All This Time (23 page)

Chapter
Forty-Three

Sitting
beside a roaring fire in the oversized kitchen, I sip gourmet hot chocolate
while Blues moves around so comfortably while preparing a large pot of soup.
His mansion has a modern touch with the stainless steel appliances, but the old
world decor eclipses the sterile feeling they give off, making it feel warm and
inviting.

For
the life of me, I cannot keep my eyes off the sex-god in front of me. He is so
good-looking with his hair an unintentional rumpled mess. Blues has many
hairstyles, each one is flattering, but there’s something really charming about
his tousled appearance tonight. His fitted gray tee-shirt and faded blue jeans
do not match the setting, but he’s so attractive that he wouldn’t be out of
place in a damn garbage truck wearing a pink tutu. I smile at that thought.

“Tell
me something, Angel,” Blues says catching my grin and mimicking it while he
chops an assortment of vegetables on a cutting board. “I can tell that you are
so much more than you want people to see.” I tilt my head at that odd
statement. “It’s obvious you are intelligent, naturally goodhearted, and sexy
as hell. What are you doing in this shithole world and why are you with Decks?”
The smooth-tongued devil draws me in so naturally that I begin answering him
before I realize what I’m doing. Luckily I somehow manage to stick with my
cover story.

“I
was raised in this world Blues. I guess you could say I’m a product of my
surroundings.” I shrug watching as his eyebrows pinch together. “Don’t worry. I
was a good girl growing up, but the rebel in me needed a release, something
that could keep my mind off all the bullshit that life was throwing at me. You
know?”

He
nods, keeping his eyes fixed on the knife in his hand slicing through a bundle
of fresh green beans. “I get that, but…there’s something else, something deeper
than just being a rebellious teen that drinks from her peer’s cup of Kool-Aid
and becomes a throw away. I can’t put my finger on it, but you don’t have the
fixated lust for this life burning in your eyes like almost every other
junkie.”

“I’m
clean,” I tell him quickly defending myself for some strange reason.
Why
don’t I want him to think that badly about me?
“I mean I’m on probation and
you know how random the color code can be. I won’t go back to jail.”

“That’s
good,” he says, while chewing on a piece of carrot. “You weren’t high the night
I met you either.”

“No,”
I nod, watching his jaw working hard and then my gaze drops to his neck as he
swallows. “Oh,” I mumble, but recover with a cough to cover my embarrassing
moan. Dammit, he’s distracting me again. I need to be the one asking all the
personal questions. “What about you, Blues?”

He
turns away, dropping the chopped veggies into the rapidly boiling water before
answering, “I was raised, too privileged.” He shrugs still facing away from me.
“It went straight to my head. I tried to straighten up for a short time by
becoming an acceptable member of society.” He turns around and I see a strange
darkening in his eyes. “But that life isn’t possible for someone like me. Being
born into the life of luxury, I was raised by my father to be expectant and to
always desire more than what I actually deserve.” That sounded rehearsed and he
does not come across as the person he’s describing.

Using
his words against him, I smirk and toss back, “I don’t see it.”

“Behave,
Doll,” He winks and his grin becomes wicked, “I’m trying to make you something
nice to eat, that will warm you. But I will gladly let it burn and take you to
my bed where I damn sure will have you heated up in seconds.”
Oh damn
.
No need to go upstairs after that threat. I’m completely flushed needing him to
switch on the air conditioning before I have a heat stroke. My face burns as
hot as the fire behind me so I know my reaction is clearly visible to Blues.
“Fuck, you liked my threat,” he growls deep and low, stalking around the
island. Towering above me he slides the back of his knuckles over my bright red
left cheek. “You are so beautiful and I am totally falling for you, Doll.”

“What?”
I pant confused by the thrilling combination of his threat, the feel of his
skin on mine and his confession. I stare into his eyes, seeing more than
desire, and the fierceness of it causes me to swallow hard. I move his hand
away from my cheek, but he captures me and draws my fingers to his lips. He
kisses the tip of each before placing his dark lips in the center of my palm
tenderly. “Blues…” I moan completely enraptured by him.

