Rising (4 page)

“Let’s take a walk to the alley,” Riley whispered in Justin’s ear. He pulled the weapon free and wiped the bloody blade on Justin’s jeans. “You and I need to have a long talk.”

The teen hung back, dragging his feet.

“Boy, you wanted the bull, you got the horns,” Riley whispered in his ear. “You spouting a lot of trash. Words that sound familiar, which tells me you did more than attend a Klan rally.”

Setter gripped the belt loops of Justin’s jeans. “You heard Riley. Walk.”

“I need to go to the hospital,” Justin whined.

“Suck it up. I think I missed your intestines; maybe I might have nicked them.” Riley patted him on the belly. “A man can usually last three days with a stomach wound.”

The kid moaned.

“Stupid ass. I do thank you for not pissing Riley off too much. I didn’t feel like disposing of a body tonight.” Setter shoved the boy past the mouth of the alley.

Justin slumped to his knees, clutching his belly. “You don’t have to take me, I’ll get there on my own.” He groaned.

“Balls up, boy.” Riley shook his head. The teen was all bluster and bullshit until somebody called his bluff. “You high?”

“N-no sir,” Justin stuttered.

“How close are you to Isaac?” Riley crouched down to gauge his reaction to his questions.

“I don’t understand, h-h-he gave me a flyer at the mall. Mr. Isaac understands the plight of the white man and our need for a pure white race. We are losing resources to races beneath us because of bleeding hearts like your cousin.”

“Yeah, the world’s problems were all created because of Bobby Jack.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to kill you this time. Your membership is revoked. Now show your appreciation and say thank-you.”

The boy cowered, folding in on himself.

Setter reared back his leg and sent a vicious kick into Justin’s ribs. “You heard the man, and add you’re sorry for the inconvenience of forcing us to have this little chat with you.”

The blow sent the young man’s body sprawling on his side. Fresh blood bloomed across the teen’s shirt in a bigger circle. Blotches of crimson discolored his jeans where it flowed from his wound. He rose to his elbows, tears streaming down his cheeks. His face was a splotchy red as he lifted his chin. “I didn’t mean to cause no trouble...” He murmured the words. “May I go now?”

Riley stared down at the boy. It wasn’t an apology, but it was probably the best he was going to get. Unwritten rules dictated the kid should die, since he technically lost the challenge. He shoved the knife in his pocket. Some rules were meant to be broken.

“Git on now. Take care of your little cut. If anyone comes to my door about your being hurt—,” he exhaled, “—they will never find your body. Do you understand me?”

Justin nodded.

“All right, then. Stay out of my way, boy. Don’t make me regret my decision to let you live.” Riley spun on his heel and stalked down the backstreet.

“I get you’re trying to convey a softer, kinder Aryan, but letting that teen go is a mistake. His crazy is fueled by meth, and I bet you five gallons of shine your decision is gonna come back and hurt like a solid kick in the ass.” Setter kept pace with Riley.

He stopped and rounded on his friend. “Is there such a thing as a nice Aryan?”

“Only to others in the brotherhood.” His friend shrugged.

“Not even then.” Riley combed his fingers through his hair. “We thought Isaac would try to infiltrate NWW. That kid was it. Justin is going to report back to Isaac, and now that his informant has been removed, it’s going to force the old man’s hand. I want to know what he’s up to. Isaac’s silence is never a good thing. As for Justin, he’s about as dumb as a box of rocks and I like to give special folks a chance.
And
stop calling me soft.”

“If the shoe fits…” Setter chuckled. “We got a meeting to run. You coming or are you going to continue to contemplate the state of our
union
?”

“Shut the fuck up before I slice into your ass.” Riley glanced over his shoulder. Justin was gone. He’d made the first shot in his escalating war between the NWW and the Klan; now it was a waiting game to see who would lead the factions.

“You can’t protect your cousin forever.”

