by K. Langston
My heart still aches remembering the way Terrell looked, so battered and broken. I don’t know how anyone could do that to him, and knowing it was a man I used to date… it has nausea rolling in my stomach. Add that to my fear for Grayson and my anxiety is through the roof.
I’m about to try his cell again when the distant sound of tires crunching on gravel fills my ears. Relief swamps me when I peek through the curtains and see his pickup. Flipping on the outside light, I open the door and run outside, eager to make sure he’s okay. He’s already out of the truck, slowly walking toward me. My feet falter on the porch when I get a look at him, and pure fear grips my chest once I catch sight of the blood staining his clothes.
“Oh my God. Grayson?” I rush over to him as he drops down on the bottom step. He buries his face in his arms as I frantically search to find out where he’s bleeding. “What’s happened to you? Where are you hurt?”
He mumbles something I can’t quite understand. “What? Grayson, please, answer me.” I cry. “You’re scaring me.”
His head lifts, and I suck in a sharp breath at the tortured look in his eyes. “It’s not my blood,” he grinds out.
Oh God.
Pain slices through me as tears begin to stream down his pale face. His head falls to his hands, his fingers gripping the long strands as he completely breaks. I watch his shoulders begin to shake with agony. The devastation pouring from him absolutely guts me.
I tamp down my emotions as best I can and wrap my arms around his neck. “Shh. It’s okay,” I soothe, whispering in his ear. “No matter what happened we’ll get through it.”
I hold him quietly as he works through his pain. The despair radiating from him seeps into every part of my body, shattering my heart into a million pieces.
Once he’s calmer he lifts his gaze to mine, looking completely destroyed. I hold his tear-streaked face between my hands and brush a kiss across his lips. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
I steel myself for whatever he’s about to say, knowing it’s going to be bad if it has him this upset.
“It’s nothing but a lie,” he chokes out. “All of it, Liv. My whole life has been a lie.” My heart clenches at the raw sadness in his voice. “He was one of them.”
I frown in confusion. “Who?”
“My father.”
“One of who?” I ask, still not understanding.
Something hard flickers in his eyes as he stares back at me. “The KKK.”
I tense, thinking I must have heard him wrong. “What are you talking about?”
Through clenched teeth he tells me everything, what happened with Prichard, going to the compound, and finding the photo. Then the visit with his mother, and her suspicion that they are responsible for his father’s death.
My head reels to sort through it all, but mostly my heart rips open at how wrecked he is. “They killed him,” he whispers, “my father’s best fucking friend killed him, and I’ve been working for him all along.” Guilt and rage drips from his voice.
I feel helpless, having no idea what to do or say to him right now to make it better. I wish I could take his pain away and carry it as my own.
With a heavy breath I kiss his forehead then stand, reaching for his hand.
“Come on. Come inside.”
He allows me to lead him in, walking numbly and silently behind me. I bring him to the bathroom and start the shower, desperate to get this blood off of him before we talk anymore. “Give me your clothes, and I’ll throw them in the wash.”
After he strips I take the clothes to the laundry then walk back in the bathroom. Through the fogged glass door I see him standing under the hot spray, his hands braced on the wall while his head hangs between his arms in complete and utter defeat.
Removing my own clothes, I step in behind him and immediately start washing his body. I watch the blood wash away, mixing with the soap, and wish it was his pain flowing down the drain with it. As I move around to the front, scrubbing his chest and arms, he lifts his head, bringing his tortured eyes to mine.
“Who am I?” he asks, sounding so lost, so…distant.
Choking down the sob threatening to break free, I stare up at him through the billowing steam around us. “You’re Grayson Taylor, the bravest, most honorable man I’ve ever known.” Stepping closer, I reach up and cup his wet face, “I know it hurts right now, but what you found out tonight doesn’t reflect who you are. You’re still you and you’re still mine. I know you will find a way to make all of this right again. Just like you always do, and I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”
His eyes soften with my words. Before I can brace myself he lifts me from the floor and pins me against the wall, my legs immediately finding their home around his waist.
“I need you, Liv. I need to feel you,” he croaks, his breathing harsh as he tries to rein in his emotions.
His swelling cock poised at my entrance, he awaits permission. My heart leaps with need. “Yes.”
He impales me in one solid thrust, sending an army of sensations to explode throughout my entire body. My head falls back against the wall, mouth opening on a silent cry as he completes me—body and soul.
“Look at me, baby.” Bringing my eyes to his, he begins to move, filling me with each deliberate stroke. “I need you.”
“You have me. Always.”
My fingers cling to his shoulders, encouraging him to give it all over to me—the pain, the betrayal, every last bit of his anger. Our eyes stay locked the entire time, his desperation and our love swirling in a storm of certainty between us.
“Never leave me,” he breathes, his words raw and broken.
Tears burn my eyes and begin falling, mixing with the hot water streaming down my face. I bring my hands to his jaw to hold his face in place. “Never. I’ll never leave you,” I promise, the vow just as strong on my tongue as it is in my heart.
