Rising (8 page)

“Oh, that I can do.” She stepped up behind the kid and curled her hands around his, helping him dip the mesh into the water. She straightened and twisted her body, following his nephew’s movements. A sweet flowery aroma drifted to Riley’s nose. His cock jerked.

“I did it!” A big smile lit up the child’s face.

“Great job, buddy! High five!” Riley held out his hand, and Isaac jumped up to touch palms.

Savannah held the fish away from her body with both hands tightly wrapped around the net handle. It thrashed against its confines, splattering water across her skirt. Riley moved forward and pulled the trout free, deftly easing the hook from its mouth. He dropped it in the bucket with the other fish. “Looks like we got enough for a feast, big guy.” Riley reached out to take the net from her.

Three long scratches marred her skin from knuckle to wrist. “What happened to your hand?” He intertwined his fingers with hers and yanked her forward to get a closer look.

Isaac squeezed between them and went up on his toes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Riley stared at the small face peering up at him. “Take the bucket up to your daddy.”

“Yes, sir.” Isaac saluted him as he’d seen a few of the guys that had dropped by do earlier.

“Don’t let your mama see you do that.” He chuckled, holding tight to Savannah’s soft, moist palm.

Water sloshed as the little guy half-dragged the bucket over the planks.

He refocused his attention on Savannah. “You were saying?”

“It’s nothing. I ran into some rose bushes.” She pulled her hand away. “A better question would be what happened to your face?”

“I had to clear up a misunderstanding.” He spoke quietly, brushing his thumb over the marks on her skin.

Riley knew what he looked like. He had a black eye that had faded to a deep purple, and his bottom lip was split. His right arm was scratched and bruised where the chain had wrapped around it, and Setter had to tape his ribs because he was sure at least one was broken. At least it no longer hurt to breathe.

“Did you?” She lifted her sunglasses. A thin arched brow rose up her forehead.

“Let’s just say they look a lot worse than I do.” He shrugged.

“Are you always so combative?” She blinked, and he realized how long her lashes were.

“I don’t have many fucks to give, so when they run out—sometimes things can get ugly.” He could be honest, kind of. “That night I had less patience than usual, so shit rolled down hill quickly.”

She licked her lips and before smiling. His gaze was drawn to her luscious, full mouth.

She had dimples.
Damn, could she get any cuter?

Ever since he’d helped her out at the bar, all he could think about were her bare, brown legs wrapped around his hips. Her body was meant for love and he was going to hell for what he wanted to do to her. He was no gentleman by anyone’s standards; he did what he wanted, to hell with everybody else…mostly.

“You shouldn’t be here.” His tone was gruff, he couldn’t help it.

“Is there any place I am allowed?” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Sweet baby Jesus…” he groaned. “Do not do that.”

“Seriously, what is your problem?” She tugged hard. “And let my hand go.”

His erection pressed against his zipper, and the thin layer of his boxers did nothing to cushion his dick. One taste, and he would back off. He lifted his head and glanced around. “Listen.”

She raised her chin and opened her mouth “To w—”

Riley grasped her head, cupping both cheeks within his palms. His fingers tangled in her ponytail. He dipped his head and crushed her lips beneath his. She slipped her hands between them, pushing against his chest. He gripped her hair and tugged.

Savannah slid her hands down his body, resting them against his belly, and his cock throbbed. He slid his tongue along her teeth, she brushed hers across his, curling around it. Sweet fruit—strawberries—washed over his taste buds. He skimmed his fingers down her spine and splayed his palm across the small of her back, urging her against him. He snatched at her blouse trying to free it from her waistband. Desire to feel her skin on his made him desperate.

She tilted her head and slid her tongue past his lips, lapping at the deeper recesses of his mouth. Savannah eased her hands around his waist and up his back. His T-shirt tightened across his chest as she clutched fistfuls of fabric. She pounded on his back. He ignored the pain spiking through his sides.

He shoved his hand under her blouse, and then slid his palms beneath the waistband of her skirt. Smooth, soft material covered half her ass. Short grunts escaped him. She pressed her body flush to his. He rammed his other hand down her clothing and leaned back, pulling her up before slowly sliding her down along his rod. Ripping fabric rent the air. Coolness washed over his fingers.

Savannah broke the kiss and reared back. He set her on her feet and she laid her forehead on his on his collarbone, breathing hard.

“Why?” she whispered.

“I ripped your skirt…I think.” He rubbed her back.