He turned to peer at Setter. The man wore a grim expression, his mouth formed a firm line, and his eyebrows came together to form a V. His buddy had a point. The brotherhood wasn’t what it used to be, either. Little things were starting to weigh on him; details he couldn’t talk about with his peers and there was no one he trusted enough outside of his group to be objective. Not even his kin.

“Have you ever made a promise you later realized was impossible?”

Setter swiped his finger around his mouth. “No.”

“Then you’ll never understand why I’m protecting Bobby Jack.” He turned away from Setter and strode toward the hall. Was he outgrowing the brotherhood or had the group outgrown him?

Chapter Four

Savannah rushed through the metal detector and held up her arms. Anxious to get going, she tapped her foot as the slow security guard took his sweet time. The balding officer squeezed into an ill-fitting uniform stared at her through dead eyes. His direction to turn around was nothing more than a grunt; one way and then another. She spun in place, glancing over her shoulder as he groaned, bending over to run the wand over her legs.

“Is this necessary? I really need to get to the clerk’s office.” She hurried through the words.

“Just being thorough, ma’am,” he muttered as he rose and waved her on. “Just can’t please you people.”

She hesitated before grabbing her briefcase off the end of the belt and jogging. Her heels created a rhythmic tattoo on the marble tiles. She checked her watch; in fifteen minutes, the office would close and Monday would be too late to file the counter complaint.

This being her first time in the courthouse, she stopped at the information desk and studied the map above it. A visual check through the departments, and she located the one she was looking for. Savannah trotted toward the elevator.

“Hey beautiful, what are you doing here?” Trenton’s voice drifted from behind her.

She half turned. “Surprise. I need to file some documents with the clerk.” As usual, her friend looked as if he stepped off of a photoshoot. “I would have thought you’d be in your office wrapping up your day.”

“I helped a friend with a juvenile case. Their courtroom is in a separate building.” His intense, unwavering stare made her uncomfortable.

The elevator dinged and the door slid open. She stepped in, pressed her floor, and moved back to make room for Trenton, who’d followed her.

“Aren’t you going to your office?” While she studied the building’s courthouse layout, she’d taken note where the DA office was.

He offered her one of his big smiles. “I thought I would accompany you.”

The doors were sliding shut when a hand thrust through the sliver of space and the silver doors quietly reversed. A man in torn jeans and a dark shirt entered the space.

He touched the bill of his cap. “Ma’am.”

She nodded in return.

The stranger turned to face the doors. She studied his reflection in the polished steel. There was something familiar about him. A Confederate flag was sprawled across his back of his shirt with the words
support your heritage.
Tats wrapped around his arm peeked from below the hem of one sleeve. Trent eased between her and the elevator’s other occupant, blocking her view. The guy turned his head and tilted it to the side.

She narrowed her eyes, sure they’d met before. “Excuse me.” She reached past Trenton and tapped the guy on the shoulder. “Have we met?”

The man twisted around and raised his head. The bill of his cap shadowed his eyes. “I think I would remember you, Sweetness.” His smooth southern drawl washed over her.

“Watch it.” Trenton rolled his shoulders. “I’ve dealt with good ol’ boys like you before, so turn around and don’t annoy us.”

“Trenton.” Savannah pushed past him. “Sorry, I mistook you for someone else. I guess I was wrong.” The elevator chimed and the doors silently split. “Have a good day.” She marched out.

“How’s your convertible?” The stranger spoke quietly as she passed him.

She turned on her heel. “After a good detailing, the green gremlin is back to her old self. I thought it was you. Riley, right?”

“Aren’t you in a hurry?” Trenton pushed past Riley, brushing his arm.

“I am.” She twisted around.
What the hell was wrong with Trenton?
She intended to apologize for his behavior, and glanced at the pinched expression on his face. “Thank you again for your help.”

She trotted down the hall, checking her watch. Eight minutes. Her friend’s reaction to the stranger would have be a conversation for another time.

So close to quitting time, she and Trenton’s steps echoed through the deserted hallways. She slammed through the glass door. One window was open with an attendant furiously working her pencil across a paper.

