Riven Knight

by Devney Perry

I ended the call without another word and took Genevieve’s hand, pulling her toward the store. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “Get some garbage bags. Clean it up, then home.”

  She nodded, picking up her steps to match my pace. The color had drained from her face.

  The store was deserted save for a lonely cashier reading a book at the checkout line. He rang up our garbage bags and we hustled for the car.

  “Get in,” I ordered.

  “I can hel—”

  “Get. In. Lock the doors.”

  She didn’t argue, going to the driver’s side, shutting herself inside and clicking the locks. She started up the car as I took a picture, then wrapped the pig in two garbage bags.

  I wiped off as much blood as I could, but the car would need a wash. Then I took the bags to a Dumpster beside the store, ignoring the signs to keep out.

  With it disposed, I jogged to the car and got inside. My gray gloves were wet and stained with blood.

  “What are we going to do?” she whispered, gripping the wheel.

  “We hold tight. We stick together.” If the Warriors knew, they would have done much more than kill a pig. They were intimidating us. They were trying to force a confession. We had to stay strong until there was no other choice. “This was just a scare tactic.”

  Her worried eyes met mine. “Mission accomplished.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Genevieve

  It was funny how time moved at different speeds. Weeks and months went by in a flash. Years drew to a close and new ones dawned with the flipping of a calendar’s page. But seconds could stretch on for an eternity.

  Jim had walked into my office with news eons ago. In reality, it had only been a minute since he’d told me Draven’s fate was now in the jury’s hands.

  “It’s over?”

  He nodded from the chair across from my desk. “It’s over. I did the best I could. Now we’ll wait for the jury.”

  My eyes flooded with tears as I stared at the top of my desk. “How long do you think they’ll deliberate?”

  “I have no idea. The longer the better.”

  “What if they come back with guilty?” Which they likely would. “Is there any reason to appeal?”

  “I’ve already called a friend of mine who handles criminal appeals. She’s going to take a look. But unless I screwed something up, which I don’t think I did, we’ve got nothing.”

  So after the jury reached their decision, Draven would go to prison, presumably for the rest of his life. He’d be punished for my mother’s murder while she rested in the cemetery with no justice.

  I swiped the tears away. Every time I swallowed the lump in my throat, it crawled right back up. “What do we do?”

  Jim gave me a sad smile. “I’m afraid there’s nothing to do. You still have a little time. Make the most of it.”

  Maybe a day. Maybe a week. But time was running out for Sunday breakfasts with Draven at the diner. Time was running out for me to know the man who’d slowly become so important to me.

  “Would you mind if I left a little early today?”

  “Of course not.” Jim stood. “Enjoy the weekend.”

  “Thanks. And, Jim?” I stopped him before he could leave my office. “Thank you for trying.”

  He nodded, his shoulders falling. “I wish I could have done more.”

  “You did all you could do.”

  Jim had worked tirelessly on Draven’s case, but the evidence was stacked against Draven and evidence was impossible to ignore.

  There hadn’t been much for Jim to present. He’d brought Emmett in to verify that he’d taped the recording of the man breaking into the clubhouse. He’d speculated the knife was stolen and had brought in a fingerprint expert to discuss how fingerprints could be falsified.

  Draven kept telling me how Jim was doing an incredible job and that praise had given me a false sense of hope.

  We’d all begun to hope.

  Bryce had invited Isaiah and me to her house for Christmas. Draven had been there. The judge had come down with the flu and the trial had been delayed for a few days, plus they’d taken off for the holiday.

  Nick and Emmeline had driven from Prescott with the kids, who’d stolen the show. They’d opened the mountain of gifts laid out for them, ones from Draven, Dash and Bryce. Isaiah and I had gotten them presents too—a remote-control car for young Draven and packs of stud earrings for Nora.

  We’d eaten a feast of both turkey and prime rib. And for maybe the first time, I’d felt part of this family. Dash hadn’t had much to say to me, per his normal behavior. But Bryce’s affection and love had made up for his cold shoulder. Nick and Emmeline’s had too. Why couldn’t Nick be the brother who lived in Clifton Forge?