Riley didn’t just want to kiss her, his need were more visceral. Bottom line, he wanted to fuck her, take her any way she would allow him to have her. He wanted to make her scream until she was hoarse, until she could only whisper his name.

Oh shit, this was not good…

“No.” She raised her head. Vulnerability was evident in her clear chocolate eyes. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I have wanted to know what you tasted like since you climbed into my truck with nothing on but a damn trench coat.” Gently, he eased his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to stare into her eyes. “I was wrong.”

She swallowed. “Okay. Well, umm…” Savannah folded her lips together and her brows came together.

“You don’t get it.” He snorted and dropped his head back to gaze at the sky. “God, why now?”

She clutched his wrists and shoved them from her waist.

He clasped her fingers and locked her arms behind her. “Now, Sweetness, don’t throw a tantrum.”

“Fit!” She narrowed her eyes. “I am tired of obnoxious, overbearing…”

He bent his head and nipped at her top lip. “Shh. Honestly, woman, do you know how to be quiet? I like you feisty, but right now—
listen
.”

She stared up at him.

“Riley, I spilled the fis—! Oooh, I’m telling Mommy. She said attacking black people was bad!” Isaac took off running.

“We won’t be alone long.” He sighed. “I should have sent their asses home last night,” he mumbled, and then chuckled. “I was saying I was wrong—not because I kissed you, but because I know one taste will not be enough.”

Chapter Seven

Dark wood paneled walls made the courtroom feel smaller than it actually was. Gallery seats were six rows deep. Savannah strode past them quickly; she wanted have everything ready for Brad.

With no one else in the room, the space was quiet. It wouldn’t be for long. Once the individual parties arrived with their respective lawyers and the judge entered from chambers with the court recorder and bailiff, things would get busy quickly.

Her cell chimed and she pulled it from her pocket, checking the ID. She’d successfully avoided Trenton for days and refused to answer any calls she thought might be from family. So far she’d been lucky; and isolated in her little bubble, life was good.

Ever since the kiss, Riley called her every day. Taking her to diners in the middle of the night for breakfast, where they would sit and talk. No one had ever done that with her before and the experience was invigorating. She wasn’t out of place. They might receive a few strange looks, but she ignored them, and he stared at the people who dared to gaze at them until those folks looked away. Riley was a force unto himself and his attention made her want to dance. She could be open with him. For someone who had a problem with other races, he never judged her.

Savannah slid her finger across the screen. “Hey, I can’t talk long.”

“I’ve been thinking.” Riley’s slow drawl sent shivers down her spine.

“Is that a good thing?” she said as she giggled.

“It’s debatable.” He paused. “I know you don’t feel safe at your place, but is the hotel room any better? I have plenty of room here. Pack your things and stay with me until you get things sorted. Your friend is foolish, but I doubt he’s stupid enough to come to my house.”

“I can’t do that, Riley.” She sighed. They were friends, but it was hard enough walking away from him at the end of the night. If she didn’t have to leave, who knew what might happen.

“Think about it, Sweetness. I have business to take care of tonight. Call me when you get to your room.” He disconnected.

“Was that Riley?” Whit strolled in with Little Isaac, a big smile on her face.

“You’re nosy.” Savannah ducked her head and smiled.

“What? Bobby Jack thought you looked familiar when we came to your office. It didn’t click with him who you were until that night. You’re the pretty girl with the friendly smile. Riley made sure you got to your car, and for him, that’s saying something. I invited you to lunch to help y’all along.” Whit waggled her brows. “Riley Joe and Bobby Jack are so much alike, they are more like brothers than cousins.”

“Where is your husband?” Savannah wasn’t ready to share Riley. She wanted to keep him to herself for the time being.

“Bobby Jack is parking the truck.” Whit helped Isaac into a chair. “We didn’t intend to bring little man, but Ms. Mays had an emergency and couldn’t keep him for us.”

“I’m sorry. Is everything okay?”

“I feel sorry for the person Ms. Mays is going after.” Whit snorted.

“I’m sure having him around won’t be an issue.” Savanah combed her fingers through the downy soft hair of the toddler.

Bobby Jack strolled in with her boss, Brad. Behind them was a group of men dressed in khaki pants and black shirts with Klan insignias of red crosses embroidered on the breast. They took seats on the other side of the gallery, scowling at her and Whit.

Brad pushed through the swinging panels and took a seat at the table. Bobby Jack kissed Whit on the forehead before he joined her boss. She sat and patted the seat Isaac occupied for Whit to sit, too.

