GRIT: A Spartan Riders Novel

  “I never told anyone else what happened that night. No one. Not even my parents. They think I had a bad split with my boyfriend and came back home to escape awhile. I spend every day living with the knowledge that, at any time, those men might show up on my doorstep and follow through with their promise,” she whispered, her arms banding around Blake’s back in an iron hold. “And now I have to live with knowing that I might have put them in danger. Put you and Ash in danger, too.”

  Forcing herself to break away, Gabby dashed away her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, Blake. So sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with you knowing what could happen.”

  Bringing his hand up, Blake brushed her hair back from her face, his lips pressed into a thin line as he sat there and studied her with a critical eye. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but when he finally spoke, his voice was gruff, laden with some unnamable emotion.

  “I was right about you. When I first saw you, I knew you’d be trouble, a complication that I couldn’t afford to involve myself with.”

  Inside, Gabby warred with herself at hearing his tightly spoken confession. A part of her was indignant at being labeled a complication, while a much larger part of her fully agreed. She was a complication, and with Ash to care for, he couldn’t afford someone like her in his life. Yet, for whatever reason, they’d both ignored their intuitions and forged ahead, and now they were intertwined, both holding onto something that never should have been.

  “But I’ve learned some things over the years, Gabby, and one of them is to live day by day and to appreciate whatever gifts God sees fit to give me.” His thumb stroked across her jaw, coming to rest on her bottom lip. His gaze fixated there, he continued. “For some reason, He gave me you, and I have to believe that reason is because you need me. Maybe it’s for protection. Hell, maybe it’s because Ash needs a woman in his life who gives a shit, or maybe it’s simply because He knows each of us needs a soft place to fall at the end of the day, but whatever His purpose, He brought us together. He wanted us to be here now, and I’m not about to question why.”

  Gabby’s mouth opened to issue a protest, but then she snapped it shut, thinking better of it. It was selfish of her, she knew, but she didn’t want to argue his point or challenge his beliefs. If she did, she might very well talk him into kicking her out of his life for good, and she was just starting to get used to having him around.

  Why would she risk losing what they’d only just begun to build over the chance of something happening? As it was, there was no evidence to say that she was in danger. No suggestion that anyone was looking for her. Since she’d made a run for it, she’d spent every waking moment looking over her shoulder, only to find nothing there.

  Maybe they’d forgotten about her. Maybe she was making a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe, just maybe, she was actually safe.

  It was a hope she dared to believe, because if it was true, then she could finally move forward with her life. Finally have something to hold onto without fear of it slipping through her fingers like so many grains of sand.

  It was the reason she had decided to finally branch out and put down roots, wasn’t it? The reason she decided that it was time to start looking for a place of her own. Everything had been so quiet, so uneventful, that she was finally letting down her guard. Since the day she met Blake, she’d stopped looking over her shoulder, waiting for phantom demons to appear. So now she had a decision to make. Either she could continue on living in fear, or she could choose to set aside a perceived threat and venture into a new and exciting unknown with the man before her.

  Caressing the side of his bearded face, Gabby met his steady, earnest gaze. “I-I want to believe that. I want to believe that everything is okay, that I don’t have to worry about what might happen tomorrow.” A tremulous breath shuddered out of her. “I want to know what it feels like to be safe again, to not have to wonder if today is the day that they catch up with me. I just want to feel safe,” she repeated shakily.

  Blake’s expression softened, and he leaned closer, cupping the back of her head and touching his forehead to hers. “You’re safe with me, teach. Always. I’d never let anyone get close enough to hurt you. I’d kill anyone who tried,” he said fiercely.

