Reed (Book 2, Southern Royals Saga)

Chapter 6: Lightning, Thunder, and a Kiss

September 13, 2014

Helena, Alabama

I stood on the back porch as the sun set, coating the sky in a deep-reddish orange color.

Our plan was set in motion.

"I'm actually kind of excited to see her again," Noah said, fixing his navy tie in my bathroom mirror.

"I just hope she's cooperative."

Noah meets my gaze in the mirror before turning around.

"They're not gonna hurt her, right?"

"I told Royce to do what he had to."

"What if they hurt her?! Abby doesn't deserve that!"

"She'll only be hurt if she fights back, but it'll all work out in the end."

"What? You gettin' some from Liv Walker?"

I glare at my cousin, fists clenching as I crossed my arms, "Just get ready, asshole."

Noah had no idea what he was talking about.

He was the only one with sex constantly on his mind.

I thought more long-term.

Sure, sex between Liv and I would be phenomenal. Sure.

But you can't base a relationship off sex.

That's something Liz taught me when she and Anthony gave me the talk when I was 13.

"Sex without love is meaningless," Anthony had told me.

That's why I never had sex with any girl I dated in the past.

I didn't love them.

I've never been in love until now.

I knew I'd never love anyone else.

Liv would be my girl, my woman; someday, my wife.

Liv Reed had a nice ring to it.

I wanted her to mother my children; we would grow old together, watch our children and grandchildren grow. We would die together, with grey hair and brittle bones.

Love each other more than two people ever loved one another.

It begins tonight.

~

Selma, Alabama

8:45 p.m.

Selma Transportation was old, run-down, and, best of all, deserted.

I parked Shelby within the darkness of the condemned train station; whoever came first, I'd see them before they saw me.

As much as I distrusted Royce and his crew, they got shit done.

They've killed, raped, and stolen.

But they got shit done.

I'd probably have to kill them before long, knowing Aaron Wheeler's track record with forcing himself on women. And Royce's allowance of it.

Royce flashes the headlights on his old, wrecked Ford, twice, signaling that it's him. I exit my car as he parks on the other side of the station.

"Package one of two!" Royce shouted, pulling a beaten and bloodied Noah from the passenger side.