Gravity: A Salvation Society Novel Read online

  Dad nods, and I let him rest for a few minutes before I quiz him again. Grayson has always been a hard worker, but with no reason to come home now, it’s clear he drowns himself in work. That’s something I’ve learnt he does when things are on his mind.

  "You. Can… Change. Th-that."

  I frown. “By making him work less?”

  He nods.

  “How?”

  “Fun.”

  I smile. Thinking about all the times we used to have each other laughing with all the stupid stuff we’d do. But I’m not that little girl anymore who used to jump on his back without warning or annoy him because I was just his friends kid sister.

  “He hardly texts me anymore, Pop,” I say, sadness in my voice. "Somehow, I highly doubt he'd want to hang out with me. Besides, Asher can sort him out."

  He shakes his head. “Not… Ash. You.” He holds my stare, and the look in his eyes tells me he’s serious. If there was anyone who could get Grayson to do something when Asher was away it was always me. He’s always looked out for me, but not in a way that is suffocating.

  He’s never tried stopping me from going out with friends, just telling me to be careful. He hasn’t ever told me not to do things, merely advising me how I should go about them in a different way in order to be safe.

  But what I like about him the most is that even though he’s protective, he has always been fun to be around, and because of that, I grew to appreciate him as a person while my heart grew to want him. The very thought of seeing him again already has my heart racing and my stomach knotted with anxiety.

  Chapter Three

  Grayson

  “Another drink?” Asher asks, pointing at my glass.

  I shake my head, throwing back the small shot of whiskey I don’t even want, and look out across the bar. It’s a typical Friday night in Hot Tuna, and everyone has once again crawled out of their habitats and reunited like they’ve not seen each other in months. Men of all shapes, sizes, and tattoos gather in groups hunting for prey while pretty girls swarm around them, waiting for one to take a bite.

  A fusion of heels and cleavage. A hotspot of sexual tension and surprises.

  Peak season in Virginia Beach is like a coastal version of New York City. From the simplest of things like history museums, to vibrant night life, this place never sleeps. It’s an oceanfront of culture at its finest. Embedded in golden sands, clear waters, and a sky so blue, it’s a dreamland to those on vacation during the day. However, fast forward a few hours, and the buzz you get from the boardwalk alone is like a second heartbeat.

  And this place is no different.

  Located just offshore from Chesapeake beach, my little bar and grill is serene by day but a different fucking story once the sun goes down. Decorated with tables, a small dancefloor and fire pits outside, it’s a magnet for hot girls and Navy SEALs.

  I love it. It’s my place of business that I’ve worked damn fucking hard for, but more importantly—and secretly—it’s the only thing that keeps my heart racing when I could easily hide in the shadows and never come out for air. Yet tonight, those shadows have shamefully taken over, and I’ve succumbed to the poison that is whiskey, swallowing the shit like a bitter pill.

  A tribute to the past.

  A memory of what is no longer here.

  A reminder of how little I meant to her.

  When you look at the pattern that has become my life in the last couple of years, it’s nothing but a contradiction yet one I don’t wish to walk away from either. Alcohol has ripped through my family like a cancer, yet here I am, promoting the damn stuff and sitting back to watch everyone get high on it.

  It’s days like today when I have to fight the urge to punch the mirror as the reflection of the young boy looking back at me asks me what went wrong—asks me why I didn’t try harder to fix it. To fix her. Meanwhile, the man who stands on the other side is crippled with guilt and uncertainty, loathing the parts of his life that are darkened. It’s days like this that I want to hide away. It’s days like this that I wish my mom was still here. But it’s nights like tonight that I dislike because, although I love this little bar, I’m the reason these people are coating their veins in liquor, killing their livers.

  And here I am nursing a fucking whiskey myself.

  Contradictive bastard.

  “You boys want a refill?” Lacy, one of the girls who works in my club, asks. She’s been hanging around us tonight like a bee in a honey jar, and it’s all because my friend Asher here has brought his other guys—Linc and Rex—out to play. With muscles galore to ogle at, the woman is in her fucking element.