  God help her, but she believed him. She thought back to the first day she saw him, riding up to the school like the devil was after him, and she nearly laughed. “Shane was a biker, too,” she confided. “He loved to ride, and he loved his club. They weren’t like yours though. They got into trouble. Obviously,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Just not the kind of trouble that’d eventually landed him in a nursing home, which made her wonder more than once why he’d decided to go that route in the first place. “I thought they were harmless. Just rode for recreational purposes.” God, she’d been so naïve. “They ran a garage, jacked up the prices, sold weed on the street. Petty stuff, you know? But anyway,” she said, realizing she was getting off-track, “the point is, after everything that happened, I promised myself I’d never get involved with another motorcycle man.”

  “Did you now?” Blake’s lips twitched with amusement. “Fine job you did of avoiding the likes of me, eh?”

  “No kidding.”

  Pressing the palm of his hand to her lower back, directly over her scar, Blake tugged her closer, until their bodies were flush from chest to toe, their legs intertwined, and they were sharing one another’s breath. “For what it’s worth, if you were going to break a promise for someone, I’m glad it was for me.”

  Gabby’s heart picked up its pace and her breathing grew shallow. “Me too.”

  His brows furrowed. “Why didn’t his club give you their protection?”

  It’d never occurred to her, until she met Blake and his brothers and saw their loyalty to one another, that she’d been missing that core element in her own life. It was plain to see that they had each other’s backs, and she was certain by Blake’s intensity alone that he would lay down his life for any one of his brothers. As for Shane’s club? Well, she’d only ever met one member, and she used the term loosely. She’d actually only seen him climb off his bike in a mall parking lot, and Shane had flipped him a casual wave as they passed. She could have easily brushed it off as him simply being friendly if not for the matching cuts they wore. So, in her panic to flee, she hadn’t thought to ask for their help.

  For whatever reason, Shane had never felt it necessary to introduce her to that part of his life. Now that she saw what a close-knit family dynamic Blake’s club had, she wondered if there was a reason for his reticence, or if he was ashamed to claim her.

  Had Blake ever claimed a woman? Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Gabby had to ask. “Blake, have you…” Her words trailed off, unsure if she should continue, but she’d already gained Blake’s undivided attention.

  “Have I what? And before you ask, just know that I reserve the right to plead the fifth.” He held up his hand, a teasing smile in place, causing Gabby to laugh.

  “I just wanted to know if…if you’ve ever, you know, claimed anyone before.” Her voice dropped low at the end, almost to a whisper, but Blake heard it.

  “A woman you mean?” She nodded, biting her lip. Rolling onto his back, Blake tucked his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “I thought about it once, a long time ago. Jodi had just told me she was pregnant with Ash, and I was on top of the world. I told the guys, they threw a party at the clubhouse to celebrate.” He paused, swallowed, and Gabby sensed that whatever he was about to say came from a dark place. “We were young, but I saw no reason to wait. That night, I told them I planned to give her my property patch—”

  “A property patch?” Gabby interrupted.

  Blake’s dark eyes gleamed bright as they cut toward her and shot away. “It’s a vest some men give their women when they make their relationship official. It has the man’s name on it, so everyone knows who she belongs to, who’s responsible for her.”

  Gabby felt he
r jaw drop. “That’s disgusting.”

  “Excuse me?” Blake asked, his tone cutting. “In my world, it’s a fucking honor.”

  “It’s an honor to label someone a piece of property?”

  “There you go again, teach, making assumptions before you have all the facts.” Huffing, Blake turned his head to look at her directly. “If your man was in the life, how do you not know this already? When a brother decides to settle down and take an old lady, if he gives her his patch, that tells everyone that he’s taking complete responsibility for her. Anything she does reflects on him, and if need be, he handles the fallout. It takes a lot of trust to patch someone. We don’t take that shit lightly.”

  Gabby laid there for a moment, at a loss for words. Inside, her mind was waging another war. This time, between the idea that a woman could be reduced to being a man’s property—a freedom they’d fought hard to gain—and the knowledge of how much trust it would take for a person to take on that kind of responsibility. A kind of trust that Shane clearly hadn’t had in her, but there was a kind of beauty to it, if she looked deep enough. She recalled Blake telling her once that he planned to make her his “old lady.” Did that mean he planned to give her his patch? Overwhelmed at the prospect, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, so she decided to give it more consideration later.

