Page 51 of About the Green

Oftentimes, I am just exploring what information has been shared with me online. I couldn't even say that I was truly hunting these men down because they often approach me, and once I start researching, I find incriminating evidence.

Then I can’t ignore the advances and it becomes too much.

Since Vert continues to stick true to his thoughts of us not being on the same team and that he doesn't understand what I'm doing, I will have to figure this out myself.

Blood's beginning to drip down my arm, and I realize now that not having my car sent back to Atlanta was a mistake. And yes, I know that Vert told me to figure out how to get my car in town so that he wouldn't be chauffeuring me around, but I forgot.

So, sue me!

I have a lot on my plate right now. One of the biggest items on there is the body that I now have no way to get rid of without it being an issue.

Everything I needed to do a task like this is in that car.

The nagging and overbearing tone of Vert's previous warnings of me getting in too deep and potentially putting our families in danger and blah, blah, blah is ringing around in my mind as I try my hardest not to panic.

Just his forethought to have my car here should be the indicator that he was on my team. He apparently knew about the utility of my vehicle and he wanted me to have it.

Is that not him being on my side?

I could, of course, call to have someone help me, but that would not keep me in good graces with Racquelle, and I want to stay in her good graces as long as I can.

I put the blade back into its sleeve after wiping it on his shirt. It slots into the place it should in my cheek and I sit on a crate.

She trusted me to come here and do a specific job.

It’s not really my fault that what my passion calls for doesn’t align at the moment.

I wasn't ambitious and I truly haven't been ambitious this entire time. The talk of Vert being ranked higher than me and that I'm so low below him kind of stings. I've been working under Racquelle for years and doing her bidding whenever she needs me. She's even given me a little bit of grace in doing what I’m caught up in right now.

There is no other word for it besides caught up.

Wiggling from underneath his unconscious body was an effort. Keeping my voice normal and level when Vert called me was difficult at best. But now, I need to breathe properly and dead weight doesn’t help with that. My side scrape is doing far better now, but the rubbing of fabric over it—doesn’t feel awesome.

At this moment, I could actually be seeing the worst of Vert's worries coming into fruition.

Racquelle trusted me to work side by side with a man who is comfortably ranked third in our partner family. Even with Vert not agreeing that we are partners—he can't escape the fact that we are for this job.

Vert was not my best option, but it was one that I thought I had. I didn't know that he was in Louisiana again, but I suppose he has to see his kids sometime. And now that I think back, I don't think he's been here on any weekends. But I'm usually doing my own research, looking into these guys, figuring out who my next target's going to be. It’s far too easy to lose track of time when you’re deep diving into someone’s nefarious activities. It’s disappointing how often men are able to fly under the radar when all the disgusting things they’ve done are out there. It’s rarely even hidden but they can get away with it because the police don’t follow the trails. It begs the question of who are the police really protecting if it isn’t the innocent.

And if I'm able to pull this off, finding who is against my queen’s authority, then I could potentially become someone who has status in Lafayette.

Be a true Faye with respect besides the title of Racquelle’s most prized possession. Which I love, don’t get me wrong. Belonging to her is the most important thing that has happened to me in a positive manner. It just doesn’t come with the same kind of glimmer that occupational respect would.

I often use the ways in which I'm underestimated to reach my own goals, but I know for a fact that, when it comes to rising in the ranks among Racquelle, I'll have to prove myself in more than just one way. Being cute and knowing when to stay quiet isn’t enough.

Worrying about my career trajectory will have to wait as there is a far more pressing matter to deal with currently sliding down the wall I’ve propped him up against.

I, at least, had the forethought to bring my sweats, which were helpful in keeping me somewhat free of blood, but I got hot. Rolling up my sleeves wasn’t my best idea, but sweating out my hair and makeup when it was supposed to be the lure wasn’t so great an option either.

Without all of my usual tools here, I am working off of vibes alone, and the vibes—not good.

In platform sneakers, I'm able to get this guy next to a garbage dumpster, but I don't know how the hell I'm going to get him inside until I can figure out a better solution to getting rid of him.

I don't really want to tell anyone what kind of situation I'm in. It's for the best right now that I work through this.

After I had gotten hot and rolled my sleeves up, I didn't realize that some of the cuts I had made on him were a lot closer to the arteries than I originally thought. Moving him had been a bad idea, especially when I had already rolled my sleeves up.

I can feel where the blood is going to dry into the skin, and I'll need more time to scrub that off.