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"But why do you care?" he pressed.
"Because of me," Dad said. "I raised her riding bulls."
Chance just shook his head, his eyes never leaving me. "Why are you doing this, Cody? Why are you pushing through the shit those boys and men have been screaming at you for some sport that doesn't want you anyway? Why are you willing to get hurt..." He tipped his head to my still bandaged arm. "...for a sport that would celebrate you never coming back? Why are you here, Cody, when you could be anywhere else in the world?"
"I have spent my life," I started, but he waved me off.
"No lines and ready answers." He tapped the table. "If you want my money, I want your answer. I don't care how fucking much you cuss as you give it. I don't fucking care if it's pretty. What I want to know is why my partner made me watch a video of you saying these men - who just admitted their sexuality in here - weren't gay and were only being targeted because of you. Why, Cody, are you taking the hits when you don't fucking have to?"
"Because I'm fucking tired of people wanting to throw those hits!" I snapped. "Because you know what? I get to protect my boyfriends the same way they protect me. And maybe I can't even acknowledge I'm dating both of them without causing problems, and I get it if you don't like that, but I'm done with trying to smile nicely and say please. I'm here to fucking ride bulls, and if you want a part of that, then I'll make damned sure they see your fancy little logo. If you got a problem with me, though? Then fuck you. I'm not here to make anyone else happy but me."
"And that," Chance said, "is why Dez told me to do this." He pushed to his feet. "All of it, Max. Rhaven and Braden will finalize everything."
"Mr. Hunter," Max said, stopping Chance with his hand on the door. "Do you even want to discuss the price?"
"No," Chance said. "I want to see a woman break a glass ceiling. I don't care how much that costs. Deviant Games supports those who are, well, deviants. Sounds to me like the three of you fit." Then he looked at J.D. "And when you need a sponsor?" He lifted his hand to his ear in the universal symbol for a phone.
All I could do was laugh. "But I don't know anything about gaming," I told Rhaven.
She just shrugged. "Looks to me like you do. Different game, same idea. Also the same target market. So, all we'll need is your signature on these contracts, and we'll be good to go. I'm sure you'll want to have someone look it over, so text me if you have any questions. My number's on the last page."
"Thank you!" I said as she and the monster man stood up. "Seriously, thank you."
"Make history, Cody," Rhaven told me. "We did, and got rich from it. Sounds to me like it's time to pay that forward. All we want is for you to keep going and keep fighting until the fight is finally done."
"That," I promised, "I can do."
TheShades of Troubleseries features a strong woman and the alpha men who love her. For the purposes of the story, some medical and professional ethics may be bent or even broken.Graphic language and situations that are suitable for a mature audience are included.
Sensitive Content:Mentions of cancer, violence, criminal history, eating disorders, bullying, self harm, and discussions of child sexual assault and trauma.
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Shades of Trouble
Collide: Book 1
Prologue
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Black wasn't exactly our color. Shoulder to shoulder, my only real friends stood silently, watching the casket sink into the ground. They'd traveled from all over the world for this. Paris, Toronto, Denver, New York, Los Angeles, and more. Unlike the rest of the mourners, our little group dared to bring color. Crimson, Teal, Magenta, Cyan, Chartreuse, and more - they were all represented proudly. It was what Gran would have wanted, and we owed her nothing less.
It also made the country bumpkins around us feel uncomfortable. Arranged like a rainbow, our attire raised awkward questions these people would rather not ask, and rightly so. Gran had never hidden that she was a lesbian. She also hadn't flaunted it. That I was having her buried beside her former girlfriend had the small Texas town in a tizzy. That her "family" all wore neon accents and held brilliantly-dyed carnations would cause an even bigger fervor.
I knew how to make a statement, and I intended for this to be a big one. Through all the prayers, I just stared at the soft grey coffin. Through the pretty words and sniveling neighbors, I refused to weep. If I didn't need to be seen, I wouldn't be here. The last thing I intended was to show any grief around these people. I just wanted to remember my grandmother as she'd been in life, not cold and unmoving. I wanted to remember the charming old woman who'd refused to ever grow up, the woman who'd proudly shown dozens of kids a better life. The mentor who'd been willing to share everything with her granddaughter when no one else had. The woman who'd brought color into a dark world.
Then it was time. One by one, the others made their way closer to drop a flower or a word into the ground above the coffin. I couldn't move. This was it.Thismade it real. This was supposed to be closure, but it felt like a knife right through the middle of my heart as white roses and stiff lilies began to pile up. When there was no one else, a stout man wearing turquoise accents stepped forward and released his cyan flower, making sure the color wasn't hidden under the pile of white. It was fitting.
My eyes watched as others did the same and the rainbow piled up. The Shades of Trouble, Gran had called us. Each one had a story behind it. Dark, miserable stories that had only turned bright with Gran's help. While I watched, my eyes tried to blur, but I blinked the tears away. I owed that much to my grandmother at the very least. Strong women didn't cry.
"Violet," a deep voice whispered into my ear. "Say your goodbyes, sweetie."
Blinking, I managed to break my eyes free and turn them on him. He didn't belong here. Ashton's suit was tailored to his athletic frame. His hair was trendy. Even his nails were manicured. With the magenta vest, tie, and pocket square, he made one hell of a statement, and the hand on my back said I was the reason why. Letting out a sigh, I let my head collapse to his shoulder.
"I can't believe she's gone."
"I know." He brushed an imaginary strand of hair away from my face. "We all loved her. That's why we came, because she saved so many of us. She was like the mother most of us wish we had."
