Riven Knight (Clifton Forge, #2)

by Devney Perry

Kaine chuckled, picking up an ax leaning against a post at the top of the porch stairs. “Come on, boys. Uncle Isaiah is coming with us.” The twins squealed in unison, struggling to stand with their thick clothing. Kaine walked to them, patted Koda on the head, then helped his sons up, one by one.

I was his wife, after all. I’d always thought some other woman would come along and be the one to heal him. She’d be the one to put light in his eyes. But then months had passed. Feelings had grown. He didn’t need another woman to break through his walls. Isaiah needed me.

“I have opened up my heart to you. I’ve told you everything about my mom. About how I’m really feeling. I laid it all out there. I cut myself open and let you see the ugly mess inside. You’re the one person in the world who gets the real me. Why can’t I have that from you?”

Silence was my armor. Because if I cut myself open, I’d never be able to sew the wounds shut.

She let me go and pointed at my face. “There. That. You look like you’re about ready to crawl out of your skin because I kissed you. And you know what? I hate you for it. I hate you for it. Because I look forward to every single one of those pretend kisses even though you look like⁠—”

I crushed her lips to mine. I wound my arms around her back and hauled her to my chest. I ran my tongue across her bottom lip. I moaned into her mouth as she let me dip inside for a taste. I kissed her the way I’d wanted to kiss her for months.

Genevieve had the power to destroy me completely. My life would be in ruins when she walked away. This kiss wouldn’t change the future. I shoved t...

“What do I do?” he whispered. “Kiss me,” I whispered back. He dipped his head, tilting mine just where he wanted it. The first kiss had been a release. A test. But what came next was so full of heat and power, it left me dizzy.

His fingers dropped from my face and drifted down my neck. They pressed into my skin, branding me with his touch as they slipped lower. In one large hand, he cupped my breast through my sweater, filling his palm.

Isaiah was kissing me. We had no audience. We had no ulterior motive. This kiss was mine.

He lifted off me, grabbed one of my hands and hauled me up to a seat. Then he flicked the center clasp on my bra, replacing the lace with his hands. “Oh, God,” I moaned, my head rolling loose the moment he had my nipples pinched between those calloused fingers.

He shifted us deeper into the bed, settling his weight into the cradle of my hips and forcing my thighs apart. My bra was stretched behind me from one elbow to the other. My knees were up and bent, my legs splayed open. It was a wanton position, no holds barred. I closed my eyes and offered my body for his taking.

Isaiah looked in the mirror and saw everlasting broken pieces, but maybe my broken pieces would fit with his. Together, maybe we’d make a whole.

He swallowed hard, tearing his eyes away to meet my gaze. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you.” “Take me anyway.” We were a blur as he captured my mouth in another scorching kiss.

“I’m not ready for it to be over.” He cast me a longing glance. “Not yet.” Me neither. I smiled and padded to the bed to crawl in beside him. We curled together. My head rested on his chest. His hand closed over mine on his stomach. Our legs intertwined. The pieces fit.

The one thing I’d been able to count on these past few months was Isaiah. He was my new constant, even with his hot-and-cold behavior. He might be sullen and somber, but he was always there. His friendship was the most important relationship in my life.

He was a protector. A good man with a broken heart.

I bet he’d laughed. I bet he’d smiled. It was strange to think of him happy and in love, something I hadn’t seen with my own eyes, but I could imagine it as clearly as I saw him hunched on the couch. He wasn’t that man anymore. Shannon’s version of Isaiah had died with her.

“Why you have to go. Because I don’t deserve to have you here. Not after what I did. And I’ve got nothing to give you.” Wrong again. He had love to give. It might not show on the surface, but it was there, peeking out when he looked at his brother. Or hugged his mom. Or played with his nephews. Isaiah was shoving me out the door because he was terrified of the connection between us. “I’m not leaving. I made that decision months ago and I’m not changing my mind now.”

Knowing the whole story doesn’t change anything. Just like last night, us being together, doesn’t change anything.”

Last night, he’d let down his guard. Last night, I’d fallen asleep in his arms. And last night, I’d stopped pretending I wasn’t in love with my husband.

“I meant, I don’t want you to go. To leave.” “Oh.” She gave me a small smile as she put the car in park. “Good. I wasn’t going to anyway.” I grinned. My stubborn wife.

