Grey: New Beginnings (Spectrum Series Book 5)

by Allison White

  “Liv?” Grey’s voice draws me back into the present.

  I look up from the napkin and fold it until it’s small and in my lap.

  “You okay?” His concerned eyes glance down, his thumb prodding mine. I interlock our fingers and sit up, giving him all of my attention.

  “I’m fine. So, when’s the UFC fight?”

  Chapter Six

  “How do I look?” I ask Grey as I exit our closet, dressed in a maroon velvet dress. It falls just past my mid-thighs, is strapless, and has a bit of a heart neckline. I instantly fell in love with the dress the minute I set my eyes on it. Not only is it cute, but it’s comfortable and matches a pair of maroon three-inch heels I’ve had for a long while.

  I do a little spin for Grey, who is sitting on our bed, dressed simply in his usual outfit of his leather jacket, boots, jeans, and a black shirt. Only his hair is more tousled, and his beard is thicker, making him look sexier than ever. The urge to push him back on the bed and cover his skin with my kisses burns incredibly bright. This doctor order to keep my hands and weak heart, weak everything really, to myself is driving me insane, but I know it’s in my best interest. For my heart. I am trying to appear healthy and okay. That façade will turn to crap if I have a heart attack with me on top of him.

  “Well?” I shrug my shoulders, fisting the hem of the dress.

  His eyes rake up and down my body. “Eh.”

  “Eh?” I laugh and spin again, stumbling a bit on the heels. He laughs at me, and I flush the color of my dress. “What do you mean, eh?”

  “I mean, we’re going to a club to celebrate your famous boyfriend’s blossoming career…and you look like you’re going to my grandma’s bingo night with her old lady friends, Meredith and Ruth.”

  “Rude!” I gasp. He has absolutely no filter.

  He shamelessly shrugs like the bastard he is. “I mean well, baby.”

  “Don’t baby me.” I backtrack into the closet and tug the dress off. I skim through my dresses, but all I find are mostly blouses and skirts for the program. I did a huge haul when I shopped in preparation. It takes me a few minutes before I finally find a dress that is “club appropriate.” A simple black dress with thin straps that’s loose toward the bottom. I get in it, instantly admiring how comfortable the fabric is, and slip into a pair of low heels.

  I walk out of the closet and strike a model pose, making him do a double take. “How about now?”

  His lustful eyes drag up and down my body while shaking his head. “Hell no. Take that off.”

  I laugh at his ridiculous command. “Nope.”

  “You are not going to a club looking…like that.”

  “Why?” I spin, feigning ignorance. “Do the shoes not look good with it?” I clack my heels together and bunch my lips to one side.

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” he grumbles.

  I laugh and walk over to him. “I’m yours. You already know that.” I wind my fingers through his hair and tug his hair back while his hands busy themselves by wrapping around my waist, pulling me in between his legs. “Why are you being insecure?”

  “I am not insecure,” he scoffs. His hands slide up my dress, and his offended expression quickly snaps into one of lust. Before I can see it coming, I am pinned to the bed with my hands grasped above my head. “I just don’t want my girl out in public, in a fucking club, looking like a fucking vixen. You are mine, princesa, and I don’t want to have to spend the night in jail for knocking sense into any guy who dares a glance at you.”

  “Reading too many werewolf books, have you?” I tease, quirking my lips in a smirk.

  “When it comes to you, babe, I’m the most possessive one you’ll hear about,” he says haughtily.

  “Okay, Alpha. But—” I push him back and stand up, tugging down at the dress. He watches me with hooded eyes. “We need to get going. I think they’re already at the club.” I sit at my new vanity I had Grey set up for me and wing eyeliner on my eye. He was really opposed to getting a “chick” desk in his room, but then I reminded him that we live together now, meaning he has to be fair. Plus, I was super sick from some strong pain medicine and won him over when I wouldn’t stop vomiting.

  “Who cares?” I watch him roll his eyes in the mirror.

  “I do. I do not want them to wait on us, especially since it was your idea,” I remind him, and he stays silent. I smile, having won his compassionate side, at least a little bit, and finish the little touches on my light makeup.