The look in his piercing blue eyes is unmistakable but the moment his mouth seals over mine, his strokes become faster, deeper, building pressure in the most incredible way as he takes what he needs from me. What I will inevitably always give.
“Mine.” He claims with a growl against my lips.
Eyes locked monumentally tight, I nod. “Always.”
He continues to move in and out with a force that can only be described as possessive, claiming every single part of me for his own. My body readily complies when my orgasm slams into me, hard and fast. On a deep groan, Grayson buries his face in my neck, taking his own release. His breath is harsh against my heated skin as I hold him through it all, whispering in his ear how much I love him.
“Everything will be okay, Grayson. We’ll get through this like we have everything else. I promise.”
He doesn’t say anything back but I feel more of the tension ease from him. I’m glad that for once I can be what he needs.
Be there for him like he’s always there for me.
CHAPTER 31
OFFICE OF THE GRAND DRAGON
The light in the room is bright yet dimmed with indignation, a gentle reminder of the secrets they’ve shared here. Secrets that have long been buried, or carried out and brought to fruition.
Make no mistake, it is not the light that guides them, but the darkness.
The hate.
The desolate fire of prejudice and contention is the only life they have ever known.
The grand dragon sits with purpose behind his large oak desk, strumming his fingers with rhythmic ease. He’s surrounded by dozens of photos adorning the walls of his office, a reminder of his birthright and where he came from.
Where he’s going.
His father was a Klansman, and his father before him, their bloodline of loyalty trailing all the way back to the late 1800s.
And it’s still alive.
Thriving.
Even now, when the world has grown far more tolerant and accepting, compliant, as he liked to call it, they refused to bow down. Refused to obey society’s definition
of order. To submit to anything less than what his ancestors had taught him or what is written in God’s word.
“Everything in place?” he addresses the three men standing before him.
Each one is an honorary member and diligent servant. These men he trusts immensely. These men will help him keep the Klan alive and carry out the law by which they live and breathe.
“Yes, sir. All except Prichard. We haven’t heard from him since the other night and nobody can get in touch with him.”
The grand dragon leans forward, reaching for his pack of Marlboro Reds resting on the edge of his desk. He pulls one from the carton with his lips, tossing the rest back down before firing up. Inhaling a long drag, he exhales a white plume of smoke. “Don’t worry, he’ll show. No way he’ll miss this. The time has come, boys, the reckoning. We’ve waited a long time for this, and now we’ll know what it’s like to taste victory the way our fathers did, by eliminating those who have been allowed to diminish the superiority of our race and destroy our town.”
They all nod in unison. His message clear and undisputed.
“In a few short days, there will be a new leader in Harmony Falls.”
CHAPTER 32
Grayson
I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. The lies. The betrayal. The truths I’ve discovered. I don’t think I’ve ever been so confused, so…conflicted in my life.
Then there’s Dixon.
Anger boils in my blood when I think about the damage he’s done, not only to me and my family but this entire town as well. A man I’ve known and trusted all of my life who is not only the leader of the fucking KKK, but likely had a hand in killing my father.
The knowledge burns in my gut like an inferno, destroying what’s left of my loyalty and respect.
After days of trying to sort it out, I’ve decided to push it aside for now, so I can figure this all out. I knew I wouldn’t be able do this on my own though. I need help. But the guy I trust most is still laid up in that goddamn hospital. Terrell’s conscious now but still in pretty bad shape. Liv has gone to see him, but I can’t. Not yet. Not until I bring down the fuckers who did it to him.
Every last one of them.
I ended up calling a friend of mine who works for the police department in the next town over. Dillon Lambert and I went to the academy together. Even though Harmony Falls isn’t in his jurisdiction, I knew he would come if I needed him. I didn’t tell him much except something was about to go down and to be on standby. Without hesitation he agreed, and thankfully didn’t ask a lot of questions. Which was good, because as of right now, I have very few answers.
After speaking with him, I called Wilkinson. He may be a rookie but he has a fire inside of him, the same one I feel burning in my own blood. He wears the badge for the right reason. So I went with my gut and it turned out I was right.
When I first revealed to him what I knew, he thought I was fucking crazy. That no way could Dixon be a part of something like that. But when I showed him the proof… To say he was shocked is an understatement, and he was also pissed enough to agree to help me bring it all down.
So here we are, long after dark, sitting at the kitchen table going over the contents of the files I took from the compound. I’m exhausted and frustrated as hell, but I refuse to give up. Time is everything at the moment. We need to figure this out and it needs to be now. Because whatever the hell Dixon was talking about, when I overheard him on the phone, is going down tonight.
Everything seems to be in fucking code and doesn’t make any sense. There are about a dozen photos inside along with a sheet of paper that has several sets of letters and numbers written on it, and we can’t figure out what the hell they mean.
After seeing the photos, I have no doubt that whatever the KKK is planning tonight is big and will inevitably rip our town apart.
“This is some sick shit, man,” Wilkinson says, holding one of the black and white images in his hand, his face twisting with disgust.