“Angel,”
he whispers against my hot flesh. Crystallized dark blues eyes hold my world
still on the apex of something reckless and necessary. “Stay with me.”

My
eyes widen from his tenderness and my personal fear of his request, making me
pull away from his hold. “I can’t.” Shaking my head slowly, I add, “It’s just
too complicated right now. Decks is…well, he hasn’t been acting like himself
lately and I don’t think it would be wise to poke that bear.”

He
watches me for a moment and I see him relent as he thinks about my statement.
“Do you know what’s going on with him?” he asks changing the subject.

If
Decks is using Ryske and Blues isn’t aware then I’m not sure if breaking that
kind of news to him is a good idea. Shaking my head and lowering my gaze, I say
softly, “I really don’t know.” He continues to watch me before finally stepping
away and wordlessly returning back to the pot on top of the stove.

Even
with the fire blazing in the room, I feel a temperature drop with him moving so
far away from me. I know it’s completely bollocks for me to fancy him, but I
think his description of how he is falling for me is an accurate analogy for
what I’m suffering with too. However, mine is a fall from grace that began the
moment I screwed Blues rather than trifling and unrequited emotions

Blues
stirs the soup remaining silent for several minutes. He finally turns to me and
I see that he is pulling a fake smile while he thrust his hand through his
messy hair, clearly struggling with appeasing my earlier request. Needing to
calm the odd guilt rolling around in the pit of my belly I change the subject.

“What
did you do during this acceptable member of society stint?” I ask watching him
intently and seeing a spark flash in his eyes. Could it be pride? Now I’m even
more curious and need to know what pushed Ethan out of law enforcement and
right into the opposing world of drugs.

“I’m
not sure that’s acceptable table discussion,” Blues says, pulling up a barstool
and sitting next to me. His knee brushes against my thigh and I force myself to
remain in control.

“Let
me be the judge of that,” I say playfully.

He
bobs his head, staring at my cast laying on the counter top and starts,
“Believe it or not, I was an officer of the law.” There is definite pride in
his voice. Since I’m also a cop I recognize that tone easily, but play it off
with feigning shock. He glances at me and continues, “Yeah, that’s the reaction
I always get when I tell people that I used to be one of the good guys.” He
chuckles softly, glancing over at our meal still cooking. “I had a good run
with it, but something just…snapped and I decided I was done with all the goody
two-shoes bullshit.” His demeanor shifts instantly and a bitterness blooms in
his voice. “About a year ago I decided to accept Nelson’s offer to be on his
payroll. My father was one of his closest associate so it didn’t take long for
me to move up the ladder, so to speak. And here I am…one of the most powerful
men in our organization.” He winks, but he doesn’t look happy about being on
the penthouse level of the drug-world food chain.

“What
happened? I mean with the police job.”

He
turns back to me and holds me in a frozen gaze before he finally says, “That’s
a story for another day, Doll.”

I’m
totally disappointed. I was hoping that with his confession of feelings for me
that he would give me more on what pushed him into this screwed up life.
Deciding that I want to make Blues an ally I don’t push the issue and soon our
conversation drifts to non-threatening topics.

“Fifty yard line tickets?”
Blues asks smiling with a renewed
sparkle in his eyes. “You have to do it.”

“No,”
I say dragging the word out while shaking my head dramatically. “You don’t
understand. I’m like allergic to kids or maybe it’s more like their allergic to
me. Either way, I don’t need that hassle. Natalie and Wise will find the best
person to keep their kids alive while they go to the Super Bowl.”

“What
if I offer to help?”

I
arch both my eyebrows toward the ceiling before I laugh, “You, me and two kids.
That’s a riot. No. I don’t think that’s a good idea, Blues.”

“What?
You don’t think I could keep them alive for forty-eight hours? I think you
underestimate me, Doll. I am a people person and kids adore me. You and I
together would be the perfect tag team against a couple of kids.” He flashes a
lopsided grin so adorable I actually think he might be telling me the truth
about his powers of persuasion. Maybe I should accept his challenge so I can
see that side of him for myself.