  Tell me all about your life, little sister.

  He’d sat on the couch beside me and we hadn’t moved from that spot for an hour. He’d peppered me with questions, much like Draven did during our breakfasts at the diner.

  Christmas, like Thanksgiving, had been hard without Mom. I’d woken up and cried in the shower that morning. But Isaiah had been there. I’d leaned on him, his steady presence never far away.

  None of us had talked about the Warriors. None of us had mentioned the kidnapping or Mom’s murder. We hadn’t spoken about Draven’s trial.

  Because we’d hoped it would end in our favor.

  False hope.

  To the world, Draven was guilty. It was just a matter of time until a jury made it official.

  Tears threatened again as I collected my things and pulled on my coat and scarf. I rifled around the bottom of my purse for my keys and phone. I brought up Isaiah’s name, ready to call him to escort me home, but hesitated. It was close to closing time and he’d been so busy at the garage. I hated bothering him when I was sure he was trying to wrap up the day.

  They’d been working on a new car at the shop, one Nick had brought over at Christmas.

  Nick and Emmeline had a garage in Prescott called Slater’s Station. Unlike Dash’s garage here, Slater’s Station wasn’t the only shop in Prescott. The oil changes and tune-ups were mostly handled at the other garage, which meant Nick’s shop specialized in custom work. Jobs that took months, not hours.

  He specialized in restoring cars and motorcycles, much like Dash did, but based on the banter that had been tossed around the Christmas dinner table, I’d gleaned that Nick was good at his job. Really good. So while the Clifton Forge Garage needed mechanics like Isaiah to do the more routine maintenance work, Nick specialized in restorations.

  Dash had built up that side of his business too, but with the regular jobs that came in daily, they couldn’t solely focus on the fun stuff, as Isaiah called it.

  Except Nick was overbooked. Dash already had one restoration going, so adding in a second meant Isaiah was able to help.

  He came home to the apartment each night with a grin. A grin that seemed to be widening, millimeter by millimeter, each day. Isaiah had even started laughing. Well, not exactly laughing. There were no teeth showing. He didn’t throw his head back and let loose. But there was a deep, strong rumble in his chest. A grinning chuckle.

  He was probably watching and observing Dash, Emmett and Leo right now, soaking up everything they were teaching him.

  I didn’t want to pull him away from that, even for twenty minutes.

  Jim could walk me to the parking lot.

  I put on my gloves and shut off the light to my office. With my purse slung over a shoulder, I walked down the hallway. “Hey, Jim? Would you mind walking me to my car?”

  Probably a strange request from an employee to her boss, but Jim knew why we were all being cautious. I wasn’t sure how much Draven had told him, but it was enough that he immediately abandoned his chair and put on his coat.

  I hadn’t told him about the baby pig. Mostly, I was doing my best to block that image from my mind because there wasn’t anything to do.

  We’d been threatened. Message re
ceived. We were all on constant guard.

  “Bye, Gayle.” I waved to her as I passed the reception desk.

  “Bye,” she said before answering the phone. She gave her normal greeting, then looked to Jim as he caught up to me at the door. “Oh, hi, Colleen. Let me see if he’s free.”

  Jim held up a hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Sorry,” I said as we hustled out the door.

  “No problem at all. Colleen will chat with Gayle.” He walked me to the corner of the building. “See you Monday.”

  “Have a good weekend.” I waved and hurried to my car, glancing over my shoulder to see Jim waiting by the building until I’d opened the door and shut myself inside. Jim turned to go inside.

  I’d put in the key and was about to turn it when a dark figure appeared by my window.

  “Ah!” My scream was cut short when the door was ripped open.

  I hadn’t locked it.

  My hands fumbled, pulling hard on the handle, but he was too strong. One moment, I was in my car, the next I was being hauled out by my hair. “Nooo—”

  He slapped his gloved hand over my mouth.