  “No, I’m good,” I say, holding my glass up to show I’m not done.

  “We’ll have another beer. And I’ll have a whiskey chaser. Get one for yourself.” Asher winks at her, drawing her onto his path of seduction that she will easily stroll down in seconds. Thirty-two years of friendship with this guy and he hasn’t changed. The day he and his parents moved in next door, he was five years old, and even at that age he was a cocky little fucker.

  “Gray, you sure the lovely Lacy here can’t tempt you with another?” Rex asks.

  “I’m good for the minute.”

  He raises a brow at me, and if it weren’t for the fact his biceps are twice the size of mine, I’d knock the fucker out. Why don’t people understand that I’m not in the mood?

  The moment Lacy heads off to get Asher’s order, he turns to me and smacks me on the shoulder. “All right, serious question. When was the last time you got laid? Because she so wants to ride your dick, and you keep blanking her.”

  “I’m not fucking her, or anyone else tonight.”

  “But it’s your night off, and she’s clearly after some lovin’.” Asher grins. Every female in this bar is after the same thing. There’s something about a SEAL that gets the ladies’ temperatures rising. Being one himself, and built like a tank, Asher often has women falling at his feet.

  “Then you fuck her.”

  “Already have. Twice,” he says smugly.

  “And you’re willing to share her around like she’s a piece of candy?” I shake my head and let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know if I should be proud of you or fucking ashamed.”

  “Least I’m gettin’ some.”

  “I’m getting plenty, thanks,” I lie.

  “My money’s on the brunette in the red dress.” Rex smirks, looking across the bar. “Look at the tits on her.”

  “I’m more of a Lacy type of woman,” Asher comments, just as she returns with his order.

  For once, I’m sitting the other side of the bar, trying to absorb the atmosphere and enjoy the band that is playing tonight, and because of that, Lacy sees this as an opportunity to get in my pants like she does with every other guy who passes through. Lacy is a good worker—a whirlwind with attitude—but the girl loves male attention too much. I see what goes on in my bar at night, and if I don’t see it personally, the CCTV shows me.

  My only interest comes in the form of a woman who is a fantasy that I have to either fuck out of my system with other women or jerk off to in the shower, imagining her mouth around my cock.

  She is a fantasy and a line I can’t cross because of who she belongs to.

  “Well, if it isn’t my two favorite ladies,”

  I grin at the familiar voice coming up behind us. Turning, I find a good friend of ours, Mark Dixon looking perky as ever. With two full tattoo sleeves and a physique that can and does bring any woman to her knees, Mark stands with a shit-eating grin on his face like he’s finally been allowed out to play.

  “Do you like your balls? Because if your wife knew you were in here, she’d shoot the fuckers off,” I say.

  “He’s right, Twilight,” Asher replies, giving him a fist pump. “I wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of Charlie.”

  “She loves my balls too much to get rid of them.”

  Now greeting me, Mark squeezes my shoulder before slapping my back. “Gray, you’re on
the wrong side tonight, man. What gives?”

  “I took the night off so I could hold Asher’s hand. Didn’t want him to feel lonely.”

  “Ha. You’re more miserable than I am tonight, dickhead.” Asher smirks.

  “That’s ‘cause your ugly face is back in town,” I joke.

  “And here I was thinking you missed me when I was away.”

  “Why the fuck would he miss you?” Mark joins in. “I have to work with your stupid ass and I certainly don’t miss you when you’re gone.”

  I laugh. Starting to feel the whiskey relax the tension in my body.

  Asher shakes his head. “Don’t fucking start, Twilight.”

  “Not to mention Rex and Linc,” Mark grins, “Y’all a bunch of toddlers together. Makes me fucking sick.”

  Asher turns, raising a brow with a comical look on his face. “Sorry, Daddy.”

  “Shut up and get me a drink.”