Chapter
Forty-Four

Brunch
with the Kennedy’s is the only reason I am up so dang early on a Sunday. I
straighten my hair and apply a light amount of makeup, looking natural and
actually feeling more like myself since starting this assignment. The outfit
I’ve chosen is a fitted butterscotch colored cowl neck shirt with dark blue
jeans and leopard print heels. I grab my ivory trench coat and walk downstairs.

After
eating dinner with Blues last night, we sat on the couch and talked about
random things, nothing personal, while eighties hair band’s songs rocked out in
the background. It was so easy and comfortable being with him that my guard
dropped and I forgot for a while that he’s the bad guy. About an hour later
Decks showed up smelling like some nasty, cheap perfume mixed with marijuana
smoke which leads me to believe he’s getting his fix rather than waiting for
me, like he promised. Being with both men at once is a challenge to say the
least. My body has completely opposite effects for them. I am repulsed by Decks
and my body reacts as such. My prickly skin and the hair standing on the back
of my neck cautions me to avoid him at all cost. Unfortunately, I need him and
must push down the flight scenario that my mind is encouraging. But with Blues
around, the goose bumps and tingling he ignites with a simple look in my
direction exposes me as a wanton slut. I battle with everything in me trying to
convince myself that he isn’t turning me on, but it’s all a big fat ass lie.
And after spending the evening with him, I am disheveled and hungrier for him
more than ever before.

“Good
morning,” I say walking into Decks office. He sits quietly staring out the
large window over the backyard.

“Hey,
gorgeous,” he says, spinning around and walking over to me. “Are you ready to
face the family again?”

“Ready
as I’ll ever be.” He takes my right arm and escorts me out to his truck.

When
we arrive at the large estate, I feel a strange sensation run through my body.
Being back here brings back memories of the wedding day and how dismissive
Decks Uncle Nelson was to me. A sneaky smile spreads across my face as I
fantasize about the look on Mr. Kennedy’s face when he sees me after I end his
rule over north Georgia. I’ll bet dismissive is the last thing he will be then.

“You
look really happy today,” Decks says holding my hand as we enter the house and
walk toward the dining room.

“I
feel better so I am happy.”

“Hello
Hillary,” Camille says as we take out seat at the large dining table. Her eyes
sparkle when she recognizes me. “It is so nice of you to join us, Angel.”

“Thank
you Camille. It’s lovely to see you as well.” Sam Walker slips out on that
response and a sparkle of happiness pops in Mrs. Kennedy’s eye at my proper
manners.

Brunch
begins at ten thirty on the dot without Nelson. After eleven he graces us with
his presence, grabbing a quick bite and telling Decks that he must speak with
him. They head upstairs leaving me alone with Camille. Trying to come up with a
plan to hear what they are discussing, I ask her to show me pictures from her
daughter’s wedding. As luck would have it she invites me upstairs and directs
me into a large family room located across from Nelson’s office. Camille points
toward a closed door as we pass it, assuring me that Decks will see us when his
meeting is over. Now to come up with a masterful plan that will allow me to
overhear the conversation behind that closed door.

“Can
I trouble you for some water? I was supposed to take my medicine with food but
I forgot.”

She
smiles sweetly, placing the large photo album on the coffee table and stands,
“Certainly dear. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just make yourself
comfortable.”

After
I hear her shoes clacking down the stairs, I slip my heels off and tiptoe over
to the sealed door, pressing my ear against it. I am giddy when I hear their
voices aren’t as muffled as I expected. From what I can hear they are
discussing the
Hijos
de la Sangre and Nelson isn’t
happy about the recent death of Juan’s nephew.
Decks doesn’t
admit to anything, but it’s clear that Nelson holds him responsible.

“Do
not make me regret everything I did for you Hillary. You have no idea what I’ve
sacrificed so that you would have a better life. One that your parents, God
rest their souls, refused to provide for you,” Nelson growls furiously.