The photos date back to 1962. According to one article we found online, the twenty-seven-year-old man was brutally beaten and tortured before ultimately hanged on the courthouse lawn for expressing interest in running for Harmony Falls’s town council.
“Why have these now? Do you really think they would do something like this?” Wilkinson asks.
“Yeah, I do. Look what they did to Terrell.”
Just the thought has rage roaring in my veins. I lift the sheet with the letters and numbers that might as well have a big fucking question mark on it.
“Maybe they’re a combination to a safe or something,” he suggests.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Usually combinations are all numbers, no letters mixed in.”
“True.”
I quickly cover the pictures up with the sheet of paper as Liv walks into the room, freshly showered. Her sweet scent assaults my senses as she moves to the counter and retrieves the full coffee pot before walking over to the table.
“Thanks, baby,” I say as she refills our mugs.
She places the empty pot on the table then I pull her down on my lap and drop my forehead to her shoulder, taking a moment to hold her. I don’t know what I would have done these last few days without her. Losing myself in this woman has been the only comfort I’ve been able to find. She’s the only real certainty in my life right now.
“Still no luck?” she asks softly, sensing my frustration.
I kiss her smooth skin. “No.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
I shake my head. I’ve tried to conceal what’s in this file from her as much as possible. I don’t want her being exposed to this shit. She’s seen enough, been through enough violence to last her a lifetime. I refuse to subject her to anymore.
“It’s okay, baby. You can head to bed if you want. Don’t let us keep you up.”
“What are those?” she asks, pointing at the sheet of paper in front of me.
“A bunch of shit that doesn’t make any sense.” Wilkinson grunts.
“They almost look like abbreviated Bible verses,” she says, taking a closer look.
I tense. “Bible verses?”
“Yeah. Look.” She grabs the pencil and starts combining the letters with the numbers. “Move this here and this there and it could be Bible verses.”
Wilkinson and I make eye contact before he begins to furiously type on the laptop in front of him. My heart pounds with every passing second as I wait for his response.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he says, drawing a hand down his face.
“What?” I ask.
“She’s right. They’re Bible verses.”
I turn Liv around to face me and kiss the shit out of her. “You’re a genius, babe, a fucking genius.”
Her proud smile is soft. “Well, thank you. Glad I could help.”
I look back to Wilkinson. “So, what do they say?”
He holds his hand up briefly before he continues typing. “Jesus. I think we found our numbers,” he says, staring at the computer screen.
“Give it to me, Wilkinson.”
He turns the screen to me so I can see.
Liv begins reading the verse out loud. I hang on every single word, picking each one apart as I try to decipher the meaning.
“Ye shall walk in all the ways which the LORD your God hath commanded you, that ye may live, and that it may be well with you, and that ye may prolong your days in the land which ye shall possess.” (Deuteronomy 5:33)
I mull that over, my mind stumbling to catch up. Certain words stick out more to me than others.
“Land which ye shall possess.”
“Plug in the next one,” I demand.
A few clicks later and Liv is reading aloud again.
“The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law.” (First Corinthians 15:56)
I repeat the sentence over again, wondering what the hell it all means.
“Now just wait.” Wilkinson brings the com
puter back to him and begins typing again. “Those are actual Bible verses but when I typed in to search, this also came up. It might be what we’re looking for.” He turns the screen back to me.
The name of the website is just as disturbing as the words that fill the screen.
“These verses have been taken out of context and rewritten to suit their beliefs.”
“WE BELIEVE God gave Israel His Laws for their own good. (Deut. 5:33).
WE BELIEVE theocracy being the only perfect form of government, and God’s divine Law for governing a nation being far superior to man’s laws, we are not to add to or diminish from His commandments. (Deut. 4:1-2).
WE BELIEVE this includes segregation from all non-white races, who are prohibited in God’s natural divine order from ruling over Israel (Deut. 17:15, 28:13, 32:8; Joel 2:17; Isa. 13:14; Gen. 1:25-26; Rom. 9:21).”i
I read through the other twenty or so remaining passages before it hits me like a goddamn freight train. “Jesus, they’re talking about a new ruler.” My head snaps up to Wilkinson’s. “The mayor.”
“Oh God,” Liv says, her voice shaking.
Lifting up, I pull my cell from my pocket and put in a call to the station. I point down at the paper to the other numbers. “Type those in. Could they be coordinates?”
He does what I ask just as Lucy answers. “Harmony Falls Sheriff’s Department.”
“Lucy, it’s Grayson. Do me a favor and put me through to Mayor Rodgers’s home. It’s urgent.”
When she transfers the call, all I get is a busy signal, which isn’t good since it’s almost midnight.
“Shit!” I throw my phone down on the table. “Let’s head over there and—”
“Hold up.” Wilkinson cuts me off. “The rest of the numbers are coordinates.”
“Mayor’s house?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. Ten miles south of here. Remote location off Highway 283.”
I stand, lifting Liv with me to steady her on her feet.
“All right, radio whoever is on duty tonight and tell them to go to Rodgers’s house and check on him, just in case we’re wrong,” I tell him. “You and I will head to that location but don’t tell anyone that.”