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Authors: Kassanna

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Multicultural & Interracial

Rising (12 page)

BOOK: Rising
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“I ain’t near done with you.”

She relaxed her legs.

Positioned between her thighs, he reared up and gazed down at her. “You’re beautiful with your hair across the sheets, I wish you could realize how lovely you are. Too nice for a good ol’ boy like me, but Savannah, I’m willing to tear through heaven and hell to keep you.”

In one swift movement, he sheathed his rod, balls-deep. He pulled out, leaving just the tip of his cock in her opening, and then lunged deep again. She arched, pushing off the bed. Her channel undulated around his shaft.

Pounding into her pussy with jackhammer precision, he traced her collarbone with his tongue. Sensations rushed along his nerve endings, like the touch of lightning bug wings skimming across his body. She grasped his triceps, scratching the back of his arms. His balls drew up. He closed his eyes and brightly colored dots floated in the darkness.

Savannah bent her knees and drove her pelvis up, meeting his thrusts. Riley opened his eyes and gazed down, meeting her stare. She grasped the back of his neck and rose up. “I’ll take it all,” she whispered against his lips.

He slid his arm under her shoulders, holding her close. He felt her passage tighten around his rod, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Riley nuzzled her throat, sucking on the spot under her ear. She dropped her head back, and cried out. Her legs went slack and her essence enveloped his shaft. Her release sent him over the edge.

He couldn’t catch a breath; his heart beat so fast he was sure it would explode right out of his chest. He plunged deeper and spilled his seed into her sheath.

****

Damn, she couldn’t move; not that she really wanted to.

She knew sex with Riley would be great; but he’d gone above her expectations. The bed shook. Savannah opened her eyes in time to see Riley’s bare ass as he moved into the bathroom. She reached above her and yanked at a pillow to place under her head. Running water drew attention back to the room Riley had disappeared into.

He reappeared with a cloth in his hand. Gently, he rubbed the warm wash rag across her thighs. “Open your legs.”

“I can do it.” She reached for the nubby material.

Riley held his arm up. “Let me take care of you.”

Reluctantly, she spread her legs. Softly, he wiped her slit, and touched her clit. Currents sent electricity buzzing along her nerves and she spasmed.

He looked toward the window. Light poured through the glass panes. “Up for a few more rounds, Sweetness? We got plenty of time.” He looked back at her.

“This ain’t the Olympics. We got time before the next event.” She turned her head to keep from smiling, but not before she saw his mouth twitch.

The sound of firecrackers popping rent the air. Who the hell would be setting off fireworks? They were the only people there.

Riley covered her with his body and rolled them to the floor. “Stay here.”

Gone was the gentle man that just wiped the stickiness from their lovemaking off of her legs. His expression turned cold and there was a definitive set to his jaw. He yanked a drawer out of the nightstand. Its contents tumbled across the floor. Among the items was a gun. He gripped the handle, rose up into a crouch, and slipped into the hallway.

She patted the stand top for her cell and grabbed Riley’s instead. She could call the police—wait, that wouldn’t work. The few times she’d mentioned them, he’d quickly dismissed calling the authorities.

Savannah tapped the screen and his cell opened up. “Are you kidding? You’re supposed to be some big-ass Aryan-skinhead -I-run -regional shit or something, and you don’t lock your phone.” She shook her head and scrolled through his contacts.

More popping.
What were those men names he called? The clean-up crew… Bono? Buddy? Fuck, what was the other guy’s name…it was a dog…Irish…Setter.
She searched for Setter on the screen and hit the call icon.

“What?” A gruff voice filled the earpiece.

Savannah tapped the speaker and pulled the sheet from the bed. “I think Riley might be in trouble.” Carefully, she crawled out of the room.

“Who the fuck is this?” Sound burst from the cell.

“Shh. Savannah.”

“Little girl, stop playing on grown men’s phones.”

