GRIT: A Spartan Riders Novel

by J.C. Valentine

  Gabby was bringing something good out of him, and Blake liked it. He liked her. As if she felt him staring, Gabby’s head swiveled around and, catching his eye, she smiled softly, almost shyly.

  That was the moment Blake began to truly wonder what it would take to make her stay.

  ***

  Blake heard someone whimpering. Caught in a deep sleep, it was difficult to grasp the origin at first, the sound seeming to come from a great distance. Then it happened again, this time more pitiful, and was accompanied by movement. Slowly, he withdrew from sleep and became aware of his surroundings. Aware of the soft, warm female pressed up against his side.

  Gabby.

  It hadn’t taken much to get her to agree to stay. Especially after he stole her car keys and hid them, refusing to give them back until morning.

  He wasn’t above manipulation to get what he wanted.

  “No.”

  Gabby’s sharp plea brought Blake’s attention ‘round and he frowned, his hand automatically cupping her cheek in an attempt to sooth her. There was just enough light in the room to see her strained expression. Her softly parted lips gasped as if she couldn’t get enough air, and her cries grew increasingly pitiful, desperate.

  “Shh, Gabby,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Wake up, teach. You’re dreamin.’” A nightmare was more like it, from the sound of it. That was twice now that she’d descended into one while in his bed, and Blake found himself wanting to know—needing to know—what the cause was.

  Gently, he smoothed her hair back from her face and placed a series of kisses down the bridge of her nose, finally landing at her tender lips. He knew she was awake when her muscles began to relax and she exhaled into his mouth. Feeling her fingers in his hair, Blake allowed a moment to get lost as she kissed him back, languid and sweet, before pulling away to look her in the eye.

  “Hi.”

  Her eyes glossy and heavy with sleep, she smiled softly. “Hey.”

  “You were having a nightmare again,” he informed, searching her face. Immediately, her expression shuttered in an attempt to close him out. Rubbing the pad of his thumb over her plush bottom lip, Blake asked, “You wanna talk about it?”

  Her gaze skittered away. “I don’t remember.”

  “I don’t buy that.” Her eyes flew back to his, a question in them. “The way you cry? It sounds soul-deep, Gabby,” he said, losing the pet name so she knew he was serious. “Never heard anyone make a sound like that without there being a story behind it.”

  Giving up the pretense, she continued to avoid his gaze, but said, “It’s in the past.”

  “A past you’re afraid is still out there, waiting?”

  He waited patiently, until she finally gathered the courage to meet him head-on. “Yes.”

  Blake’s insides clenched. He hadn’t been expecting such honesty. He thought he’d have to work on her, really dig at her until he wore her down before he’d get a straight answer. Maybe it was because she was still half asleep, or because she simply needed someone to help shoulder the pain, but there it was, raw and unfiltered. “What are you afraid of?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Well, that destroyed that theory.

  Breaking their connection, Gabby rolled out from under him and left the bed. Blake watched her leave, sensing that she wasn’t going far. He waited while she disappeared into the bathroom, watched her every step as she returned a few minutes later.

  The air between them felt different now, heavier. The proverbial elephant in the room, Blake thought. Which only confirmed that whatever was plaguing her sleeping mind was something he should be concerned about. If it was something simple, like ex-boyfriend drama like her parents would have him believe, then she wouldn’t be this standoffish about sharing what was up. She wouldn’t be avoiding him now. No, whatever this was, it was bad enough to haunt her dreams and follow her into the waking hours.

  As Gabby climbed back into bed beside him and hunkered down under the blankets, he took stock of her too-pale skin and the slight tremble in her hands as she pulled the blankets up higher under her chin.

  Just like a child afraid of the dark would do, he thought.

  Rolling onto his side to face her, Blake stared into Gabby’s eyes, silently asking her to open up, to give him what he wanted. He didn’t want to pry it out of her—okay, he did—but the more he thought on it, the more desperate he became to have answers. And it was far easier to catch flies with honey.

