All Blues

by Marie Wathen

  She doesn’t need you. It’s Decks, and it will always be him, I keep reminding myself.

  During last night’s dinner, I was given the cold shoulder by Attacus and Oakley. I get why my bratty kid sister is pissed off, but Attacus should be thrilled that I’m pulling out of the X’kapz. During our family discussion today, I guess I’ll hear all about whatever has crawled up his ass.

  Urban couldn’t stop thanking me for bringing him to the coolest place that he has ever been. I forget that he has only ever been in Birmingham, so I guess that a remote island surrounded by the Gulf of Mexico is a cool place for a kid like him. He and Dean talked nonstop about a video game that they made me promise to provide as payment for having to abandon all of their stuff after I had them moved here on short notice.

  Indie remained silent throughout our meal. Natalie tried to coax her to talking, but the doe-eyed beauty doesn’t trust easily and she never opens up with strangers. With little Simone’s help, I don’t think it will be long before she connects with the Kingsley family. Once she noticed that Indie was only eating her veggies, Simone piled all of hers onto a small plate and slid it across the table. Of course, Indie’s eyes bugged out of her head. She would never eat food after someone else touched it, but the gesture accompanied a warm smile and a promise of a princess dress up session soon. On second thought, I should probably find a counselor on this island for my shell-shocked sister. Quickly.

  On the thirty minute ride over to meet up with my family, I check out the downtown area and do an internet search on the island. It is a huge place, similar in size to Manhattan. There are nearly a million people residing here, and it isn’t too big of a tourist location, mostly because nearly all of the homes are all occupied. The place is gorgeous. Brilliantly jeweled colors touch every corner of this tropical world. And thankfully, the well-known southern humidity is absent. I can see why the natives don’t want to share. On the flipside, being so stingy might make them nosey. I only pray that the people around here don’t dip into their new neighbor’s business. For safety sake, the Sloane family needs to fly under the radar, especially Juan Arturo’s. I sure hope that Max knows what the hell he is doing.

  The car drops me at the front steps, and I take a minute to enjoy the view. I light up a smoke, and walk toward a guardrail along the southern corner of the castle. The sun shimmers along the border of the light blue waters and my mind drifts back to the last happy memory that I had watching a similar sight two days ago. No, I can’t think about her anymore. More important things need my attention.

  “So, that’s what makes you smell so nasty,” a snippy voice calls out behind me.

  Turning around, I crush the butt under my brown loafer and sigh, thinking about the hellish torment that my baby sister is going to put me through until I get her cute butt off this island.

  “You’re up early.”

  Oakley stands with her arms crossing her chest. Her hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail. She’s wearing a white sleeveless wick-away top, black yoga pants and bright blue running shoes.

  “Running,” she replies acidly, while waving a hand over her attire, and rolling her eyes, like I’m an idiot for not grasping the obvious.

  I ignore her attitude. “You couldn’t ask for a more beautiful place to jog.”

  “Whatever,” she growls before spinning around. “You will never convince me to choose living here over being back at home.”

  Agitated with her rebelliousness, I watch her run up the front stairs and give her several minutes before following. Once inside, I track the voices down the hallway that leads toward a large dining area, the same one we ate dinner at last night. I step into the room, a hubbub of laughter and teasing,–even Oakley–and I just stand here taking it all in. Except for a handful of other guests, the room is filled with my friends and family. These people are my life. They are the ones who matter the most, and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do for them. Starting today, my burden is ensuring that my living loved ones are always this happy.

  After joining them for breakfast, I ask my siblings and Jude to join me in the large library located on the second level. With everyone settled, I being to unravel the secrecy of my life for the past two years. I hold nothing back on my reasons for doing everything the way I chose, and it feels good to get that load off my back.

  “What happens now,” Indie asks softly, her brown eyes filled with determination to stay strong. Hearing the truth about our parents, especially about mom’s role in all of it, is probably breaking her heart, but she is taking it better than the other two kids. Urban’s eyes, latched onto me as I pace the length of the room, are the size of saucers and he continues to swallow audibly. Oakley has berated me, asked every possible question imaginable and pulled half a dozen other options out of her smart ass for the past hour, just to get out of staying on this island.

  “The people, who I have been working to bring down, must pay for their crimes. I need to go back to Atlanta and secure the information that it will take for the government to prosecute Nelson.” Indie nods, her gaze never wavering. “The other man, Juan…” I cut my eyes to Attacus, who has kept his back to me during the explanation, looks out the large window pane. I see his posture tense with the mention of the man exclusively responsible for our family being whisked away to this remote island for an indefinite amount of time. My eyes move across the room, making contact with the other four while I continue. “He is another issue. I must track him down and bring him to justice too.”