  “Done. We can go now,” I say ten minutes later.

  “Finally. I’m ready to get trashed.” He pumps his fists in the air.

  I roll my eyes and am walking out when he grabs my hand. “Yeah?” I look up at him in confusion. I thought he was ready to “get trashed,” so what’s the hold up?

  “Forgetting something?” He holds up my black shoulder bag that was hung up on the back of the plush vanity chair.

  I flush and mentally slap myself for being forgetful. “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

  “You okay? Up here, I mean?” He taps my forehead, and I turn my head, making his hand fall to his side.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” I swiftly kiss his cheek and open my mouth to wave off my airy mind when my chest burns, and I pull away. I freeze. Blood is smeared slightly where my lips were. I quickly caress his cheek with my thumb while licking and swallowing the evidence.

  “Liv?” He tilts his head. “What are you doing?”

  “We should go.” I smile when there is nothing on his skin.

  He opens his mouth to press my odd behavior, but I just tug on his hand and turn around.

  “They’re waiting for us, Grey. We have to go,” I chirp, ignoring how light-headed I feel.

  Healthy, I have to appear healthy…

  ***

  “Bambi! Everyone get the fuck out of the way! Bamberella!” I laugh as Jaimie literally pushes people while running my way like I am the last pair of leather boots on sale. She’s beaming and dressed in a sparkly purple and silver dress, hair curly and shiny under the club lights. It’s honestly crazy how quickly and easily she spotted us as we just entered the club. I guess she’s been watching the door like a hawk.

  “Jaimie!” I open my arms, and she collides into them, pressing into my chest. I wince and flinch at the blinding pain that radiates from my chest to my arms.

  “Shit! Crap, I am so sorry! I forgot!”

  “That I got shot?” I laugh while grimacing.

  “Well, yeah. I’m sorry,” she continues to apologize profusely, shifting her wide gaze to Grey.

  I side-glance him as he rubs my back, single-handedly easing the pain.

  Healthy, remember?

  “It’s okay. Honestly. It only stings a bit.” I subconsciously rub my chest. “Um, where’s Julia?”

  “She’s getting us drinks, but she’ll meet us in our section,” she says, eyeing where my hand grips my throbbing chest. I drop it and push a lock of hair behind my ear.

  “We have a section?” I clear my throat.

  She nods with a large grin. “Yup. Our very own V.I.P. Cost an arm and a leg to get for the night, but a certain someone deserves it.” She pokes Grey’s stomach, and he swats her hand away. She and I burst into a fit of laughter at his cute but guarded shyness. I pinch his pink cheek and peck his lips. His eyes grow wide, but he hides his sudden excitement with his “cool” exterior.

  I roll my eyes. “Let’s go to your V.I.P. section, shall we?” I bounce my shoulders, and she nods, taking my other hand that Grey isn’t latched onto. Grey glares and growls at any and every guy who glances at me as we make our way to the section. I laugh the entire time and give his hand a good squeeze, letting him pull me closer. He can be the most possessive guy ever. But I find it weirdly sweet. It just means he wants me all to himself, and that’s how I want it too. I am forever only his.

  We walk up a tall metal staircase where there are even more people dancing and screaming down below. We stop at a ro
om that has sheer red curtains for walls. A tall, suited man unclips a velvet rope and wordlessly waits for us to get in. Fancy. The connected couch is velvet red and looks incredibly plush. There is a chandelier above that is all twinkling lights and glam.

  “Wow,” I utter in awe.

  “I know, right!” exclaims Jaimie.

  “Great.” Grey sits down and yanks me onto his lap. “Now I don’t have to stand or fight fuckers away from you.”

  Jaimie and I just roll our eyes.

  “Fucker, if you don’t move…” Julia growls and enters the spacious room moments later, with a tray of shots in her hands. Like, a big tray with a lot of shots. Her rare smile appears and brightens when her eyes land on me. “Wounded Bambi!”

  “You can’t say wounded. It’s offensive,” Jaimie hisses, but I am sure the whole club heard her.

