Gravity: A Salvation Society Novel Read online

  Gravity

  K.L. Jessop

  GRAVITY

  First Edition.

  Copyright © 2020 All rights reserved.

  K.L. JESSOP

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination. Thank you for respecting the hard work and creativity of this author.

  Cover Designer: Najla Qamber

  Editor: Schmidt’s Author Services.

  Proof readers: Scarlet Le Clair.

  Proofreading By Mich.

  To anyone who may need strength and love. You’ve got this.

  Contents

  Letter to Reader

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  The Salvation Society

  Acknowledgments

  Books by K.L. Jessop.

  About the Author

  Letter to Reader

  Dear reader,

  First, I’d just like to say what an honor it has been writing in this world. I love Corinne Michaels’ Salvation series, and when I saw that she had opened her world to other authors, I knew I had to click the link and submit my interest. When I got the confirmation to say I was accepted, that for me was when the pressure started, and after numerous book releases, I questioned if I was good enough to participate in a world as big as the Salvation series. However, I pushed through my doubts and I can honestly say Gravity is one of my favorite of all the books I have written.

  I wanted to bring something a little different to the Salvation society, and so I have introduced two brand new characters. I adore Grayson and Nora, and I hope you enjoy the rollercoaster of their emotional journey as much as I did writing it. With that said, it wouldn’t be a Salvation book without some of our favorite’s from Corinne’s series. After reading Defenseless, I fell in love with a certain Mark Dixon. I knew he had to be a part of my story. Loving his charm and humor, I hope I have done his character justice along with Charlie and their daughter Makenna.

  Happy reading, and thank you for taking a chance with my story. I really hope you enjoy it.

  K.L. Jessop

  Prologue

  Grayson

  As I lay in the darkness of the Nelson’s living room, I reflect on the day I’ve had and how shit my life has drastically turned out when all I’ve ever done is be myself and protect those I love. For so long, I’ve been planning to start living on my own, tick that last box of independence and escape from the childhood home—fly the nest, like we all dream of doing. Yet once again, the unpredictability of my father has crushed that, along with everything else. It had been an ordinary day, the sun was out, my mom had been happy and then he’d come home, and everything changed. When Dad’s mood changes, so do the lives of those he spends time with. We never know what makes him switch, but when I step in to protect my mother, it angers him more, and he takes what he wants with no regret. I’d once looked up to him. I’d once respected him. I’d once wanted to become the man he was and make him proud. But nothing makes me sicker than seeing a man raise his fist to a woman. And that man doesn’t like me to protect her.

  So, here I lay once again because his actions have torn my world apart at the age of twenty-two, my mom leaving a gaping hole in my heart when she fell into the path of his sweet talk and apologies, deciding to go back to him. Again.

  Fucking bastard.

  Closing my eyes, I try to get some sleep, but the cries of my mother are all I can hear. Her pleads. Her heartbreak. Her fucking apology she had no reason to be voicing. I’ve been staying at the Nelson’s house for the last few hours, which is ridiculous as my own house is right next door. With Asher having been my best friend since we were kids, this house—and the Nelsons—have been my second home and family. When Dad left and Mom said she needed some time alone, I came here. I don’t know what I would have done without them today.

  As I lay in the silence and watch the shadows on the wall from the moon and trees outside, my attention is soon shifted to the pad of little feet coming down the stairs. I count her steps, and when I get to twelve, I know she’s paused, wondering whether to come any further, but the confidence in her soon has her creeping into the living room. I can sense her tiny body at the foot of the couch, hear her shallow breathing as she stands like a statue, but it’s the uncertainty in it that has me prising my eyes open.

  "Shortcake. What are you doing out of bed? It’s past mid-night," I ask Nora, Asher’s kid sister. She’s not long turned seven and is smaller than most kids her age.

  "I had a bad dream,” she whispers with a sniffle, trying to hide the upset in her voice. Her head is bowed, and I can see she is biting on her bottom lip. Her hands grip on to the hem of her pajamas top that’s covered in tropical fish.

  Sitting up, I dip my head to catch her eyes, secretly thanking her for breaking the chaos that has taken over my mind. "Want to talk about it?"

  "Not really. I just came to find Scuttle. I thought he was in my bed."

  Scuttle is the soft turtle I bought for her fifth birthday. Two years later, and the little thing has hardly left her side. The girl is mad about the ocean and the life that lives in the coral reef.

  I nod my head to the other couch, knowing that’s where I’d seen him last. "Try over there."

  Finding her friend, she picks him up, grins, and tucks it under her arm. "Thank you, Grayson."