  “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it,” he started, easing her into conversation. His gut roiled as he considered telling her a truth of his own, something he’d spent his life trying to keep under wraps for fear of being ridiculed. But he knew, a healthy relationship of any kind required sacrifices on both sides, and if he expected her to bear her soul, he needed to do the same.

  It was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done, but Blake decided that if ever there was going to be a time to do it, to test Gabby’s mettle, this could very well be it. The moment of truth, so to speak.

  Blowing out a breath, he continued down the path he’d started. “I need you to tell me what’s going on, but I understand if it’s something that scares you to share. In fact, that’s something we have in common.” Her eyes found his, a question in them. He forged ahead. “If I tell you my secret, you have to tell me yours. Deal?”

  He waited for her nod, then he blew out a heavy breath and told himself to just spit it out. “I’m dyslexic.”

  At first, she said nothing. The silence felt like a pall over the room, and Blake’s heart sank as his thoughts raced. What must she think of him? Did she think he was weak now, unworthy of her time? Was she already plotting her escape, but just trying to find the words to let him down easy?

  Doubts and insecurities ate at him until all Blake could do was grit his teeth and wait for the inevitable. Convinced she was about to bail, he was utterly shocked when she reached out to cup his grizzled chin and said softly, “I know.”

  Stunned, he searched her eyes. “You do?”

  “I spotted some signs and connected the dots.” He didn’t know how to respond, unable to believe that something he’d tried so hard over the years to hide had been so easily figured out. Was he that readable? She must have read the questions in his eyes, the insecurities that dogged him since childhood. “I don’t think any less of you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I think you’re just as smart and handsome and sexy as ever. Nothing has changed for me.”

  Disbelief shot through him like a bullet, until the warmth of her touch penetrated the cloud of self-doubt and he realized that she was telling the truth. His throat thick with emotion, he knew he needed to steer the topic away from himself or else risk shattering her perception of him completely.

  Shoving it all down, every wayward feeling and errant thought that whispered to him not to rock the boat any further, he turned the table around to her. “Your turn, teach. I need to know if this thing in your past is something I should be concerned about,” he confided, maintaining a calm, easy tone despite the impatience simmering in his gut and threatening to loosen his tongue. “If it’s something that could hurt Ash.”

  Her teeth made an appearance, drawing her bottom lip in and pressing down until the skin around them blanched under the pressure. Holding her steady gaze, Blake caught every nuance of her hesitant expression as it shifted into something more. He watched her eyes turn glassy, then wet, pooling with unspent tears as the tip of her nose turned rosy and her breathing grew labored.

  Concern flashed fast and deep in his chest, bottoming his stomach out once more. He propped himself up on his forearm, staring down at her. “What the hell are you into?” he asked, holding onto his mounting temper by a thread as dread coursed through him. His first instinct was to yell at her and kick her ass out the door, but then he thought of afterward, when the storm settled. She wouldn’t be there, and he hated the pit he felt open in his stomach at t
he thought.

  Shit, he was in way deeper than he’d thought.

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen.” Gabby’s voice was thick with emotion. A lone tear leaked from her eye, traveling over the side of her nose then toppling over the bridge to soak into the pillowcase. “I don’t know if anything is going to happen. That’s the worst part of all of this. I just don’t know.”

  Hating to see her cry, Blake reached out and chased her tears away with his thumb. “Then tell me what you do know. Tell me about the dreams.”

  EIGHTEEN

  “Get down on your knees and pray, puta. Pray I don’t put a bullet between your eyes, because that’s exactly what I plan to do if you don’t tell me where my fucking money is!”

  The cold, steel barrel of the .45 caliber pistol dug into her forehead. Gabby’s eyes pressed shut tight, terror rooting deep in her marrow. Still, she refused to do what he told her. If she got on her knees, if she submitted, she’d die. With everything she had in her, she knew she wouldn’t be leaving that room alive.

