Gravity: A Salvation Society Novel Read online

  Although Asher is like a brother to me, I find I can open up in a different way with Nora, but that had changed—I’d put the barriers up—and where I’d promised her I’d never give up on our friendship, here I am throwing it away with no explanation because I don’t understand it myself.

  “Right, I’m out,” Mark says, placing his empty beer bottle on the bar.

  “You’re going already?” I ask.

  “I have a wife that needs my attention.” He smacks Asher on the shoulder. “Call me tomorrow when you can think straight. Jackson has some business to discuss with us.”

  Asher nods and Mark heads out of the door.

  As I finish my own beer, I’m in two minds to call it a night myself, but my friend here has other ideas.

  “Look, I know you’re going through some shit today, I get it, but can you at least try and cheer the fuck up? I’ve not been home in weeks, and the desert air with no water seems more appealing than your personality right now.”

  Fuck. He’s right. He has been away for too long, and the first time we have together, I’m sitting acting like a fucking idiot.

  “Fine. I’ll be more smiley for the rest of the night.”

  “There’s a good boy. Does that mean you want another drink?”

  I look down at my beer bottle. The thought of drinking more makes my stomach twist. I’ve promised myself I will never be like her, yet with my underlying anguish, the never-ending guilt, and the desire that’s lay dormant for too long—about to turn up on my doorstep any day soon—the thought of another drink is rather appealing.

  “Yeah. Let’s get shitfaced.”

  Chapter Four

  Grayson

  The second I feel the ice-cold water splash over my face, I bolt upright, gasping for breath, and trying to work out what the hell is going on. Asher laughs at the side of me, and last night hits me like a freight train along with a headache that’s now pounding.

  Fuck.

  “Morning, princess. I’d ask if you slept okay, but I’ve been trying to wake you for the last ten minutes.”

  “So, you decided to try and drown me instead?” I snap.

  “Wanted to see if you were already dead.”

  “I feel fucking dead.” I scrub my hand down my wet face. The feel of the water on my skin is somewhat refreshing, but it’s only awakened the thirst I have. After I’d decided to get my shit together last night, I hadn’t expected it to play out the way it did. I’d drunk my body weight in alcohol and partied like it was my last chance to. The latter now becoming a reality. It was the last time.

  It got to a point last night that I couldn’t have given a fuck. All bets had been off, and the drink entered my system faster than if I’d been on an I.V.

  Looking around, I find myself on Asher’s living room floor. My shirt is off, my jeans covered in beer stains, and I’m currently only wearing one boot. The last thing I remember is…

  Shit. What is the last thing I remember?

  “What the hell happened last night?” I groan. “And where the hell is my other boot?”

  “What happened was you turned the frown upside down and ended up happier than I’ve seen you in ages. We drank. We sang. Some pretty girl gave me the best fucking sex. We drank some more. Left Linc and Rex God knows where and somehow ended up at mine. Not that I can remember that part.”

  Jesus.

  I look over at him sitting on his couch looking fresh as shit. How the hell he’s managed to look so good after the amount of alcohol we’d had is beyond me. It’s going to be a long fucking day of self-inflicted suffering.

  Laying back down, I try to ease the pounding in my head, but then as if Asher’s words have just registered, a sudden wave of panic hits my stomach. “Please tell me I never fucked anyone last night.”

  “Why, because you can’t remember her face?”

  “That and the fact I have a reputation.”

  He laughs. “And I don’t?”

  “You couldn’t give a shit about yours,” I joke, my stomach now in need of food.

  “Dude. You could hardly stand let alone get anything up. Such a fucking lightweight.”

  “Rather that than end up dead, which is what I pretty much feel like right now. How the hell do you do it?” I pause. “More importantly. Why?”

  He laughs again, standing from the couch and heading into the kitchen. “I like the fact it takes away current shit and causes intoxication that gets better with every drink. Booze is good for making you forget.”

  “It’s also great at fucking up your insides,” I groan.

  Like the ghost of Christmas past, my mother’s face appears behind my closed eyes, and I wonder if it had been the same for her. Had she drunk herself in to an oblivious state to forget? A part of me understands if she did, but the other part of me loathes her for it because while she was dousing in her pain to forget, she was hurting me every day and making me remember.

  “Coffee?” Asher shouts.

  “Strong.” I sit up, trying to get my head connecting with the rest of my body so I can move. Laying on Asher’s floor all night had been far from comfortable. The empty beer bottles at the side of me are an indication that I had clearly still been drinking when I’d got down here.

  “Jesus,” I groan, standing. The room spins a little and my stomach flops with nausea and hunger.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Beautiful.” Finding my shirt, I place it on and look around the room. “Where the fuck is my boot?”

  “It’s in here.”

  Heading into the kitchen, the smell of the bacon and coffee hits my senses, but the one thing I need more than anything is water. My mouth feels like a desert. After grabbing a glass and making a start on refreshing my body, I take a seat at Asher’s breakfast bar while he prepares us both some food.

  With Norfolk, Virginia, being home to the naval base, Asher had taken up residence here many years ago—quite a distance from the family home but close enough to be there quickly if they needed him. There was once a time I’d never thought he would leave, but after a few years in the Navy, that had all changed. He’d come home one day after a few months of being deployed and stated he needed his space. Within a few days, he was packed up and moved out. I’ve never envied my friend more than I had that day because, while he was getting on with his life, I was yet to leave home. I was unable to get away from looking after a woman who was constantly living on her nerves whilst trying to find all the answers at the bottom of a bottle.