  "No problem. Now go back to bed; you’ll be tired tomorrow.”

  When she hesitates at the door, I realize she is stalling. Nora often has sleepless nights—she’s had them ever since I can remember—and they only occur when her dad has been deployed. Her hesitation tells me that tonight is one of those times.

  "Hey, Shortcake,” I say quietly, not wanting to wake her mother or brother. If Asher knew she was down here, he'd send her straight to bed without asking her what was wrong. “You wanna grab some milk and cookies?”

  I see her grin widen in the moonlight, and it brings a smile to my face. Pushing back the blanket, I clench my teeth to hide the pain of my ribs as I head to the kitchen to get us some mid-night snacks. By the time I’ve returned, she’s made herself comfortable on the couch, right where I had been lying.

  “Here you go,” I murmur, sitting beside her.

  All you can hear in the silence is crunching as she nibbles on her cookies, dancing her feet over the end of the couch as her short legs can’t reach the floor.

  “Momma will be mad if she knew I had cookies,” she whispers. “I already brushed my teeth.” Her big blue eyes shine bright against the moonlight, a wash of worry claiming her featur
es.

  “Secret’s safe with me, Shortcake.”

  “Momma also said we should never keep secrets.”

  I wince as a soft chuckle leaves me, knowing I’ve heard her mother say that countless times before. “She’s right. But I think we are okay with this one.”

  She beams, finishing the rest of her cookie. Licking her fingers clean, the pop sounds she makes cause me to smile.

  Who would have thought a glass of milk and cookies would make me forget all my troubles? Then again, there is something about Nora that makes you forget everything for a while when she is in your presence.

  "Are you sad today?” she asks, completely out of the blue. Her question rumbles something deeper inside of me, and I think back to what had played out earlier at home. It had been a regular day, but even our regular days have us walking on eggshells, wondering when the next hit is going to come. So yes, I’m really fucking feeling it at the moment.

  "Yeah. I'm still a little sad."

  “Because you got into a fight?” she whispers. As a child, Nora doesn’t know of my life at home: she just knows that sometimes I need down time, and this is the place I get it. But with a cut eyebrow, a swollen lip, and a throbbing radiating in my chest, it’s evident I’m injured, and she can see what’s happened.

  “Yeah. Because I got into a fight.”

  Her face pales with concern, her eyes filling with tears as she whispers. “But you are going to be okay?”

  Reaching out, I tuck her hair behind her ear. “Can you remember that time you fell off your bike, cutting your knees, and it took a while to heal?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, that is what it’s like with me. I’m going to be okay; I’m just going to look a little bruised for a while.”

  “That would make me sad, too.”

  I smile.

  Sitting forward to place her empty glass on the coffee table, Nora turns to face me, the corners of her mouth are covered in chocolate, a white moustache of milk on her top lip. A cute look of curiosity and innocence spreads across her face. "Momma always says that when someone is sad, all they need to make them better is a cuddle. Do you need a cuddle, Grayson?"

  My mouth tugs with her cuteness. This little girl is incredible. I remember the day she was born—this tiny little bundle wrapped in pink had been a shock to everyone. Her brother, from that moment he held her, promised his parents he'd protect her forever and I vowed to do the same. Yet here she is, trying to comfort me and fix my shitty life with a simple cuddle. Something tells me, though, that she needs the comfort of the cuddle as much as I do as her nightmare is no doubt still very much in her mind.

  "I'd love a cuddle."

  She beams, and scooting over, she snuggles beside me on the couch, her arm circling my stomach lightly, Scuttle resting between us. Her tiny frame molds against mine and I place my arm around her shoulders. Soon enough, Nora’s breathing becomes shallow, her anxious state now fading, so I lie back, holding her against me and covering us both with the blanket.

  “Grayson,” she whispers, breaking the silence.

  “Yeah?”

  “I dreamt that my daddy died.”

  The rawness of her words hit hard. The discomfort rips through my heart from her little confession. How the fuck do I reply to that? I can’t say it will never happen and that he will never leave her because the man works in the Navy—he’s on the frontline for Christ’s sake—and everybody dies eventually.

  I do the only thing that feels right, and pulling her closer, I kiss the top of her head and look down at those big eyes full of apprehension that stare back at me.

  “So, it’s not just me that needed this cuddle after all?”

  She smiles sadly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize,” I lift her chin, needing her to know she has nothing to be sorry about. “Never apologize for being sad, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good girl,” I whisper. “Now, sleep time. Time to dream about sea turtles and pretty fish.”

  When she closes her eyes, I take the pad of my forefinger and gently trace it down her nose, repeating the movement, knowing it always helps her to fall asleep.

