Lighter Shade of Blue (Kings of Chaos 2)

“You think she’s going to be okay?” Stone asks.

“Of course she is. Did you see what she did to that fuck?” Psycho asks. “It’s in her blood. I raised them to take care of themselves.”

“Sure, she’s whole, but her head?” Doc interjects. “She’s going to need a wizard, and I’m not talking about the one we have.” Doc—an ex-medic—does patch jobs for the Kings with a side of counseling.

“Hey, if she asks for it, we’ll do it. But no one’s forcing shit on her. She deserves the right to choose,” I say.

“Damn, look at you stepping into the role of old man, never thought I’d see the day,” Stone says.

“I was just waiting on the right girl,” I say with a grin.

“Guess so,” Stone replies.

“Enough with this shit, what are we going to do about this mess?” one of the brothers asks.

“It’s already been done. Cleaners are in,” Stone answers as he glares at the brother who just cut in. “None of this is going to be traced back to us. Private eyes have enemies, and Joshua has been off the grid since he left the PD. I doubt anyone will be surprised when either come up missing.”

“Someone must know what they’ve been fucking with,” I reply. “I know they tipped those FBI fucks off.”

“As long as they can’t prove it. I couldn’t give a fuck less,” Stone replies. “Your girl is going to need her shit together, though. That we can’t hide. They’re going to be on her for info.”

“She can handle it,” I state.

“Make sure she does,” Stone says.

“My girl always does what she needs to. We all know that,” Psych interjects, his face looking like stone.

A murmur of agreement goes around the room, and I can’t help but feel proud of her.

“We’re going to come off lockdown tomorrow. I’m hoping with these fuckers out of the way, the tips to the FBI will stop. They stirred up a hornet’s nest. But I figure after their last raid was a bust they’ll step off, instead of risking losing more face,” Stone says.

“We’re going to have someone come over and sweep your house before you go back,” our VP speaks up, “make sure there are no more bugs. We cleaned everything out of his house. But I still don’t want loose ends.”

“We’re done here. Go be with your families. The crisis is over and shit goes on.” Stone nods at everyone.

I stand, feeling ancient. Everything hurts, from my brain down. I move to the dorm, strip down, and crawl into bed behind Blue. At the end of the day, she’s safe. Bolton is blissfully unaware of what went down for now, and we’re all together. I can’t ask for anything more. All I can do at this moment is make sure Blue comes through on the other side as well as could be expected.

Chapter Twelve

Mine

Blue

I sit under the hot spray scrubbing my skin. I could still feel the sticky droplets of Jamie’s blood clinging to my skin, dampening my shirt, and pressing into my flesh. My stomach rolls. I killed a man in cold blood. No—I killed my ex-boyfriend. Did he ever love me? Was it all a ploy? The answers to all the questions are lost to an unmarked grave. I want to ask for more details, but its club business. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s eating me from the inside out. I brought this evil to my family. Gave him a platform and fell right into his hands like a stupid bitch. I’ve never been reckless or unintelligent. I don’t know how I missed it.

The drug induced haze is a jumbled mix of memories of Shadow with kind words, gentle caresses, and relief. He didn’t leave my side or deny me, and I love him for that. He’s also never brought it up again, which I’m also grateful for. I just wish he would touch me again. It’s only been a few days, but his caution is painfully obvious.

The world continues to spin. The club is moving forward with plans, Bolton is blissfully ignorant to the details, and I’m stuck in this strange time loop. What was once an event I looked forward to is now…something I fear. How can I pretend to be happy about being patched when I feel anything but worthy of the title Old Lady?

A knock comes on the door.

“Blue, you got a visitor,” Bolt says.

“Who is it?”

He walks away without answering.

Teenagers. I take a deep breath and rein in my crazy. I know the drill by now—smile, listen, regurgitate information and they’ll think I’m okay. I turn off the faucet, and struggle to my feet. Pins and needles run up my legs. How long have I been sitting in here? My skin is red, and tender. Embarrassment and shame fill me. Why do I care about killing someone who had the plans he did for me? He tried to ruin my family. I should be glad the fucker is gone. Disgusted, I grab my towel, wipe down, and make my way to my room. I throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then pad out front. If it’s my mom, I may have a nervous breakdown.