“Wait, somebody is lighting firecrackers, and Riley took his gun with him.”

She knew she wasn’t making sense, but if this guy at least cared about his friend, he would come and investigate. “Get here now.”

Savannah disconnected the call. She duck walked down the hall, into the kitchen. Riley was nowhere to be seen. Softly she crawled to the French doors.

Some kid stood beyond the porch with a gun, taking potshots at the house.
How the hell could his neighbors be bad when he didn’t damn have any?

“Come out, ya damn zookeeper. Isaac sent you a message!” The boy weaved on his feet. His arm kept dropping to his side, like the weapon was too heavy for him to hold.

“Justin, boy, you ain’t learned your lesson the first time.” Riley’s voice drifted through the air. “Find your way home, ol’ son, and stopping messing in grown men’s affairs.”

“Come out. I been watching, and I saw you humping that Negress. I got to know, does she taste like chocolate? After I deliver the message, I am going to tie that bitch up to my fender and drive over to Isaac’s house so everybody can share her.” The teen stalked up to the porch and set his foot on the step.

She backed away from the door and glanced at the countertops, searching for a weapon.

“Justin, move any closer and I will kill you.” Riley stepped away from the bushes, surrounding the porch. He set the muzzle of the gun against the kid’s temple.

“Please don’t hurt me.” The young man’s eyes grew big and his mouth formed an O.

Riley shook his head. “You picked the wrong side.”

Naked, Savannah watched as the muscles in his arm tensed. He didn’t show any emotions, and she was scared for the person he pointed the weapon at.

“Isaac was right, you’re a pussy,” Justin screamed. “A sambo-loving bastard.” He pounded on his chest, hitting the tattoo of the swastika wrapped in the Confederate flag emblem. “These are the true colors. Our time has come!”

“You stupid little shit.” Riley slid back the top of the weapon. “Isaac doesn’t give a fuck about you, and neither do I.” He pulled the trigger. Sounds exploded through the clearing.

She jerked, and covered her mouth with her hands.

Riley stepped over the body and trotted up the step. He entered the kitchen and glanced down, cocking a brow. “I told you to stay in the bedroom.”

“You killed that kid.” She stood and gazed past his shoulder, through the door at the body crumpled in a heap at the foot of the stairs.

“That
boy
was coming for you.” His words were chilly. He stopped to touch her cheek, and she dodged his hand. He let it drop to his side. “I’m going to put some clothes on and make a call. You need to get dressed now.”

“I already called your friend.” She held up her arm and opened her hand. His phone rested on her palm.

He stared at the device, and then looked up at her. “Who?”

“The dog breed—Setter?” Numbness made it hard to speak, she backed away, tearing her gaze from the body lying outside and walked to the back bedroom. “I need pants…and another shirt.” She spoke over her shoulder so she wouldn’t have to look at a cold-blooded killer.

Minutes later, voices yelled out and vehicle doors slammed. “I told you that boy was going to be trouble.”

“Shut up, I have company,” Riley snapped, his tone floating through the house.

She cracked the bedroom door open and watched as he passed her room, clad only in jeans. A few minutes earlier, he’d brought her some more clothes, along with her cell.

“Isaac sent a messenger, but Justin pissed me off, so I didn’t get to hear the message.”

“Well, that was plain stupid.” Setter and the other bearded guy stood in the kitchen. Their imposing figures blocked the exit. “He might have wanted a truce.”

Riley combed his fingers through his hair. “Crazy, wanna-be drug lord, King of the Klan Isaac? Ol’ son, have you been hitting his pipe, too?”

The big guy chuckled.

“Go to hell,” Setter groused.

“I need to take care of business here. I have some loose ends to tie up.” Riley walked between the men and gazed out the door. “Go with Bubba, grab a few trusted men and leave Justin on Isaac’s doorstep.” Riley peered over his shoulder. “A fucking waste and no one mentions this to Bobby Jack. We handle Isaac and keep my cousin’s hands clean; understand?”

