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have me tearing up.”
    “Watery eyes and a runny nose.” A soft smile graced his mouth. “That can be an issue. Our clients will be here at three.”
    “Thank you. I’ll get the notes to you within the hour.” She plastered on a bright smile and reached for the file in her inbox.
    “I’m not sure if anyone has told that you are a fantastic addition to the team. Your diligence is appreciated.” He shut the door with a definitive click.
    She opened the folder and peered at the paper. Words blurred and tears fell settling in little circular droplets across the sheets. She pressed her knuckles to her eyes to stem the flow and folded her lips against one another to keep from crying out aloud. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed silently. She pounded her chest with her fist to move the knot forming around her heart.
    What was wrong with her that she didn’t deserve love? What would it take for someone to care about her?
    She laid her face down on the documents and let the tears flow.
    ****
    From the comfort of his truck cab, Riley watched the building New World Watch had rented for the month. There was a group meeting that night, but they had to be careful; cars with government tags had been spotted nearby. He couldn’t shake the feeling that, with all the racial tension happening lately, his group was on some agency’s watch list. The thought gave him pause. It was more bullshit to worry about.
    There wasn’t much time before he had to return to his job on the oil rig. He couldn’t leave NWW up in the air, and lately Isaac, Bobby Jack’s daddy, was becoming vocal about collaboration between the Aryans and the Klan. He wanted to join forces to organize a rally regarding the Confederate flag and the attack on white Americans. To forgo the flag was to lose a piece of their heritage.
    Other groups were signing on with the old man with the hope of displaying a united front. Riley snorted. There was so much infighting between the factions, yet the flag gave them common ground. He dropped his head back on the rest. He couldn’t let Isaac continue his operations unchecked. None of the groups could really afford to draw any attention from the Feds.
    After the Klan, his group was the second largest in membership. He stroked his beard; he had loyal men and women under him, but Bobby Jack was a liability and the blanket protection he provided his cousin would come back to bite him in the ass.
    Damn it, why couldn’t Whit have been a white woman? He picked up the knife in his cup holder and flicked it open, and then closed it. The clicks created by working the blade helped him think.
    It was too soon to call Uncle Isaac out. The man worked on the fringes; he wasn’t exactly liked in the Klan, but the son of a bitch produced results. He had high recruitment numbers, and the funds he raised which bought weapons and allowed for the training of their foot soldiers was always needed. Folks tended to turn a blind eye to how the money was made as long as it kept coming. Meth sales kept the shit rolling in hand over fist. Seemed no one cared that the very thing that was lining the group’s coffers was also the very thing killing young white men and women, more so than the niggers, spics, and camel-humpers they were taught to despise. Somewhere in the midst of trying to hold on to their culture and way of life, they were changing into the very thing they hated.
    Men and women wearing traditional skinhead gear of brown or black T-shirts, dark jeans rolled up at the hem, and steel toe work boots strolled past his vehicle toward the meeting hall. New World Watch slogans were sprawled across the clothing and thick chains hung from some members’ belts. A few carried the Confederate flag draped across their shoulders.
    Riley glanced down his body at his brown button-down shirt and coffee-colored slacks. For the meeting, he’d donned attire similar to Nazi uniforms worn by the paramilitary ranks during Hitler’s reign. At thirty-three, he