More people arrived. A gaunt woman with limp blonde hair and sunken eyes rushed down the aisle and stopped. She spun around and gazed at them. Her stare fell on little Isaac and she smiled, exposing yellowing teeth. A few were missing. “Hey, baby boy.”

Little Isaac ducked his head into Whit’s side.

The woman’s face expression changed from controlled to sad. She blinked several times and peered at Whit. “I hate you.”

“I loved you, Jessi,” Whit spoke quietly. “Like a sister.” She slid her hand down Isaac’s hair and rested her hand over his ear. “But I’m not going to let you ruin this child and I sure as hell ain’t going to let you steal my joy.”

A big guy with a shaved head hesitated behind Jessi. The spider web tattooed across his scalp furrowed. “Come on, babe.” He urged Jessi along and stopped at the little half wall and stared at Bobby Jack. “Riley ain’t here to save your ass this time.”

“I ain’t never needed no help kicking your ass, Andy.” Bobby Jack stood and Brad clutched his arm. “Tell my daddy to go to he—”

“All rise.” The bailiff announced.

Another man scurried down the aisle to the table where the large man and the blonde woman stood. He smoothed out his suit jacket and patted at his forehead with the handkerchief he yanked from his pocket. After flashing a smile, he leaned toward the couple and rubbed her arm.

“Court is now in session, the Honorable Julius Smyth presiding. You may be seated.”

Jessi’s lawyer had a powerful argument, referring to her as Little Isaac’s mother and asking the court not to separate the child from his mom. Brad countered the argument with her prison record, citing that she had already been away from the child due to her illegal activity.

Their attorney introduced Bobby Jack’s record. Brad didn’t dispute Bobby Jack’s past, but instead showed all the positive things he’d done since leaving the penitentiary. His work record and letters of character from friends were introduced as evidence.

Witnesses were paraded in and out of the courtroom. Their lawyer called into question paternity stating that Jessi’s current husband was actually Little Isaac’s father.

Whit paled. She watched as a slow smile spread across Brad’s face. He held up a DNA report, proving Bobby Jack was in the ninety-nine-point-ninth-billion percentile that Isaac was his son. That forced Jessi’s team to switch gears again.

It was a true battle for custody, with both side making points that would have cut deep had the words been actual swords. Jessi kept looking back at Isaac, sitting still in Whit’s lap. More than once, Jessi’s lawyer tapped her to get her full attention. During final arguments, both lawyers made an impassioned plea.

Judge Smyth leaned back in his chair. He peered at both parties before leaning forward and exhaling. “It is never easy to choose one parent over another. Traditionally, every effort is made to keep a child with their mother. I will not grant a termination of parental rights for the mother. However, based on the affidavits and other factors, I am ordering the child remain with his father with supervised visi—”

“You can’t have him! Isaac is mine, I carried him, nurtured him…loved him!” Jessie screamed. The muscles in her neck stood out in stark relief, and her cheeks were flushed. Beads of sweat dotted her skin as she jumped from her seat and hopped over the short wood barrier. She marched toward Whit. Whit stood, shoving Little Isaac behind her. Savannah scrambled, yanking Whit back to step in front of her. Jessi raised her arm, and slammed a fist into Savannah’s jaw.

The ringing in her ears was thunderous. Fingers of pain clawed their way across her face from her cheek as tears welled up in her eyes. Savannah stumbled back, gripping her face.

In the blink of an eye, Whit shoved Isaac into Savannah’s arms and got in Jessi’s face. “You want a piece of me, dumb ass, come and get some!” she yelled.

Bailiffs rushed them, grabbing the arms of a flailing Jessie.

Whit scuttled up to the back of an officer to grasp a handful of Jessie’s hair. “I’m raising Isaac because you fucked up. For the first time in his young life, he knows love from a mother that puts him first!”

“You can’t have him!” Jessie kicked out her leg. The men who arrived with Jessi surrounded them, watching closely, but staying out of the cat fight. The big guy that accompanied her curled an arm around her waist, and tried to jerk her free of the bailiff’s hold.

In the din of wails, the judge shouted
order
while banging his gavel. Brad gazed at her with his eyes wide and his palms up. Savannah hastily nodded to let him know she was all right. Little Isaac screamed for Whit, reaching for her with his small arms. Police flooded the court room.

Bobby Jack pushed his way through the group, and tapped Savannah on the arm. “Get him out of here. He doesn’t need to see this.” Bobby Jack twisted around and shoved through the bailiffs, moving toward Whit.