  I twisted and fought, trying to squirm away, but he had a grip on me that was so terrifyingly familiar I wasn’t able to breathe.

  Not again. Oh, God, please, not again.

  I threw my elbows, flailing to connect with his ribs. I let my legs go limp, forcing him to adjust his hold on my hair, hoping I’d slip in his hold. White spots broke across my vision as he hauled me up by my roots.

  Tears dripped down my cheeks as it felt like my scalp was detaching from my skull. I couldn’t drag in enough air with his hand over my mouth, and my head went fuzzy.

  But I fought.

  With weak limbs and a racing heart, I fought, hoping and praying someone would see me this time. I wasn’t in a quiet hotel after midnight. I was in broad daylight, standing in a parking lot.

  I thrashed my head as well as I could with his hand restraining my hair, desperately trying to get his hand off my mouth.

  One good scream. That was all I needed. One good scream and maybe I’d scare him away.

  I opened my mouth, ready to bite down on his palm, when the sound of a voice broke through the thunder of my pounding heart.

  “Genevieve!”

  The grip on my hair was gone. My knees crumpled to the snow and I fell forward, catching myself with the heels of my hands right before my face collided with the metal frame of my car.

  I sucked in a deep breath, my lungs burning as the oxygen seeped in. My legs were Jell-O. My arms shook. I didn’t have the strength to stand up and get out of the snow, but I didn’t have to.

  Isaiah’s strong arm gripped me by the elbow as he hauled me into his arms. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, a stream of tears flowing down my face and into his coat. “No.”

  “I’ve got you.” He kissed my hair and held me tighter. “I’ve got you.”

  My eyes squeezed shut as I held tight, letting my nerves settle. It took a while to get the shaking in my limbs under control, but once I was solid, I took a deep breath and loosened my grasp on Isaiah.

  Except he didn’t let me go.

  “I’m okay.”

  He held me closer.

  “Isaiah, I’m okay.”

  He took one last breath of my hair, then let me go. Not entirely. Just enough to lean back and look me up and down. “Are you hurt?”

  “My hair.” I put my fingers to my scalp, sure I’d find blood when I pulled them away, but they came back dry. “My head hurts but that’s all.” And I’d nearly had a heart attack.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know. I was ready to come home, and Jim escorted me out. I got in my car. The parking lot was empty. And then he was just . . . there, yanking my door open.”

  “Fuck. He must have hidden.”

  “Did you see him?”

  Isaiah nodded. “Only the side of his face. But I saw his patch.”

  My stomach dropped. “The Warriors?”

  “Fuck.” Isaiah pulled me into his chest, muttering the curse again.

  “Genevieve.” Jim was coming around the corner of the building. “Are you all right? I heard Isaiah yell.”

  “Someone came after her,” Isaiah answered for me.

  “What?” Jim rushed over. “Are you hurt? Should I call for an ambulance?”

  “I’m okay,” I choked out as his hand rested on my shoulder.

  “I should have waited.” He hung his head. “I’m so sorry. You got in the car and I—”

  “It’s okay, Jim. It’s not your fault.” I looked up at Isaiah. “He came out of nowhere. He must have been watching and waiting for me to leave. He had to know you normally come and meet me.”

  Isaiah’s jaw ticked. “Let’s get out of the cold. We’ll talk at home.”

  “Okay.” I nodded and turned. Jim’s hug was waiting.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I relaxed against his shoulder. “I’m okay. Promise.”

  He squeezed me for a second longer, then spoke to Isaiah. “Take care of her.”

  “I’ll die trying.” Isaiah’s voice, those words, soothed the rest of my ragged nerves.

  As Jim let me go, I sat in my driver’s seat, hesitating to swing my legs inside.

  “Just grab your purse, V. We’ll come get the car tomorrow.”

  “But . . .” The last time he’d driven me home, he’d gone cold for weeks.

  He waved me out. “Come on.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, not wanting to be inside my car at the moment. I yanked my purse from the passenger seat and retrieved the keys from the ignition.