  “In Mexico?” Oakley snorts and then snaps, “You know, Ethan, it’s a good thing that you’re pretty, because you might just be too stupid to survive this world.” Jude laughs while Indie and I drill her with annoyed glares. “I’m no mafia aficionado, like you, O’ wise one, but I am fairly certain that there is no chance in hell that their corrupt ruler is going to let the US government tiptoe across the border, sneak into a Mexican Drug Lord’s golden fortress, and then smile and wave at our guys as they drag the richest man in their country, one who fattens their bureaucratic wallets with his dirty money, back across that imaginary line. It will never happen. Not without a bunch of people dying in the process. Besides, do you really think that our government really gives a damn about a man who wants to kill our family…and your friends?” She scoffs, giving Jude a look of loathing. “Even if you provide concrete evidence of the blood on his hands, he and we are insignificant to their array. Unlike their elusive great white, we are like a handful of tiny shad, filling the ocean with trillions just like us and completely useless to their profitability. ”

  Dragging his hands down his face, Jude says to me, “She is definitely your kid sister.” Turning to my feminine look-a-like, he asks, “Where do you come up with all this shit?” The freaked-out look on his face is overshadowed by the astonished tone.

  The smart-alecky kid doesn’t miss a beat with her answer, “Wikipedia.” He simply nods and averts his attention back to me, his eyes pleading for me to make it stop. “Again, it doesn’t take a genius to figure this stuff out.”

  I tell her, “Going through the judicial system is the only way that you all will be able to return home safely, Oakley. Before you ask anything else or attempt to entertain us with your fascinating knowledge of this deprave world, I don’t know how long it will take. But, I’m making it my goal to give you the best life possible.”

  “Thanks for trusting us with the truth,” Urban says, finally smiling. I love this kid.

  Nodding without a smile, Indie concurs, “Yes, thank you, Ethan.”

  I don’t expect the same response from Oakley, so I don’t pause with my reply. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t explain it all sooner. I know that you probably worried about me and–”

  Oakley chooses now to cut me off. “Worry about you? You have no idea what we’ve had to endure because of this harebrain idea of yours, Ethan.” She stands, walking over to me. “Do you realize that your face is plastered on the freaking internet every week? Our friends know all
about our playboy brother. You’ve made our family name a bigger joke than anything that our parents ever did. What is wrong with you?”

  Blowing out a heavy breath, I answer, “Again, I apologize for disrupting your life and disgracing our name. But, we’re moving on from the sins of my past and facing the future head-on together. One unit with one purpose–staying safe.”

  Jude’s head-bob behind my petite sister attracts my attention. “I’m all in, and you should never doubt it.”

  “Never will again,” I vow.

  Oakley makes a gagging noise and then asks, “Are we done?”

  Shifting my attention to her, I nod. Everyone files out except Attacus, who has yet to say one word. Seeing him still standing in front of the window, his eyes focused on the roaring ocean below, I decide to hang back. Several minutes pass before he finally speaks.

  “When do you leave?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. His eyes cut across the room, piercing me with anger. “I’m supposed to speak with Max tomorrow. The focus is now Dr. A. I’ll work with him to locate the fucker and then everything can go back to normal for them.” I gesture toward the door that our brother and sisters walked through.

  He snaps, “Are you fucking kidding me, right now?”

  “What is your problem?”

  “My problem is you!” He moves toward me, stopping within a few inches.

  His intimidation tactics don’t affect me. I snap back, “That part is obvious. Do you care to elaborate?”

  “You are a real dumbass if you think that you’re going to just jump on this fucker Max’s ghost hunt and dismiss Juan. Our government won’t get the justice, or offer the appropriate protection that we need to keep them safe.” His index finger thrusts toward the doorway. “You must finish it, Ethan.”

  “I am finishing, Goddammit. Perhaps my decisions in the past weren’t exactly successful. But, I thought that I was doing the right thing. I was wrong.” I shake my head. “Never again. This time I’m doing it the legal way. Juan will pay for his crimes, just like that bastard, Nelson.”

  “Not good enough.” He demands, crossing his arms over his chest, his breaths coming in hard pulls with his disdain. “Did you hear anything that Oakley said?”

  “Yes, but you know as well as I do that she has always been overdramatic. Now we add the teen factor to it, and that little display earlier is what we are graced with.”

  “Bullshit,” he snaps. “The kid is scared shitless. It was layered within her tone and approach. She doesn’t blatantly show her fear like Ban or Indie, but her jokes and attacks are all part of her defense mechanism. She is afraid everything that she loves, which is not back in Birmingham, by the way, will be gone for good. Those three kids lost their parents, had their oldest brother walk out of their lives two years ago, and now everything that they had tethering them to this earth is being ripped away with each passing day. And that is on you, Ethan.”

  “Fuck you,” I growl.

  His fist connects with the doorframe, inches away from my head. “You owe them that much. Do it before they are thrown into their worst possible nightmares. If you don’t, I promise you that it will get worse, much worse. End this shit, and give them their damn lives back.”

  “You have no idea how much I wish that I could do that for them. It must be done legally, or he could walk and then they will never be safe.”

  “You know what you must do.”