  “It’s okay.” I laugh and unwrap Grey’s arm, giving him a look before hugging Julia.

  “You look great for an injured deer,” she says with a grin. I laugh because I know, in her weird way, she means well.

  “Thank you.” I gladly perch back on Grey’s lap. He smirks and snags a kiss on my cheek. I flush as I realize the girls are watching us with silly smiles. “So, shots anyone?” I gesture to the shots Julia set down on the glass table in the middle of the room.

  “Are you sure you’re able to…?” asks Jaimie.

  I nod, throat tight. “Of course, I am.”

  “I don’t think so, babe.” Grey rubs my thigh, and I look over my shoulder at his hardened expression.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Because you’re not of age.” He shrugs.

  “Bullshit,” I scoff. I have drunk many times before, with him by my side, I might add. He has never had a problem age-wise before. So why now?

  “Fine. I don’t want it interfering with your pills or anything.” His mouth is upturned, and I bite my lip.

  “It won’t,” I assure him, and his eyes flick up, squinting skeptically. “I took my pills this morning, over seventeen hours ago. I think I’ll be fine to have one drink or two.” I rub his cheek with a small smile, trying to relieve the hardness of his eyes. “Can’t I celebrate my man’s big accomplishment?”

  He stares at me, eyes burning through me intensely.

  “If you guys won’t take all these shots, I’ll just do ‘em myself,” Julia croons.

  A little frustrated and angry muffled sound slips out of his mouth as he rolls his eyes and nods. “One. Just one.”

  “Just one,” I repeat, kissing his lips. He crushes me into his chest, and I giggle. I pull apart from his tender lips devouring me when the couple behind us groans in disgust. “Okay, let’s get to celebrating.” I turn to face the tray. Jaimie looks hesitant as she gives me a shot. I just smile at her and hand it back to Grey, who is still eyeing me cautiously. I hate that I have to basically consult with him to have a something as simple as a drink. I am an adult. Not a broken doll that has to be watched twenty-four-seven.

  “To Grey!” I raise my glass.

  “To Grey!” the girls repeat.

  We all clash our glasses together, and I gaze at Grey, at his bright smile and our hands that are intertwined together. The vodka going down makes my chest tingle, and it burns like a bitch going down. But I take deep breaths while everyone, even Grey, chats about his accomplishment. I rub my chest and quickly jump in the conversation.

  The next two hours fly by until it is two in the morning. We migrated downstairs to the dance floor about an hour ago. Grey has me under his spell and dark eyes the entire night. He holds me close and makes it known that I am his. My chest and neck are littered with dark marks that I will proudly wear tonight. I finally feel like I am recovered. Well, not really. But it’s nice to think that I am. To have bypassed the random pain in my chest, the hallucinations, the nightmares. I just want to be…me again. Without the gaping hole near my heart.

  My burst of normality is cut short when I stumble a little, light-headed.

  “You all right?” Grey cups my face, and I search for words.

  “I-I’m fine. I just…I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” I tell him over the music.

  “I’ll take you there,” he says, and I laugh, shaking my head.

  “I’ll be right back,” I promise. I give him a tight-lipped smile before turning around. My smile falls when I taste the trace of metal on my tongue as my chest burns. I weave through the crowd, muttering apologies. I feel like I am floating through space. I don’t find ground, and my head is swelling; my chest is about to burst.

  I finally burst through the bathroom door. A few girls shift in and out. All of the stalls are full.

  I am forced to tear off a paper towel and bring it to my mouth. I cough harshly, eyes pinched closed. I pull it away, and my eyes tear up at the dark blood splattered, nearly soaking through the paper. A tear drops onto the pool of blood. I just close my eyes and stuff it down the trash. I splash water on my face while telling myself, “I am okay. I am okay…” over and over until I believe it myself. Tears stain my face, but I wash them away and force the blood at the back of my throat to go down and leave me alone.

  Chapter Seven

  The rest of the night is spent with them unaware of what’s going on with me. I don’t even know what’s going on with me. I know from the very first cough up I should have gone straight to the hospital. Surely it isn’t normal to suddenly cough up blood. But if I did that, what would happen?