“Yeah,” the guys answered in unison.

Riley turned the knob and the barrier swung open. “If Clay or Andy is home, beat their asses. I want it clear no one brings bullshit to my door.” He followed them outside.

Chapter Eleven

Savannah shut the door and held her palm across the seam where the barrier met the jamb. She rested her forehead on her hand. Riley was a dangerous man and she’d jumped down the rabbit hole to follow him.

Her cell phone buzzed and she tapped the screen without thinking.

“This passive-aggressive anger nonsense is getting old. When I call, you need to pick up. I don’t like having to track you down.” Her mother’s disapproving tone washed through her.

Could her day get any worse?

“Della,” Savannah murmured. When would they ever let up? It’s not like she had anything left for them to take.

“I’m a little busy right now…” Savannah stepped away from the door and sat heavily on the bed.

“I’m your mother,” Della snapped.

A short, half laugh escaped through her lips. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, her stress level spiked. “You haven’t been my mom for a long time.” She leaned on her knees.

“Regardless, I gave birth to you, and children have responsibilities to their parents.” Della’s chilly attitude came through loud and clear.

“Really?” Savannah dropped her head. “What do I owe you, Della? What do you think I owe you that you haven’t already claimed?”

The bedroom door opened, and Riley leaned on the jamb. He was dressed in tattered jeans that had seen better days, and a long-sleeved camo T-shirt. “Hang up, Sweetness.” The brackets around his mouth softened. A long sigh escaped past his lips.

“If you didn’t want anything, I’ll just go now.”

Talking to the man that protected her over the last few weeks was more important than anything Della had to say. At that moment, she wanted explanations from Riley. If she was going to straddle her world and his world, then she needed to understand where he was coming from.

Savannah snapped her head up. Her realization was not only enlightening but earth-shattering; she’d made decisions and hadn’t realized it.

She wanted to be with Riley, no matter what the hell was going on around them.

“We’re broke!” Her mom blurted out, garnering Savannah’s attention. “If you don’t speak to us, at least have the decency to help your family.”

Sadness enveloped her. For as far back as she could remember, all she ever wanted was a few kind words from her mother. An “I love you” would have made her day as a child. Unconditional love—wasn’t that what a parent was supposed to offer their child?

She stared at Riley. He’d never uttered the word love; not once did he pretend to be anything other than what he was, but in the short time she’d known him, she knew she was cherished.

Riley reached for the cell. She shifted away and sighed. “I need do this.”

Savannah clutched the phone tight. “Della, you went to Europe every year for twenty years on vacation, along with Ronald and Charlotte. How many times did you take me?”

“You were always busy-y,” her mother stuttered.

“Yeah, I had a full schedule when I was ten. Charlotte was in cotillions and pageants from the age of six. How many did you enroll me in?” Her anger fired up and sizzled out. They didn’t deserve her anger anymore, and she truly owed them nothing.

“It’s all water under the bridge now. What matters is your father and I need your help now. With Charlotte’s upcoming wedding, I need a mother of the bride gown and your sister needs the deposit to secure her new home afterward.”

“Ronald. Is. Not. My. Father,” she enunciated coldly. “Why do you hate me? I have held down a job and worked toward my goals since I was fifteen, while you lived off the funds my father meant for me to have. You have vacationed, golfed, and enjoyed all the benefits of wealth without actually earning a living. Sell the house, tell Ronald to find a job, and Charlotte, too, while you’re at it.” Tears brimmed her lids and overflowed to roll down her cheeks. “Looking back, I am sorry I wasted my time in seeking your approval.”

The bed dipped and Riley curled his arms around her from behind her. He nuzzled her ear. “Hang up, Sweetness. Fuck ’em.”

“Your feelings are a moot point. You are my child, so I have no choice but to tolerate you. If you don’t help us, we will pack up and move to Alabama to live with you. You seem to have forgotten that it is only because of Ronald and I that you have gotten anywhere in this world.”