  I laugh at the pair of them. Now working for Cole Security Forces alongside Mark, Asher is often away. Although Coles is based here in Virginia, they also have a location in California, and whatever the job, some often take them further afield—their last big job being in Iraq. But that’s all I know. I know how things work in the forces; I grew up around it with my father being in the military as well as Asher’s dad Pete doing his duty. I know bad shit happens and lives are stolen. I know Pete often came home a little more lost after each time he was deployed. But with Asher, to say we are close, I’ve noticed over the last couple years he keeps his work life private more than he used to. He doesn’t like to talk of the things he’s witnessed, and I get that, but when it comes to him fighting for our country, his enemies are close, and his secrets are even more guarded.

  “How you doing, man?” Mark questions, pointing to my glass as he leans against the bar, knowing this isn’t my usual choice. “Bad day?”

  “Something like that.” Today would have been my mother’s birthday. To say the last two years haven’t been easy is an understatement. Granted, my life hasn’t been a bed of fucking roses, but since her death each year has got harder, and for some reason, more frustrating. Even though I know the reasons behind her death, I still need answers—answers to questions I try to bury so deep, causing me to hate her more. “So, what brings you here without the lovely Charlie tonight?”

  “I’m looking for Cullen. Have you seen him?”

  “Not in a while.”

  “That boy is a bloody nightmare. Totally takes after his mother. Drink?”

  My gut is telling me no, but I nod in agreement, this time changing my choice. “Beer, please.”

  Lacy is back the second Asher signals for service, and her eyes dart from his to Mark. The look in her emerald eyes is just as dreamy as it was when she was eye-fucking me earlier. If she knew of Mark’s wife, she would be running. Years of being a CIA operative, Charlie is not a woman to mess with. The guy next to me is no different. With my father’s work background and Mark being a former SEAL himself, our paths have crossed numerous times over the years, and I’ve grown to respect this man as if he was my blood brother. Both he and Charlie have been there for me when I’ve needed support. The experience and drive that the Dixons have in terms of work ethic and the strength in their personalities, means the pair bring an explosive force to their marriage and relationship, and it’s one I admire greatly.

  “So wanna talk about it?” Mark questions. The concern in his voice is enough to make me want to get my shit together yet get wasted at the same time.

  I shake my head, staring down at the bar that goes full circle in the center of the room.

  “Nothing to talk about. It’s just that time of year where I’ve jumped on the pity party bus waiting for the right stop to get off.” Losing someone at any age is hard, but you would think that, being thirty-seven, I’d understand how life works a little more. However, the death of my mother has left me with nothing but a big fucking hole in my heart and guilt that I’m constantly drowning in.

  “It would have been Mom’s birthday today,” I say, knocking back a mouthful of beer that’s just been placed in front of me.

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Gray. I didn’t realize.”

  “It’s all right. I don’t really talk about her much anymore.” I don’t talk about her because there’s nothing to say.

  “So, your pity party involves trying to drink it out of your system?”

  “That’s Asher’s theory.” I shrug. “Not so sure it’s working, though.”

  “It does get easier,” Mark says, trying to provide me some reassurance.

  “Then I can’t fucking wait for when it does.”

  As silence falls between us, the roar of the bar picks up. Guys and girls cheer as the faces of the band members that entertain us light up in amusement. Two girls in the center of the makeshift dance floor are grinding so hard and kissing the shit out of each other it’s like a fucking porn movie taking place.

  Just a regular Friday night.

  “My God, I’d forgotten how much I love this place,” Mark sighs, grinning. “I’ve missed it.”

  “This place is a fucking honey trap.”

  “I get hard just walking through the door,” Asher says.

  “You get hard looking at your own hand.” Mark chuckles, drinking his beer.

  “Fuck you, Twilight.”

  Another roar takes place along with whistles and chanting as the girls turn around and find the next victim they want to rub against, throwing their heads back and laughing while guys gather close as if they are waiting in line.

