Page 22 of Adam's Rising

Claire tugged on her blouse, trying to cover herself. “Stop that! I told you I wasn’t ready.”

Boyd pinned one of her arms, grabbing her breasts with the other.

With her free hand, she reached for the door handle. Leveraged, she used the same muscles to pull her body up and over a rock ledge to buck Boyd off her. She curled her legs to her chest, then kicked both of them forward, striking him in the solar plexus with her wood heels. She pushed the door open and rolled out onto her haunches.

“You bitch!” Boyd roared. “I think you cracked my ribs.” He stretched his long arms forward, reaching for her.

Claire jumped up and backward. “I saidno, Boyd! Is that two-letter word too long for you to understand?”

Boyd started to crawl out, but a long and muscular tanned arm shoved past her, pushing him back inside. “The lady said to leave her alone — Punk!”

Rusty!Thank God! Claire exhaled softly, trying to calm herself, the way she did when she was hanging from a rock, trying to reach her next handhold.

Boyd scowled at Rusty. “Go back to the res!”

One side of Rusty’s face pulled up in a mocking smile. “I’d expect that from a man who doesn’t know how to treat a lady — girl. How old are you, man? You do know she’s only sixteen?” Rusty turned to Claire. “You need a ride home, Claire?”

Buttoning her jeans, Lala hopped out of the back door. “No, I’m responsible for Claire. You can take that piece of shit home, though.”

Rusty pulled Boyd from the Blazer as if he weighed nothing more than a hay bale.

Boyd struggled to stand. “Get your hands off me, you stinking animal!”

“Sure thing!” Rusty released Boyd’s hands, sending him face-down in the dirt. “Get your own ride home.”

Lala directed Claire to the passenger door, then jogged around the front, jumping into the driver’s seat.

Boyd backed away from the Blazer, stumbling. He flipped off Rusty, then the row of onlookers when horns blared and people shouted obscenities.

Rusty rested a hand on the hood, preventing Lala from leaving just yet. When Boyd made it to concessions, Rusty opened the door. “You ladies good?” He raised his chin in Roger’s direction, who was still in the back seat. “He okay?”

Lala nodded and removed the speaker from the window.

“Thank you, Rusty,” Claire said.

Rusty dipped his head and stepped away from the door.

Lala spun out of the parking space. She was probably mad at Claire, even though it wasn’t her fault Boyd had gotten rough. Lala might be okay with going all the way with Roger, but Claire wasn’t ready — especially not with the likes of Boyd.

Just shy of the exit, Lala stopped and rolled down the window. “Hop in, Boyd. I’ll take you home.”

Boyd reached for the front passenger door.

Lala reached over Claire and smacked the lock. “Back seat!” She whipped around on the bench, glaring at Boyd as he climbed inside. “Don’t even think about touching my cousin again. Try anything, and you won’t have any balls to worry about, let alone whether they’re blue.”

Claire kept her eyes forward. Maybe Lala wasn’t mad at her after all.

Even better, Claire wouldn’t have to break up with Boyd — he’d singlehandedly destroyed any chance of continuing their relationship. No way would he have the nerve to ask her out again. Still, something about it all left her uneasy. The sneer he’d flashed… the way he’d turned violent so quickly… Was Boyd actually dangerous?

6

As tired as Adam was he forced himself to drink nearly a half-gallon of Clara Mae’s sweet tea before heading to the basement with Peter. Whenever he wanted to get out of the house before anyone else, it worked. His bladder would force him to get out of bed.

He had no idea what time it was, but his internal clock had been set at five a.m. for years — an early enough time to feed and visit the animals before school. Even though he hadn’t had to do that for the past year or so — since Thomas sold off their entire livestock — he found that he still enjoyed waking up before the rest of the household.

After brushing his teeth and dressing in the work clothes Clara Mae hadloanedhim — she was adamant that if he didn’t getnew duds(her words) she’d dock his pay — he threw his tied-together tennis shoes around his neck and headed to the stairs.

Peter cleared his throat. “Adam?”

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