Decks
responds heatedly, “Nelson, I don’t get what you think you gave up to help me
after my parents died. The only one who relinquished anything was me. And if it
hadn’t been for me getting popped with paraphernalia and held in juvenile until
you picked me up, I would still be living that way. You really think this life
is so much better than living on the streets? You’re wrong.”

“It’s
too bad for you that you will never know what could have been. I own your ass.
Do not forget it for one minute. You get the shit with the
Hijos
de la Sangre straightened out before more blood is shed.” Lowering his voice he
says, “If it isn’t already too late.”

Feeling
a tap on my hand, I jerk my head around and don’t see anyone, until I look down
and find a cotton hair little boy looking up at me with his forehead crinkled
and his eyes fixed on me. “Hey,” he says charmingly. I’m not sure of his name,
but he is one of Lourdes’ twin sons.
Shit
.

“Hi,”
I say keeping my voice low and trying to get my heart rate back to normal, I
hope he doesn’t realize he has busted me on eavesdropping. Walking away from
the door and the men’s private talk I say, “I can’t find the bathroom. You look
like a big boy who knows this place pretty well. Could you show me where it is?

He
grins as he reaches out for my hand. “I know where everything is in Uncle
Nelson’s house.” He stares curiously at my cast covered arm. “Did you fall
down?”

Not
wanting to give him the gory details of my accident, I say, “Yeah, I fell.
Lucky for me something broke my fall and in the process it broke my arm.”

He
laughs, “You’re funny. I’m Jonesy. What’s your name?” His big blue eyes twinkle
staring up at me and sporadically glancing from my face to my arm as we
continue walking.

“My
name is Angel,” I offer as he points toward the closed door at the end of the
hallway.

“That’s
the potty,” he states smiling proudly. “Bye, bye.” He bounds away from me and I
watch as he hops down the steps one at a time. After his head disappears behind
the railing I sneak back toward Nelson’s office. I know I probably only have a
few moments before Camille returns, but I can’t resist trying one more time.

“…ships
to Nassau. I expect you to be there Tuesday. Whatever endeavors you are working
on the side ceases now. I won’t tolerate you screwing this one up,” Nelson says
with finality.

I
hear clacking heels quickly ascending the stairs while a familiar little voice
talks at a fast pace. I rush toward the family room and slip back into my
stilettos just as the two boys, Camille and Lourdes enters the room.

“Are
you kidding me?” Lourdes demands loudly, seeing me standing in the middle of
the room pretending to be looking at pictures, hanging on the walls. I turn my
head to glance over my shoulder and am greeted by an ice cold glare from the
Queen B. It is remarkable how different her sons’ looks are from hers. Both
boys run over to me and Jonesy begins chattering about who I am and what
happened to my arm. Still standing in the doorway, Lourdes interrupts, “What
will it take to get you out of our lives? Wait! How does my son know who you
are?” She stalks over to me and glares with hate filled blue eyes. They may be
the same color as her sons’, but there isn’t a bit of compassion shining from
the hollowness of her eyes, like what Jonesy showed me earlier. “Well?”

“Your
charming son escorted me to the powder room like a real gentleman,” I answer,
plastering a sweet smile as I glance down at the adorable little one now poking
his chest out proudly. “Thank you again, Jonesy.”

“You
little –” her words are cut short when Decks strolls into the room.

“Sis,”
Decks shouts. Scrubbing his hands over the heads of the twins, he pierces her
with a daring stare. Lourdes swirls around with a shriek, mumbling about my social
status not matching up as she leaves the room. From my experience she is a
woman on the verge of a severe breakdown. I smile just thinking about how
entertaining it will be when she loses her shit.

“Uncle
Decks, she’s an Angel,” Jonesy says grinning up at Decks while pointing at me.
I laugh at him twisting his words.

Decks
looks from him to me and with heat filled eyes that run the length of me before
he replies, “Yes she is.”