Her family, Trenton; why did everyone involved in her life believe that they had a hand in what she’d managed to make out of it? “I don’t think I heard you correctly. Wh—” She shook her head.

Riley eased the phone from her fingers. He lifted the phone to his ear. “Listen close. I will burn your shit down while you sleep in your beds if Savannah sheds one more fucking tear over you.” He disconnected the call and held her to his chest. “Sweetness, babe, you need to learn family will be the first to victimize you.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back, secure in his arms. “Wanting to be loved by your mother is so wrong?”

“No, but everyone has a different perception of that emotion. My Uncle Isaac thinks beating a body down with a razor strap is love.” He snorted. “Bad example; that is one sick son of a bitch.”

She smiled and rubbed her head against his shoulder. His chest rumbled as he spoke. The reverberation through her back was comforting.

“I can’t take away the pain of your childhood, no matter how badly I want to, but you ain’t alone, baby.” He rested his chin on her head. “A while ago, I found out that the woman I thought was my mother wasn’t, and the woman that is—was—my mother was raped. Talk about fucked-up beginnings.” He rubbed his jaw against her temple, and his beard scratched her skin.

How could she respond to that?

She tipped her head to the side to look at his profile. “I’m sorry.” Those two words felt so inadequate.

He looked down at her. “It’s life. I have learned to plan for the unexpected.”

“So if your mother had a problem with you, then you would know why? I have no idea why my mom and her husband have done what they did.” It was freeing, telling someone about her life. She’d kept it bottled up for years, scared to admit that maybe something was wrong with her and that was why she wasn’t wanted.

“Relations are strange. I haven’t known you long. With what I do know, I find it hard to believe that you did anything to make them dislike you.” He snickered. “I’m no psychologist, but it sounds like it goes deeper than that. If you need to know for sure, then I will find a way to make that happen.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” She shook her head, feeling relief combined with sadness. Letting go wasn’t easy, but it was something she had to do to keep her sanity. “I’m here and they are there. Della’s threats are most likely empty ones.”

“Bubba and Setter will be back in a bit. I’m going to be gone for a few days on business.” He released her and scooted to the side. “They will make sure you get home safely. You’ve been seen with me and that has brought you to the attention to some powerful groups. Hunker down in your place until Bobby Jack tells you it’s safe.”

“Why won’t you be able to contact me?” She pulled at the wisps of curls caught in his facial hair.

His brows came together, and a rueful frown turned the corner of his lips down. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get word out to you, but my cousin and I have mutual friends.”

His implications cut like a sharp knife. No matter how much they ignored it, she was still black, and the people in his social circles didn’t like other ethnicities. “Will you be all right?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Savannah focused on the large tattoo covering his chest. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to read what she might see in his eyes. “What does this mean?” She changed the subject; anything was better than actually talking about their reality.

Riley peered down at her finger. “I was angry and stupid when I was young. I blamed people I didn’t know for the shit going on in my life.” He held out his arm and skimmed his hand over his torso. “People think this is a sign of hate—and once upon a time, it was—but now they are just reminders not to fall for the bullshit again. Eighty-eight means
Heil Hitler
. H is the eighth letter in the alphabet, while both words start with an H. This cross is a swastika. The four leaf clover allows other Aryans to recognize me without having to say a word, especially in the jail system.”

“Codes?” She touched the parts of his body he indicated. “Your world is messier than mine.” She swallowed. “You know what—I’m not attached to Mobile. I just happened to have a friend here.”

It may have only been weeks, but she was safe and secure with Riley. Maybe they could leave? Find another city, and she could work as a paralegal until she passed the bar exam for any state they moved to.