She smiled, a full, bright, white-toothed smile. I nearly fell on my ass. There was no pity in her gaze, only affection.

She looked at me like I’d never told her about Shannon. Like those years in prison had never happened.

Genevieve looked at me and saw the man I’d once been. The man who’d laughed easy. The man who hadn’t appreciated his freedom. The man who’d needed a woman like Genevieve to straighte...

I took Genevieve’s face in my hands. “Block them out.” “How?” I dropped my lips to hers, letting the kiss linger for a long moment. I savored the soft feel of her lips and the smell of her hair. When we broke apart for our picture, she had a rosy glow on her cheeks and a little smile on her face. Picture or not, I’d remember that look until the end of my days.

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.”

I came in case you needed me.” I let my head fall against his shoulder. “I always need you.” And always would.

Isaiah leaned into the cab and dropped his forehead to mine. “We’ll figure it out.” “How?” “Together.”

Isaiah leaned away and cupped my cheeks, staring into my eyes like I was something precious.

“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.”

But it was real, wasn’t it? Somewhere along the way, this marriage had become the most real thing in my life.

He was my best friend. He was there for me every day. When something happened at work that made me laugh, he was the first person I wanted to tell. When I woke up some mornings in a foul mood, he made me coffee with cream because it almost always cheered me up. The chocolate chip cookies I made every week weren’t for me anymore—they were Isaiah’s.

He took a small step forward, his arms lifting slightly. I’d never hugged Draven. I’d hardly touched the man. But in that moment, I flew into his arms, wrapping my arms around his waist and hugging him for all the hugs I’d missed in my life. “Proud of you, girl.” Draven’s whisper hit my ear at the same time the tears fell down my cheeks. “So damn proud.” I smashed my face harder into his chest. “Thanks, Dad.” His arms squeezed tight at the name.

“It’s Draven.” My heart stopped. “What?” “He’s . . . dead,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, doll. He’s gone.”

Dash was blurry as he stepped closer. Three long strides and my brother was hugging me, squishing me to his chest. Shocked by the change, it took me a moment to hug him back. Then my arms found their way around his back. The embrace didn’t last long, seconds really, but in that moment, I didn’t feel quite so alone.

I tipped up my chin, finding his colorful eyes waiting, those swirls darkened with every skipping heartbeat. Then his lips dropped to mine and all was lost. My worries. My fears. My heart.

we found one another again. We didn’t drift apart. When many would have pulled away, the hurdles life had thrown at Isaiah and me only seemed to push us closer.

Isaiah was my dream.

Isaiah smiled. Not a grin. Not a turn of one corner of his lips. Not just the crinkles at his eyes. A full-blown, goddamn-my-husband-is-gorgeous smile. Straight, white teeth and everything. It was a sight I’d never forget. And I’d put that there. Me. The woman who’d planned to let the next in line have all the smiles.

I was keeping him. Because I was in love with my husband.

Tears fell without my permission, blurring Isaiah’s smile. It disappeared altogether when he hugged me to his chest. And he held me, all through the night, while I mourned the loss of my parents. While I said my silent goodbyes.

“Do you think, someday, the past will stop defining who you are?”

Genevieve was asking if I’d ever be happy. Would I stop living life by going through the motions? Did I deserve to feel joy? Did I deserve a life with her? I wanted it. I wanted that future more than I’d wanted anything in my life. I wanted to deserve this woman in this bed. I wanted to be a man who smiled because mine seemed to illuminate hers. But I didn’t have a damn clue how to get there. “I hope so, doll.” “I hope so too,” she whispered.

“Oh, please.” Genevieve rolled her eyes. “You look in the same mirror I do every morning. You know you’re the hot one in this pair.” “You think I’m hot?” She slid her sunglasses into her hair, her expression turning serious. “Isaiah, you’re the sexiest, most handsome man I’ve seen in my life. And your heart? When you let me in, you literally steal my breath away.”

“You’re hot.” She shot me a wry grin. “Gee. Thanks.” “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re beautiful,” I repeated, just to make sure it sank in. “You’re kind. You’re smart. You make the best cookies I’ve ever tasted. And every time we’re together, I can’t believe it gets better.”

“Genevieve.” I waited until she glanced over, until I had her attention for a second. “You stand apart. From everyone.”

My heart wasn’t hers anymore. I’d given it to Genevieve.

But there was a difference between living with the guilt and letting it control my life.