  “So did you give her your patch?” she asked softly, worried she’d upset him beyond repair this time.

  Turning away to refocus on the ceiling, Blake answered curtly. “No. The brothers warned me off it. They said she wasn’t patch material, and for several reasons I won’t get into, I knew they were right. I loved her, but sometimes it just isn’t enough, you know? So we staid the path, had Ash, raised him up together, until she decided to take a different path.”

  “Why did she leave?” It was a question that she’d been wanting to ask for a long time, especially after she’d shown up at the house that night, raving like a lunatic.

  “If I had to guess? I’d say she’d had her fill of domestic life. Jodi always was a wild one. I guess she wasn’t done sowing her oats.”

  Gabby eyed Blake with caution, edging closer, and when he didn’t give her a cross look or tell her to back off, she laid her head on his chest and her arm across his stomach. Beneath her ear, his heart beat steady, his breathing even, so she figured that whatever had happened between him and Jodi wasn’t something he dwelled on anymore. Still, she ached for the hurt it must have caused…for both him and Ash. “That’s a shame. She’s missing out.”

  “Yes, she is. And I think a part of her knows it, which is why she keeps trying to come back. But she’s burned that bridge. I refuse to let her hurt Ash any more than she’s already done.”

  A fresh wave of guilt assaulted her when Gabby thought of the possible damage she could do if her past decided to rear up and make itself known. She just had to pray with everything she had that it never happened.

  NINETEEN

  “You sure are getting in late. Or early,” her mother called out from the kitchen as Gabby walked through the front door.

  Immediately, her cheeks flamed, and Gabby ducked her head in her rush toward the basement stairs and the privacy of her bedroom. Too bad she had to cut through the kitchen to get there. “Sorry I didn’t call. We watched a movie and it was late, so I decided to just stay the night.”

  Turning from the stove where, from the smell of it, she was preparing her famous cinnamon apple baked oatmeal, her mother gave her a once-over as Gabby breezed by. “I wish you would have called. I was up half the night worried.”

  Giving up the mad dash to safety, Gabby slowed her pace and turned back, propping a butt cheek on the edge of the dining table. “No, you weren’t,” she said, calling her bluff.

  Her mother winked. “You’re right, but only because I know your new beau is so fond of you. Still doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have appreciated a phone call.”

  “I promise to call next time.” Lord, did all parents have a knack of making their adult children feel like…well, children? Or was that just her own mother’s special talent?

  Clicking off the flame on the stove, her mother set to work pulling down a couple of bowls from one of the upper cabinets and filling them with oatmeal. “So there’s going to be a next time? I take it you and Blake are getting along nicely then.”

  Instantly, Gabby felt the burn of Blake’s hot hands on her thighs, the weight of his body on her imprinted on her memory, and she shivered. Remembering where she was and who she was with, she cleared her throat and her mind. “It’s still early, but we’re doing okay,” she hedged. “He’s nice.”

  Tossing her a look over her shoulder, her mother told her without the need for words what she thought about that. “Nice. So that’s what the kids are calling it nowadays. Nice,” she repeated to herself, causing a furious blush to climb up Gabby’s neck. Gathering the bowls, her mother crossed the floor and set each of them in front of a chair. “He is nice, and he really seems to like you. He has my vote of approval. Harold!” she shouted, making Gabby’s ears ring. “Breakfast’s ready! Gabby sit, eat. Fill me in on your date at Mr. Nice’s house.”

  With pursed lips, Gabby looked at the steaming bowls and pushed to her feet, already regretting the decision. “Sorry, Mom, but I’m running late. I need to run if I’m going to make it into work on time.”

  “Oh, well, okay. Maybe tomorrow then.” She tried on a smile that left Gabby feeling like a jerk, but she wasn’t lying. She really did need to jet.

  “Tomorrow,” she assured her, then grabbed a banana on her way toward the basement. “Tell Dad I said hi.”