  “Grayson.”

  I smile to myself, wondering if she will ever nod off or if I’m in for a night of childlike talk. “Yeah?”

  “Can you promise me something?”

  “What?” I ask, still stroking her nose, her eyes still closed.

  “I know I’m just a kid but… no matter what, promise you will always be my friend. Forever and ever.”

  My mom always told me never to make promises because you can’t always keep them. But there is something about this girl that changes everything I’ve been taught. So, I reply with a truth that I hold close to my heart and a promise that I know will never be broken.

  “Shortcake, you are the only little lady in my life. You’re stuck with me, forever.”

  Chapter One

  Nora

  Fifteen years later…

  As I pull up in the driveway of my home, I turn off the ignition and take a moment to let my mind readjust to being back. These past four years have been both a blur and an uphill climb in my mind, and there has been a questionable amount of time where I’ve wondered how I’ve managed to get through it all.

  The day I received the letter to say that I had got into Wesleyan College to pursue my dream—to study Marine biology and Oceanology—was the best day of my life. I remember it like yesterday, and I’m so thankful that I have had that opportunity. But the years that followed were a turbulence, and there were a few times where I wanted nothing more than to give up as I felt my body crumbling beneath me.

  If it hadn’t been for my best friend, Makenna, in those times, I would have. Her weekly visits and regular phone calls where all that kept me going when my parents were too busy to check in with everything else going on. But here I am now, a college graduate with a degree, waiting on what’s to come.

  You never expect the unfortunate to happen to you, but within the space of two years, that cloud of unlucky didn’t just strike our family but it took out the boy next door, too. Two households were torn apart for completely different reasons, and where ours has found a way to manage and cope with the dramatic change, I fear that Grayson remains in a silent world of his own grief.

  Glancing across to his driveway, I latch on to the swing that’s hanging from the tree on his front lawn. Now battered and worn, that swing holds so many memories of the summers he used to push me on it—the summers when I would skip out of my house at just a meagre age and demand him to hang out with me instead of my brother. Of course, that never happened because of the fifteen-year age gap, but he never failed to give me his time in one way or another. If my brother, Asher, needed him for something, Grayson would tell him to wait five more minutes because he’d promised me his time.

  Pushing me on his swing turned in to him helping Dad build me a tree house and that led to him taking me to Duck Donuts every Saturday morning before we walked along Virginia Beach with my brother. But in the last two years, since I’ve been at college, Grayson has gradually put an invisible wedge in our friendship, and I don’t know why. The texts have fizzled out, and when I’d come home for breaks, he was hardly around. I can count on both hands the times I’ve seen him in the last twenty-four months. Each time I left got harder as my heart ached more for him in a way that I’ve been secretly battling for years.

  A loud squeal catches my attention, and I look up to find my mom dancing around the front porch in excitement, waving at me like she hasn’t seen me for months. But what has my smile growing wider and me heading out to greet her is the man who follows her out in his wheelchair, lifting his arm up in an attempt to wave.

  “Hey, guys!” I beam, heading up the steps and throwing my arms around Mom in a tight squeeze.

  “Nora, baby. How was the drive? Did you manage it okay?” Her motherly worry is constant, and I swear she forgets at times that twenty-two is a
big enough number for me to be able to look after myself.

  “Mom, campus is only an hour away. It’s hardly a long drive.”

  People around here have often passed comments about how I decided to stay on campus for four years while my home was only a short drive away, but there is only one explanation for that, and it comes in the form of my brother. With the ten-year age gap, and him being a former SEAL, Asher is the type of guy who would be satisfied if I remained single for the rest of eternity. He’d no doubt be over-joyed if I announced that I wanted to join a convent. So, if I wanted to breathe and experience a life outside of his protective grip, campus was my only escape, which at times wasn’t easy because every guy that walked the grounds of Wesleyan college knew who I belong to.

  “No, but the dark circles under your eyes tell me you haven’t been sleeping.”

  “I haven’t been sleeping because I’ve had three weeks of less studying and more drinking.”

  Her loud gasp has my dad chuckling at the side of her, and I move my attention to him. A pang of emotion unexpectedly hits my chest as he looks up at me, and I can’t control the tears that sting my eyes. He seems to have lost more weight since I last saw him. His collarbones are more prominent than they have ever been, and his head now rests more to the side as he can’t support it when he gets too tired. Even though his appearance makes my stomach tighten with dread, he still has that sparkle shining bright. Leaning down, I hug him tight. His arms hold me as best as they can, his weak grip reminding of how much he’s suffered, yet how lucky he is to still be alive.