She strode up to the window. “I need to file this.” Savannah reached into her bag and yanked out a sheath of papers to press through the slot.

Riley, her rescuer, ambled up behind her.

A clerk stepped up next to the one helping her. “Sir.” The attendant’s expression brightened as she smoothed her hair back from her face and pressed her fingers through the slot. “I’m open.”

He sauntered to the next window and handed her a yellow sheet. Savannah focused on his fingers. Letters etched the digits of both hands. She glanced back at the official, who was stamping the multitude of papers she handed her. Curious, she returned her gaze to his hands.

“Something caught your interest?” He didn’t look her way.

She didn’t immediately realize he was speaking to her and glanced through the window to see his clerk had stepped away. Savannah quickly turned away, embarrassed to be caught staring.

He chuckled. The sound was deep and sensuous.

“Copies are a nickel a page.” The woman behind the Plexiglas held up the document sheets.

“That’s fine.” Savannah nodded. “Thank you.”

“Are you going to ignore my question?” His voice was close. She peered to the side and caught her breath. He was next to her, leaning on the counter.

She gazed over her shoulder at Trenton standing near the door before going up on her toes to see how far the clerk went. “Sorry.” As interesting as he was, she’d been rude to gawk at him.

He held his hands out in front of him, flipping them from one side to another. She watched, intrigued. His palms were scarred, and rough patches of white skin covered the joints. His nails were mostly clean, with thin dark lines at the quick. He made fists and put his fists together, index fingers touching.
No Love
was tatted on his fingers.

“Why?” She traced the letters with her fingertip.

“Not all of us have cushy white-collar jobs. It takes days for me to clean the muck from beneath my nails when I leave the rig, and if it ever comes down to me having to fight—” he sniggered, “—then I got no love for the asshole that deserves the beatdown.”

“Didn’t I tell you to leave her alone?” Trenton gripped her arm and snatched her back. She shuffled to keep from stumbling.

“What is wrong with you?” She slapped his arm.

“Why can’t you niggers learn your place?” Riley straightened. He glanced around before moving forward into Trenton’s personal space. “You put on a good show, boy.” He raised his chin and cocked his head. “I wonder if you would be so brave if it was just you and me in an alley, because I can make that happen. Manhandle her again, and see how quick you find your ass locked in a trunk somewhere you will never be found.”

The words he used made her bristle. She pressed her lips together. Riley was a racist; she thought he might be. The people in the bar she met him in, they definitely had a problem with blacks, but Riley had only been nice to her, and he actually got her out of there. Even now, he was telling Trenton to back off. She chewed on the inside of her cheek.
Wasn’t he?
For someone who had an issue with her race, he didn’t seem to have a problem with her.

The clerk returned.

Riley tipped his hat at the woman at the counter. “Ma’am.” He returned his stare to Trenton. “I’m watching you, ol’ son. Don’t fuck up.” He took a few steps. “Remember what I told you, Sweetness. There are some people out there that don’t like your kind.” He strolled away.

She watched as he sauntered away, calm and confident, as if the unpleasantness hadn’t occurred. Trenton’s face, however, was a mask of fury. His nostrils flared and his mouth compressed into an angry slash across his face.

Savannah snatched her bicep from his grasp. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Stay away him and his friends, Savannah. There are some people who have a real problem with blacks. That guy’s shirt, his tattoos, tells me he’s one of them.” Trenton turned his hard gaze on her. “Women like you should listen.”

She reached past him and collected the sheaf of paper. Mumbling a hasty “thank-you,” she pivoted on her heel and strode away. This wasn’t the Trenton she knew. Where was the nice, nerdy guy that only wanted to hang out with her at the law library?

Trenton called out her name as he followed her. She kept walking, slipping into the elevator as the doors shut. The lift was crowded with employees getting off work. Some were juggling armloads of files and thick briefcases. Jammed in with so many people in a confined space at her back made her nervous; someone coughed, and she flinched.