  She hurried through a shower and threw on her favorite high-waisted navy pencil skirt with a sleeveless white blouse tucked in. Dusting on a bit of makeup, Gabby was halfway up the stairs on her way out the door when she turned back around and grabbed her overnight bag from under the bed. She stuffed her toiletries and a change of clothes inside, before hastily making her way back up the stairs and to her car. As she pulled away from the curb, she noticed a black SUV pull out onto the road behind her. A sudden bout of nervousness took root in her gut, and she kept a close watch on the vehicle. Her fear began to grow as it took each turn with her, but a few blocks from the school, it turned off and she laughed shakily, reminding herself that it was a small town and she needed to relax if she was going to start putting her life back together.

  Thankfully, traffic was good the rest of the way, and she pulled into the school parking lot with time to spare. She had just locked her overnight bag in the trunk and armed the alarm when she heard someone shouting.

  “So you’re the little bitch who’s moving in on my family!”

  It took a moment for Gabby to realize that the shrill female voice was directed at her. Turning, she saw a skeletal woman plodding her way. Thin, matted, platinum-streaked hair blew back from her face from the force of her stride, and her clothes—cut-off jean shorts and a dirty white tank top—bagged on her.

  This, Gabby thought with a mixture of shock and trepidation, must be Jodi.

  “You filthy little skank! Think you can take my man and my kid?” She stabbed a boney finger in her face.

  Gabby reared back, though not from the finger. The woman’s breath could knock a dog off the back of a gut wagon, and from her vantage it was clear that her mouthful of rotting teeth was the culprit. Holding her hands up in front of her, Gabby said, “I’m not trying to take anything.”

  “Bullllllshit! Everyone ‘round here done seen you two together. Gettin’ all cozy and shit with my husband.”

  Gabby’s brows arched into her hairline. As far as she knew, Blake was never married. She opened her mouth, intending to defend herself, but Jodi plowed right over her.

  “You think you’re something special just ‘cause you wear fancy clothes and have yourself a fancy job? You ain’t shit,” Jodi seethed. Her eyes—a pale, pukey shade of green—narrowed as she leaned in. “But I’ll tell you somethin’. You want Blake’s backwar
d ass? Take him. But over my dead body will I stand around while you try and play momma to my boy!”

  Gabby hardly had time to register the movement as Jodi’s hands pulled back and she shoved Gabby square in the chest, knocking her back into the side of her car. Her tailbone took the brunt of it, and she registered the twinge of pain at the same moment Jodi hauled off and smacked her across the face.

  Gabby acted on instinct. Lunging forward, she clutched at anything she could get her hands on—hair, clothes, skin. She scratched, slapped, shoved, and punched, determined to take a piece out of the woman who had the balls to come at her like that.

  Gabby might have been all the things Jodi had accused her of, but she sure as hell wasn’t a pushover. If she had thought she would just stand there and take her abuse, she was going to teach her a lesson she’d never forget.

  As it turned out, though, exchanging blows in the middle of an elementary school parking lot at peak operating hours was not the best decision she’d ever made.

  Although, the choice had been taken out of her hands from the start. And that’s exactly what she would tell the cops too if they showed up.

  She was tangled up in limbs, her hands fisting clumps of Jodi’s hair, both of them screaming like banshees, when Gabby felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist and begin hauling her away. When she didn’t readily let go of the pieces of Jodi she’d decided to take with her, she heard Blake’s hard-as-nails voice in her ear.

  “Ease off, teach. You got your hits in, but people are watching and it’s time to end it.”

  Her fingers complied faster than her brain. “I’m going to tear her apart,” she snarled, allowing him to take her away.

  “I’m going to see to it that you pay, puta!”

  Instantly, Gabby’s limbs went slack, the fight draining right out of her. Puta. The verbal assault was as effective as a punch to the gut, and it took her back to that night in the warehouse when she’d thought her very life had ended. She could still hear his voice…