  There came a time in everyone’s life when they entertained their final days, wondering when and how it would happen. Gabby had mapped out every possible scenario in her mind, including ways to dodge death wherever possible. She’d made contingencies, purchasing tools to shatter car windows if she should find herself trapped in a car and sinking to the bottom of a lake. She’d hidden weapons around the apartment in case of intruders. She carried mace and a Taser in her purse in case of a mugging. She knew where the release mechanism was in most car models in case she was ever kidnapped and thrown into a trunk.

  What she hadn’t planned for was being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night by her boyfriend’s employer and his goons, hog-tied, transported to an undisclosed location, and held at gunpoint while being asked questions she didn’t have the answers for.

  As far as she knew, Shane worked the loading dock of a local furniture store’s shipping and receiving warehouse. His living accommodations certainly didn’t reflect the kind of wealth these men were accusing him of having stolen. And now here she stood, dressed in an old t-shirt and nothing else, being judged guilty by association by a madman with a gun.

  “If I knew,” she said, her voice trembling so hard she barely understood herself, “I’d tell you. Please, believe me. I don’t want to die.”

  Cold, hateful eyes the color of mud bored into her from the man’s superior vantage point beyond the shiny barrel in his hand. “You know, something tells me you’re telling the truth,” he said, giving her a moment to hope. It was quickly dashed away. “But even if that were the case, no one who comes here leaves breathing.”

  As if to demonstrate, the hand holding the gun swung wide, aimed at Shane who knelt beside her—already battered and bloody from multiple beatings—and fired.

  Gabby screamed, screamed as if the bullets were entering her instead of him. Screamed as her heart shattered into a thousand pieces as she watched Shane’s wide, shocked eyes turn dull, his body jerking under the relentless assault as the man unloaded on him until, finally, deafening quiet descended and he crumpled in on himself.

  She sensed someone behind her, the looming darkness reaching her just before she felt the sharp stab of pain in her lower back. As if she’d stepped away from herself, Gabby felt weightless as her legs buckled and she dropped to her knees. Collapsing completely, her cheek met the hard, unforgiving concrete floor, but she didn’t feel that either.

  A curious numbness filtered through her body as Gabby laid there and stared at Shane’s lifeless body lying on the floor beside her. One word entered her mind: survive.

  At all costs, she would survive.

  Even after all that time, she could still hear his voice, see his face, as if he were standing there in front of her.

  “He crouched down in front of me and said my wound wasn’t fatal, but if I didn’t tell him where the money was, then he’d make sure I died that night. I was dazed, but I didn’t want to die. So I told him I knew where it was. I knew where Shane kept the money,” Gabby said, keeping her gaze trained on the far wall so she wouldn’t have to see the condemnation in Blake’s eyes. “But I told them if they killed me, I would take the location to the grave. He got this look in his eyes, like he was thinking of doing it anyway, but then he pulled out his phone and walked away.

  “I thought that was it, that I was dead. But the next thing I knew, he was back. He told me he was going to be back, and when he was, I’d better not jerk him around. Then he told me to get well soon. I think I blacked out after that, because the next thing I knew, I was being loaded into the back of an ambulance.”

  She breathed deep, thinking of all that had come afterward. The days in the hospital, the tests, dark thoughts as she questioned if she’d ever walk again. “The blade just missed my spinal cord. A quarter inch to the left, and I could have been paralyzed.” She swallowed thickly. “As soon as I could stand without help, I got the hell out of there, and I didn’t look back.”

  Blake had a haunted look in his eyes. “I wondered where you’d gotten that scar.”

  Shame washed through her. “I’ve never let anyone see it before, but I forget myself when I’m with you.”

  The lines around his eyes softened and Blake’s hand ran over her hip and around to rest over the puckered scar. Gabby stiffened, but when his fingers smoothed over her skin and he didn’t shy away, she began to relax again. He wasn’t judging her.