“I like the area. Work is close, a simple boat ride away. What little relations I do have are here and I ain’t never run from a damn thing in my life.” He tapped the tip of her nose. “I know it’s hard to understand, but there is only one way for me to leave NWW and I will be black-hatted the minute Bubba and the guys dropped Justin’s body off. Now there are only loose ends to tie up.”

“Black hat? Is there anything I can do to help?” She rose from the bed and turned to face him.

“Some folks don’t like the way I handle business. Black hat means they will be looking to kill me.” He stared past her before closing his eyes. “There is something I should have done a long time ago, but never had the nerve.” Riley jumped to his feet and strode out the bedroom door.

Savannah trailed behind him as he padded to the kitchen. He stopped before the small pantry and shoved the bifold doors open. After scrounging through the sideboard, he produced a rusty old coffee can. The lid snapped off the red and yellow container as the seal was broken. She bent over to look into the tin. Small, thick packets occupied an otherwise empty space. Riley reached in, and pulled out a yellowing envelope with bits of brown dust coating the bottom.

“This belongs to Bobby Jack. Can you make sure that he gets it?” He thrust the paper in her direction.

She took it in her hands. “Wait… I’ll give it to h—” She couldn’t get complete sentences out.

“Motherfuckers weren’t home, Got the body on the porch before Lydia started taking pot shots at us,” Bubba interrupted them as he entered the kitchen, with Setter right behind him.

“Bitch lucky I don’t hit women,” Setter grumbled and let the door slam behind him.

Riley clutched the other envelope in a fist, and shoved it in his pocket. “All we can do is wait.”

Savannah glanced down at the spidery scrawl before folding it. She nodded at Riley’s friends and went to find her purse in the family room.

She’d been to his house a few times, but had never actually paid attention to her surroundings. Instead, she always focused on what was happening right then. Books lined two walls and a large flat screen TV hung above a stone fireplace. Two large love seats sat catty-corner, one facing the TV while the other faced the shelves laden with books. A sofa table was placed behind the small couch, stretching the entire length of the seating area.

Her oversized bag was sitting where Whit said she’d left it. She slid the envelope in a side pocket before picking up her bag and moving toward the guest bedroom.

Walking through the house she realized there was no neo-Nazi propaganda, nothing that would reflect his views regarding race and color. There were a few pictures of him with his friends, with his cousin. One picture of him holding a fish up and grinning brightly.

She’d seen the shows on television, and watched interview with racists, but he exhibited none of those narrow-minded traits, except for the tattoos on his body. She rubbed the back of her neck where tension was building. Riley was a walking contradiction.

The faint chimes of a cell drifted through the house. Grabbing her cell off the bed, she went in search of Riley. She stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. The men had their backs to her.

“Next time you want to make a point, send a man to do the job, not an injured boy high on meth.” Riley’s voice held an edge.

There was a pause.

“Name the place.”

The guys crowded around the phone.

“I expect it. I’ll be there.”

The fellows stepped back, giving Riley room. “You believe Isaac?” Bubba cocked his head to the side.

“Hell, no, but do I have a choice?”

“Don’t do this, Riley Joe. It’s a setup, it’s gotta be. The smell of blood will send those assholes crazy. I’m your best friend, and we have seen it happen. Hell, we have gotten caught up in the rage.” Bubba crossed his arms. “Is she worth it? Is your colored girl worth dying for?”

Riley sucked in a deep breath, and then exhaled. “Yeah, she is worth every drop of blood I have to spill.”

“Isaac won’t make this easy. He will mix crews, Klan and Aryan. That could be hundreds of men. You can’t fight all of them.” Setter slammed a big hand down on Riley’s shoulder. “Don’t do this. We can come up with another plan.”

Riley gazed at Bubba. A soft smile lifted the corners of his lips as he removed Setter’s hand. “I understand what you have to do to save face.”

“To hell with that. Run.” Setter shook his head. “My kin’s got a cabin up in the Ozarks. Take the girl and get the hell out of here.”

BOOK: Rising
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