  I’d be under intensive care and prying eyes twenty-four-seven again. I would be restricted from feeding myself pudding. I would be looked at like an injured puppy kicked in the chest. But I am not an injured puppy. I am just a girl who was at the wrong place at the wrong time, struck with a life-changing stray bullet. I am a girl who is trying to move on. I just want to be okay again. I don’t want to be stuck and prodded and spoken to softly. This will probably pass, and I will definitely move on with my life.

  I awake the next morning feeling sick. Stomach rumbling kind of sick. It doesn’t help that all the comforters are wrapped around my body, making me feel like a burning up marshmallow. I kick the thick sheets off my legs and stand. I curse under my breath when I see it is ten past nine. I have under an hour until I have to be at school. I have school all of this week. How it works with the program and school is I go to school one week, then the program the next. It will be on and off, sometimes mixed, and it will be stressful. The doctors have advised I take it slow. I only got shot last month, but I can’t slow down. In fact, I need to speed up more than ever.

  I don’t have time to take for granted. I have two important things I have to maintain that won’t wait for me to stop and take a breath. If I do, they will slip away without any hesitation. I basically got a promotion at the program. My boss seems to like me, however odd he appears. His approval will help me in the long run and ensures that I’m on the path to success. And school, I have always loved learning, the ability to retain knowledge without limits. I can’t lose school or the program, which I was lucky enough to get into twice. I know there won’t be a third acceptance, so I will refrain from taking my second entry lightly.

  I shuffle into the kitchen, agitated, though my mood instantly spikes when I see Grey shaking cereal out into a bowl, my favorite, in fact: Lucky Charms. I watch as he puts the box back in the cupboard, but I notice there are loads more. And he doesn’t even like them. So he essentially bought them just for me. Hoarded would be the better term, actually. That little sentiment makes my heart soar, and I am momentarily sated and not prepared to rip his head off his marvelous body.

  He must hear my conflicted thoughts, because he looks up after pouring out orange juice in a tall glass. The warm smile that overtakes his face makes my stomach ruffle like feathers.

  “Oh, good morning, sleeping beauty,” his raspy morning voice croons.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?” I grumble, voice thick with exhaustion. I feel like I barely caught a wink of sleep las
t night. I woke up once to cough up blood once again and wasn’t able to sleep much after that. I contemplated going to the hospital and getting myself checked out without Grey but decided against it. I don’t know how long I would have been there, and I couldn’t miss school. Plus, I don’t want to worry Grey. He has this huge fight coming up, and I want him focused on that. I’ll be okay.

  “Because you seemed really tired,” he says and places the bowl of cereal and glass of juice in front of me as I sit behind the kitchen island. “I thought you could use the rest.”

  Oh, bless his heart. He’s being so sweet.

  I smile graciously. “Thank you, that’s very sweet…but I have school in less than an hour.”

  “So?” He shrugs. “I’ll drop you off and pick you up.”

  “Don’t you have training? Your fight is in just one month. You don’t have time to waste on me.” I spoon some cereal in my mouth and watch as his face twists up in protest.

  “Making sure you get to school won’t get in the way of training; I’ll just go to the gym as soon as I drop you off,” he explains. “And I won’t be wasting anything on you. Your health is much more important.”

  I shake my head and pause in eating. “I’ll just take the bus.”

  His brows scrunch together. “Did you not just hear me? I will take you.”

  “But Grey—” I sigh.

  “No buts,” he cuts me off and crosses his arms. “Now eat. I don’t want you too late or I’ll never hear the end of it.” He rolls his eyes, and I blush.

  “Okay, Daddy,” I tease, sticking my tongue out since he’s acting like a father more than a boyfriend.

  His eyes grow hooded, and his lips twist in a promising smirk. “I wouldn’t use that term loosely, if I were you. Unless you want to skip class altogether so I can show you how much of a daddy I can be…” I freeze and feel myself flush at the sexual undertone in his words. I almost choke on my juice, but I rub my burning chest and shake my head.