  Anyone who may have looked in and ordinarily been offended about this sort of thing have now learned to carry on walking. There is not a night that goes by where something like this is not going on. What the girls are doing is harmless, and if it has people screaming the place down and wanting more while the cash collects nicely, then what more can I ask for?

  “You pretty boys still okay here?” Lacy’s voice cuts through my thoughts. Her cleavage seems to be more exposed than it was thirty minutes ago as she leans across the bar pouting her ruby reds.

  “We’re good, Lace. Thanks.”

  She keeps her attention on Mark. “And you, sexy, are—”

  “Married,” I add.

  Like the word has made her ears bleed, Lacy’s expression changes and she steps back, only to take one toward me. I inwardly curse when she leans across the bar, those dreamy eyes looking at me. “Gray, you seem a little agitated tonight. Is everything all right?”

  “Reckon he could do with a little help to ease his tension, sweet girl.”

  I glare at Asher. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  This time, she reaches out and lightly drags her fingertips over my forearm. The scent of her cheap perfume attacks my senses.

  “Maybe you need a good woman to ease your tension.”

  I’m tempted to ask if she knows of any, but I’m not that much of an asshole. Instead, I lean forward, keeping my voice low. “Lace, I suggest you go serve people that actually want a drink. Just because I’m this side of the bar doesn’t mean I’m not watching my staff.”

  With a roll of her eyes, she goes to head off, but Asher calls her back, ordering another drink when he hasn’t even finished his other two.

  Glancing up, I find Mark looking at me with a cocked brow, grinning.

  “She’s been trying to get in my pants since the day I hired her,” I sigh. “Usually, her flirtatious behavior wouldn’t bother me.”

  “She’s a pretty woman.”

  “And a great little worker. She’s just picked the wrong day.” I tug back my beer as Asher comes to stand between us.

  “Why not just fuck her and get it over with?” he states.

  “Because I think I’d rather chew my own ball sack.”

  Truth is, I loathe feeling like this. I’m not one to treat people like shit because I witnessed that on too many occasions growing up. My mother raised me right—taught me to value those around me—yet later on in h
er life those values she’d taught me suddenly meant fuck all to her. I’m not normally an asshole, but I can’t remember the last time I felt good inside either.

  “Seriously, though, it’s about time you got some loving in your life.”

  “Jesus, since when did you turn into a relationship therapist?”

  “We’re just looking out for your welfare,” Asher grins, throwing back his whiskey.

  “My welfare is great thanks. Although, yours might not be if you carry on.”

  “All I’m saying, granddad, is that you need to get out of this slump you’re in.”

  “And if you’d have listened when you originally asked, I said I wasn’t in the fucking mood.”

  “Christ,” Mark chuckles. “Listening to you two is like listening to Charlie and Makenna when they’re on a hormone rage.”

  Both Asher and I laugh as I reply, “Didn’t you know entertainment night had been moved to Fridays.”

  “You haven’t seen a hormone rage until you’ve seen Nora,” Asher snorts. “The girl is like a loaded sniper when she verbally lashes out.”

  A hot tingle chases down my spine at the mention of her name, and like always, my mind wanders back to the very girl that holds my forbidden dreams. With skin so pure and eyes so blue, I can’t push her out of my thoughts even if I try.

  Nora Nelson.

  The one I dream of having but the one I know that I can’t.

  God, I’ve missed her blue eyes.

  Having her head off to college should have been the greatest distraction given the fact she’s off limits—only it wasn’t. The distraction had turned to a longing I couldn’t comprehend, and now the distance between us is about to close with her arrival home imminent.

  With her going away, I’d decided it best to take a step back: not only had I been fighting my attraction toward her, but I’d not wanted to burden her with my struggles or distract her from her studies. As time had gone by, I hadn’t even needed to try. I’d become consumed by the grief of my mother and begun focusing on the one thing that I could control: work. And although each time Nora was on college breaks it had got easier to avoid her, it had also become harder and harder for me to watch her walk away.