Savannah gripped Isaac’s head and pressed his tear-streaked face against her shoulder as she rushed for the double doors. The child reached past her, flexing his fingers and screaming, “
Mama
!”

The thick wooden door muffled the noise of the melee as it shut behind them. She was able to breathe, inhaling the soft scent of laundry detergent and baby powder. Her cheek still burned where Jessie’s palm had connected with her skin.

She stopped and reared back to check on the toddler, he gazed up at her through big green eyes framed with thick lashes. His small lips turned down at the corner. “I want my mommy.”

“I know, sweetheart.” She placed him on his feet. “I bet your mama and your daddy will be coming through those doors any minute.”

Savannah glanced around. The hallway was empty except for one older man in dirty overalls. The soles of his boots squeaked on the polished floor as he stalked down the hall.

He stopped and looked Savannah up and down before settling his gaze on Little Isaac. “Hello, boy.”

She grasped the child’s shoulder and pulled him toward her legs.

A slow hiss escaped him. “What you going to do against me? You a cute thing for a colored.” He inched forward. “At least my boy knows how to pick the pretty monkeys.”

She shuffled back, pulling the kid with her. Every instinct in her screamed
run
. She swallowed. “If you’re looking for the courtroom, it’s right there.” Savannah angled her head toward the double doors.

“No, I think I found what I’m looking for.” He sucked his teeth.

Who the hell was this guy?
She gently tugged Little Isaac behind her. “Who exactly are you?”

Bobby Jack and Brad burst through the doors. “We need to get Whit out of jail tonight.” Bobby Jack stopped; he narrowed his eyes and stomped forward. “Get the hell away from my son!”

“Still the punk, I see.” The older man cocked his head. “Don’t worry, boy, I didn’t come for you. I give less than two shits about a whore and her spawn.” He raised his head and looked beyond Bobby Jack’s shoulder.

Savannah followed his gaze.

The big guy with the tatted head filed out of the courtroom with the other men who were sitting in the gallery. They rushed toward the man. He held up a hand and they stopped.

“Uncle Isaac, Jessi’s been detained for contempt of court.” A look of bleakness crossed the face of the big man.

“Stop whining; she’s been in jail before. Jessi can handle it. Wait for me at the car.” The old man’s gaze didn’t waver as he continued to stare at Bobby Jack.

“We need to bail her out,” the big man insisted.

“What the hell did I say?”

“Go on, get now like a good little skinhead, Andy.” Bobby Jack sniggered. “Oh, and let Clay know that little scratch he got ain’t nothing compared to what’s coming.”

“I got my own message,
son
. Tell Riley Joe if he doesn’t join up with us, I will fucking break him.” The dirty old guy glanced at her and the child. “All y’all look alike; I guess you’re not the bitch he’s forsaken his family for.” He shrugged. “Easy mistake. Let your cousin know I will bury his ass in the swamp if he continues to challenge me.”

He spun on his heels and ambled away, with the Klansmen who had been in court following behind him.

Savannah’s glance darted between the retreating back of the old guy and Bobby Jack.

He’d pulled his cell free of his jeans and tapped the screen before pressing it to his ear. “Riley, you got a serious problem.”

****

Three hours later and no sign of Isaac.

Riley glanced at Bubba before turning down a back road. He was meeting with Setter and Bubba when Bobby Jack called him. His first thoughts touched on Savannah. She was with Bobby Jack and Whit. He tried calling her, but it went to voicemail.

“Ain’t there an old gas station this way?” Riley glanced in his rearview mirror at Setter.

“Yeah, it’s the only one so the prices are ridiculous.” Setter leaned back in his seat.

“The folks they do business with don’t care about that. You know what these roads are used for.” Bubba nodded his head toward the building in the distance. “That old pickup looks familiar.”

Riley narrowed his gaze, and stared at the vehicle that was covered in more rust than paint. “It’s been a while since I had a conversation with the old fucker.” He veered to the left and shoved the gearshift into park. “Make sure we ain’t interrupted.” He shoved the door open and exited the truck.

He slipped around the grill of Isaac’s old rust bucket. The old man had his back to him, clutching the fuel pump as he filled his vehicle up.

His uncle had aged a lot more than he expected. The drug business had not been kind to Isaac; with stooped shoulders, thinning hair, and yellowish skin, it looked like his uncle had sampled more product than he sold.