  Isaiah took my arm the moment the door was closed and locked, keeping a firm hold on me as we walked to his truck. The driver’s door was open, the engine running.

  “How’d you know to come here?”

  “Draven called the garage.” His eyes filled with concern. “Said the jury is out for deliberation.”

  “I know. Jim told me.”

  “I wasn’t sure if he’d tell you or not, so I came in case you needed me.”

  I let my head fall against his shoulder. “I always need you.”

  And always would.

  Where would I be if he hadn’t thought to come here? In another trunk? I shivered, fear creeping in. The Warriors probably didn’t believe in trunks. They seemed more like the live-burial type.

  “Was this another scare tactic?” I asked as Isaiah opened the passenger door for me. “Or would he have taken me?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know, doll. Could have been.”

  Since the pig incident, I’d been constantly looking over my shoulder. We both had.

  “Why me?” I whispered as Isaiah buckled my seat belt. “I’m not affiliated with the club. Before this summer, I’d never set foot in Clifton Forge. Why would they want me? I’m a no one to them. Unless . . .”

  “They can’t know about the cabin. There’s no way.” Isaiah leaned into the cab and dropped his forehead to mine. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “How?”

  “Together.”

  I closed my eyes, relaxing into the warmth of his touch. I dragged in a breath of the cab and his comforting scent.

  Isaiah leaned away and cupped my cheeks, staring into my eyes like I was something precious. He dropped a soft kiss to my lips, then closed me inside the cab, rounding the hood for his side.

  He put his hands on the wheel and froze.

  “I can drive,” I offered.

  “No.” He tightened his grip. “I can do it.”

  We didn’t move. Beside me, he was waging an internal battle to put the truck in reverse.

  “You won’t hurt me,” I whispered.

  He looked over and the raw emotion on his face, the vulnerability in his eyes, broke my heart. “I might.”

  “You won’t.”

  After a few long moments, he put the truck in reverse. Then we made our way to the garag
e, Isaiah barely breathing as he drove.

  But we made it. Safe. Unharmed.

  Together.

  We’d won today’s battle, but the war was far from over.

  Chapter Twenty

  Isaiah

  I peeled my hands off the steering wheel and shut off my truck. Then I breathed.

  We made it. I ran a hand over my face, shaking away the anxiety.

  Driving Genevieve home today was easier than it had been the day she’d been sick, but only by a fraction. Even though I hadn’t had that fucking nightmare since I’d started sleeping in bed with her, it was still screwing with my head.

  Maybe I should have risked a glance at her—just to see that she was alive and breathing. Would it ever get easier? Probably not. I didn’t deserve for this to be easy.

  Genevieve opened her door first and gave me a sad smile. “Let’s go up.”

  I nodded and climbed out on shaking legs. Adrenaline streamed through my veins, both from the drive and seeing that motherfucker’s hands on her. I shoved that image away before I went into a rage.

  Someone had come after Genevieve. My wife.

  We clung to one another as we climbed the stairs home. I helped her out of her coat and shook off mine. She left her shoes on and the spiked heels dug into the carpet as she crossed the room and sank onto the couch.

  Fuck, I could have lost her today. That guy could have taken her. He could have strangled her beside her car and left her lifeless body in the snow. Maybe he’d wanted to do to her what he’d done to that baby pig.

  What would I do without her? Losing her would destroy me. She was the best thing to come into my life in years, and if protecting her from this meant I spent the rest of my days in prison, I’d go tomorrow.

  “V,” I whispered.

  Her eyes were glassy when she met my gaze. We were both thinking the same thing. “We can’t keep this a secret anymore.”

  “No.” I joined her on the couch and my hand found hers. “We need help, doll. The secrets aren’t worth it if I can’t keep you safe.”

  “Everyone will know what happened.”

  “They won’t tell.” It had taken me months to fully understand the loyalty these people had to one another. As we’d watched Draven’s trial progress, as we’d shared our lunches and our lives, as we’d turned old wrecks into works of art, I’d gotten a glimpse of the brotherhood Dash and Emmett and Leo had had in the club.