  He walks out leaving that shit hanging out there like a wrecking ball with the tension drawn too tightly and ready to destroy everything. As long as Juan breathes, the people that I love are targets. Above all, what I must do is protect my family.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Every person has moments that defines them, shapes their way of thinking, sets the path toward their destiny and identifies their character. I have many, some good, most bad. Admittedly, I am not a perfect person with morals that others should adhere or use as a measuring stick on how to live a just life. And yet, I believe that I’m innately good, at least somewhere deep down within there is a hint of goodness, a flicker of the man I was prior to my obsession with reckoning. Not exactly balanced, hell, there isn’t a damn thing in this world that can balance someone as fucked up as me. The remaining members of my family can attest to that fact. However, when my kin is threatened, all good falls away and a mean son of a bitch arises. As if possessed, I am lead to finish this bullshit. Attacus is right; I must face the end of this case before I can move on. It isn’t fair to leave my brothers and sisters in limbo. Without a word to anyone, my brother disappeared immediately after putting me in my place.

  Today, I return back to Atlanta, resuming my role as Ethan “Blues” Sloane, second in command to the X’kapz drug cartel, hoping that I can evade the vipers that lay in wait to devour me while I settle scores. Before I left Willow Island, Natalie promised me that she will ensure that Indie, Oakley and Urban will be too busy getting acquainted with their new hometown to have time to sulk over the changes, or our forced departures. Also, Jude assured me that their protection is his first concern. With that self-appointed task, he has decided that obtaining a more secured location to live is his mission while I’m away. Because I am like a brother to him, they are now his family too. I trust him inexplicably with my most valued treasures.

  Stepping into my house, I exhale a long, low breath as I hear the clicking of the door closing behind me. My eyes scan the pristine entryway, hearing the bombastic whispers accusing me of my fraudulence. At the foot of the stairs, leading up to the second level, I brace a hand against the railing. With me out of town for two weeks, the air is stagnant. I almost snort at the irony.

  “Time to slay the dragon,” I murmur. Pushing down my resistance to return to this world once again, I stride up to my hidden home office where I strategically plot out the bargaining chips. Decks should be an easy target, but with his recent business endeavors it will take more than a plea from his lifelong pal to convince him that jumping ship is best. Even with him hating Nelson enough to cut his ties, he will see how valuable he is to my department and it’s a guarantee that his demands will be insurmountable. But there must be something, that one thing that matters more to him than just trumping his uncle in the illegal narcotic racket. I just need to figure out what the hell makes Hillary Kennedy tick.

  A little after nine, my phone buzzes with a message from Max. Sam arrived at Decks house early this morning.

  Immediately, my heart jolts back to life knowing that she is in the house next door. Rising out of my high back, leather chair, I stand in front of the window that looks out over his backyard, slathered in shadows, created by the late night hour. Several lights on the upper level are burning brightly–one of them being Decks’ master bedroom. Also, the kitchen is illuminated with a softer glow. After peering down at the open window for a few minutes, I spot a shapely silhouette moving through the room slowly, pausing to stand in front of the French doors. With her back to me, I know that her focus is on the black lake shrouded in darkness. The woman who I was willing to give my heart to, the one I planned to gamble away everything for and the same one who left after I professed my love, is once again falling back into Decks’ arms. Probably landing right into his bed.

  Unable to break my gaze away, I beg from the higher power, “Mercy, dear Lord.”

  And as if He really heard me, she immediately steps from my view. Exhaling loudly, I realize that I’ve spent the better part of eight hours initiating what I believe is a flawless plan, but suddenly I know that it is all for shit. Nothing that I’ve come up with will sway Decks to revolt with me. Promises of monetary benefits or security won’t mean a damn thing to him now. As much as I hate to admit it, there is one thing that will lock this down for good. Angel.

  My hand thrust into my hair, gripping tightly. She’s his, and that is exactly how things should be, I suppose. The only thing left to do is meet with him and convince him that she is the most important thing in his world, and
he needs to do it if for no other reason than to protect her. If I convince him, and he can convince her to go along, at least she will be safely away from Nelson and Juan.

  Strolling out of my office, I dredge down the stairs and make my way down the hallway to my bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, an unusual occurrence. I know when I left that I secured it closed. My internal alarms sound, and I reach for my leather gun holster housing my special edition Glock. Tightly gripping the handle, I edge the door open using my foot, aiming directly into the inky black room. With my right index finger brushing against the trigger, I stretch my left hand over my right shoulder, flipping the switch for the overhead light. The amber glow lights up the entire space. The entire room is covered in a dark substance from the ceiling to the floor and on every wall. My eyes scan for occupants before I move toward the adjacent bath. Progressing forward and expecting someone to be waiting on the other side of the closed door, all of my senses ascend. I press my ear against the thick wooden door and affirm that there are no sounds on the other side.

  In one fluid movement, I twist the cool knob, force the door open, and then slam the same hand on the light switch to the right. Empty. Twisting around, I survey the room, jerk my cell from my pant pocket and call for a cleanup crew.

  A half hour later, Zeke and Bales enter the house, followed by a three-man crew armed with cleansers and tools, ready to rip apart my bedroom.

  “What the hell happened here, Lieutenant,” Bales asks, stepping into the master suite, observing the destruction. His face is slack and his eyes wide with shock.

  “Lourdes,” I supply, pointing toward the message written in a dark crimson stain.

  Following us to the edge of the bed, Zeke mutters under his breath, “Fucking insanity. Looks like a murder went down in here.”