Images of Ronald stomping up behind her and snatching her by the hair filled her mind. The few times she chose to stand up to her stepfather resulted in quick and brutal reprisals. The elevator couldn’t reach its destination fast enough. She breathed in through her nose and exhaled though her mouth like her therapist taught her. A hissing sound escaped her. Slowly the anxiety abated as the cab opened up to the lobby.

It had been a long time since she had an anxiety attack. Something triggered the memories she tried to keep buried.

Trenton was waiting for her. A layer of sweat peppered his forehead. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and jerked her toward him. Glaring at her through eyes narrowed into slits, he turned and dragged her toward the exit. She trotted to keep up with his pace. More memories flooded her mind of her being hauled to the bathroom and thrown in the shower where the water was scalding hot because she played with her mother’s makeup.

Trenton rammed through a side exit.

Outside, she stopped and wrenched her arm from his grasp. She shook her head to escape the terror claiming her mind. She hadn’t had an episode in years. Emotions drained, the tension between her shoulders unraveled.

“Don’t you ever touch me like that again.” She kept her tone low.

He reared back and suddenly smiled. “Sorry, honey. I was so angry I couldn’t see straight.” He moved in close.

She stepped to the side. “I am not your honey, lover, or girlfriend. I thought we were good friends at one time, but I’m not sure I know you now.”

“Did you hear what he said? He called us niggers! Do you find that acceptable?” Trenton fired off questions at her. Veins bulged at his temple and along his neck.

“I’m not excusing what was said, nor am I excusing your behavior. We were talking and you behaved like that was an act of betrayal. As if I was your woman.” She stabbed a finger into the lapel of his suit jacket. “We have never had that kind of relationship. Riley is a redneck, and yes, he was wrong, but you could have left the shit alone instead of engaging him. Like it or not, folks are entitled to their opinions. If I don’t like it, I don’t screw with them. There are all types of people in this world.”

He squeezed her digit, holding it to his chest. “Have you become one of those people, Savannah?” His expression turned cold and his clipped tone frosty. “Yes, massa, anything you want, sir. I’ll gladly spread my legs for you. Does the idea of fucking a white man make you hot?”

This was a problem. Did her friend have a mental issue she wasn’t aware of?

“You have lost your fucking mind, and I need to get back to the office.” She tightened her grip on the handle of her briefcase. “Let me go.”

“You’ll let a brother go, a good man that has his shit together and can support you and any children you have, for a white man.” His voice was cool, almost sinister. “I expected better of you, Savannah.”

They weren’t in any relationship, but her friend was behaving as if they were intimately involved. How did Trenton come to this, from her having a brief conversation with Riley? Tingles of dread slithered along her spine. She would not show fear.

Savannah tugged at her hand. “Trenton Bishop. Stop.”

“The only reason you’re in Mobile is because I made it possible.” He dipped his head. “You were snobbish in college, and you haven’t changed.” He thrust her hand away.

She stumbled and her back hit a column. “Ow.”

Someone stopped behind Trenton. She saw the dirty work boots and followed the lines of his body up.
Riley
.

“You’re a dumb ass. Ah well, I gave you one more chance than the average coon. You should have listened.” He punched the man she thought was her friend in the back of the head.

Trenton’s eyes widened as he dropped to his knees.

Riley flexed his hand as he walked around her former buddy’s body. “Y’all got damn hard heads.” He thrust a knee up, connecting with Trenton’s jaw.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Trenton’s head snapped back and his jacket fluttered as he fell to the side.

“Real soft jaws, though.” Riley crouched. “I ain’t telling you again. This woman is off limits.” He rose and slammed his foot into Trenton’s ribs.

Riley turned her way. “You okay?’

Savannah pushed off the pillar. “I could have handled him. We’re old friends. He was having a bad day.”

“It’s called a thank-you.”

Trenton moaned. Blood dribbled from his split lip.

“I should get him some help.” She wasn’t going to allow someone she once considered a friend to suffer. After those vicious blows, he could have internal injuries. Savannah dragged her eyes away from Riley and focused on Trenton.