  “I’m glad you forget yourself. That you trust me enough to let down your guard. That means a lot. Says a lot too.”

  He was right. She wasn’t sure when it’d started, but she did trust him. She’d always thought to never trust another man after the lies she’d uncovered about Shane. How easily he’d snowed her, leading her to believe he was just an average Joe, leading an average life. Ha! Once she knew where to look, there were shadows around every corner. At least with Blake, she knew what she was getting into from the start. He didn’t hide his life. He lived it out in the open for everyone to see.

  “So you knew where the money was, but you ran before they could come back and get the location out of you,” Blake said, recalling her attention.

  Her hair whispered across the pillowcase as she shook her head. Her gaze darted away, and she swallowed audibly. “I lied. I lied to save myself,” she confessed with a hoarse whisper.

  And it’d worked. The man with the muddy eyes had spared her life long enough to collect his money. She thought of the final promise he left her with, the one whispered in her ear that haunted her to this day. If she failed to give him the location, he’d finish the job, but only after making the rest of her days a living hell.

  Lying back down, Blake’s face was only inches from hers, so she could easily see the understanding reflected in his eyes. “It’s okay, Gabby,” he assured her in the gentlest voice she’d ever heard him speak. “You did what you had to do. The important thing is you’re here now.”

  That’s what she told herself every day. It’s what got her out of bed each morning. It’s why she decided to take a chance on Blake. If she’d learned anything in that room that night, it was that life wasn’t guaranteed, and she wanted to make the most of however many days she had left.

  But she wasn’t done. Now that she’d broken the seal on the past, she felt the need to purge it all. “At the hospital, I found out Shane was still alive. Barely, but he was hanging on. I couldn’t risk sticking around and having them do to me what they did to him, though,” she confessed, her insides shredding with each word that passed through her lips.

  “After I ran, put some miles between us, I put in some calls. Shane had lived. They’d labeled him a John Doe when he’d first arrived, which is probably the only reason they didn’t hunt him down to finish him off. That, and they thought he was dead.

  “Later, when the dust had settled some, I found out he’d been transferred to a nursing home and convinced them I was his sister so I could visit him.” Lifting her watery
gaze, she revealed the last bit of truth that ate at her every day. “He’s completely paralyzed from the neck down. He can’t even speak anymore.” Her voice hitched at the end, revealing the heartache she lived with every day, the guilt and regret that gnawed at her, and the fear brought on by the endless loop of memories that haunted her like a wraith in the night.

  “Why are you crying, teach?” His expression tight, Blake’s thumbs smoothed beneath her eyes, chasing away her tears.

  “Because it’s my fault he’s in there.”

  Brows furrowing, Blake shook his head. “And just how in the hell do you figure that?”

  Chin trembling, Gabby sucked in a steadying breath. “Because I should have let them kill me that night. If they had, no one would have come to save him. He would have died on that floor that night. Because of me, because I lied, he’ll spend the rest of his life bedridden, dependent on others to take care of him. He can’t even speak, the damage was so extensive. Because I wasn’t strong enough to let him go, he’ll spend the rest of his life a prisoner in his own body.” She couldn’t imagine a worse fate.

  “Jesus Christ,” Blake cursed with an air of impatience that Gabby didn’t quite understand. Grabbing her by the shoulder, his grip tightened briefly before pulling her into his chest and tucking her head beneath his chin. “Leave it to a woman to blame herself for every damn thing,” he huffed. “That idiot brought what happened down on himself. He brought it down on you. If you ask me, he deserves everything he got.”

  Maybe he was right, but that didn’t shake the feeling of responsibility she lived with. Especially because, despite all the purging she’d already done, there was still one important detail she was leaving out, and she didn’t think she’d ever drum up the courage to say it out loud.

  Nestled against his warmth, Gabby found her thoughts traveling back to that pivotal moment in time, back to when her life stopped being her own. It was a fragile reality that she lived in, one built on secrets and lies—lies not even her parents knew.