  “So, what’s the plan for the rest of the weekend? You wanna do it all again tonight?” he asks, with a laugh.

  “Fuck no. I’m done for another year. I’m working tonight.” I take a mouthful of coffee and look out of the patio windows at the sun hitting the back yard. I need to get back to work and get my head back in the game. Taking the day off yesterday had been much needed but that being said, if I’d have worked, I wouldn’t have succumbed to the death trap that is alcohol. Working keeps me focused. It keeps me together. It keeps me from falling any deeper into my grief.

  “What’re your plans now that you’re back and have a few days off?” I ask Asher, not remembering if we have had this conversation already.

  Placing bacon and eggs on a plate in front of me, he sits opposite me. “I’m not sure. I need to touch base with Cole’s Security; Mark wants to talk about a job. But I don’t know any more than that right now. Apparently, Jackson has been in touch with him and there’s a possibility one of us will have to head out to California.”

  “And that will be you?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. Could even be Rex or Linc. Either way, I want the work.”

  “Getting bored already?” I laugh.

  “Just got to keep active,” he mumbles with a mouth full of food. “But before any of that, I need to check in on Mom and Dad.”

  Guilt tightens my chest. It’s been weeks since I last saw Fiona and Pete.

  “How is your dad?” I ask, hating that I’ve
become so distant. After Pete’s stroke, I had been there for the family, just like everyone else. What Pete has gone through hasn’t just been unfortunate, it’s been un-fucking-bearable. Seeing a man with such strength and determination suddenly have everything ripped away from him is hard to witness. I often ask myself why life would be so brutal to take out a man like that when he’s done nothing but love his family and fight for his country. There is no justice. No reason. But then, while I’d been trying to help support them, my own world had crumbled right in front of me, faster than I could control, leaving me broken, angry and lost.

  “He’s doing okay. His speech is getting better and seems happy that I’m back.”

  I can sense there is more. “But?”

  The distressed look in Asher’s eyes tells me there is something he’s not letting on. With Asher home I have been checking in on them more because it’s something I can’t escape from without questions being asked, but even then, it’s not as often as it should be. The last time I saw Pete, was only because I’d happened to be outside when he and Fiona had returned from the hospital with his new wheelchair. After a brief conversation and a promise to them that I would visit more—a promise I’ve failed to fulfill—they’d gone about their business.

  Asher stares at his empty plate for a moment. The uncertainty in his face is evident, and I hate myself for being so absorbed in my own troubles when my friend clearly has his own. He sighs heavily and stands. “Forget it. He’s doing great, so that’s all that matters, I guess.”

  As he takes my plate and places it in the sink to be washed, I feel an air of uncertainty hanging between us. Despite his cocky attitude at times, Asher has a side to him that is introverted. He’s never been one to share his feelings, and I of all people understand that of late. The difference is, we both play different roles in this world, and his job is more intense than mine will ever be. Sometimes, the little things can reignite something he’s choosing to push out of his thoughts. Not only that, I know how much he tries to follow in his dad’s footsteps and make him proud.

  “Ash, you do know you can talk to me, right? I know he’s doing well, but it can’t be easy seeing him like that at times, especially as you two have always been close.”

  “He is closer with Nora, which is expected given the fact she’s a daddy’s girl. I just…” With his back to me, his shoulders are tense and the muscles in his jaw tighten. “I just want to make him proud.”

  “And you have. You do.”

  He whispers something that sounds like ‘it’s not enough’. I want to push him on it more, but he turns around as if this conversation never happened.

  “I’m going to see them in a bit. Want a ride home?”

  Knowing he’s just cut the discussion dead, I nod, not able to do anything else but knowing there is something troubling my friend that he clearly doesn’t wish to talk about.

  An hour later and feeling a little better than I had when I first woke, we’re heading back to Chesapeake. Resting my head back against the seat, I push my ball cap down over my forehead and close my eyes, listening to the radio while Asher drives. He hasn’t spoken much since breakfast.

  I do need to start visiting the Nelsons’ again. The remorse I feel due to my lack of contact is pushing me to make the change. Pete and Fiona are like second parents to me and have been there more times than I can remember. It’s almost like I’ve turned my back on them. It needs to change.

  I might just be able to work out what Asher was meaning, too.

  But there’s just one little blue-eyed dilemma when it comes to all of this, and if I have to get anyone on my side, it’s her.

  “What the?” Asher mutters.

  Opening my eyes, I see—as clear as day as we pull up outside her house—the very woman who invades my thoughts.

  Nora.

  My Shortcake.

  My little lady.

  A rush of desire takes over my body.

  She’s sitting in the swing seat on her parent’s porch, her sexy, tan legs on full show in those denim shorts I love, and like I knew it would, all the resistance I’ve been trying to build begins to crumble, telling me that with her around more, I’m going to have to work fucking hard to not let it crash to the ground.

  “I thought she wasn’t back for another week.”

  “That’s what she told me,” Asher says with a grin. Even with his protective side that can come on a little too strong at times, he can never hide the love he has for her from me.

  Getting out of his truck, he’s already heading up the drive before I’ve even got my shit together and processed the fact that she’s home as I listen to their conversation.

  “Mom said you weren’t back for another week,” he questions her, and it’s only a matter of time before the inquisition starts.

  “Well hello to you, too, dickwad.”

  Wrapping his arms around her, Nora’s tiny body is swallowed in his thick biceps as he lifts her off her feet and spins her around.

  “Mom got her dates mixed up. So, surprise!”

  “I would have come and got you.”

  “Asher, I have a car for a reason. I was fine on my own.”

  “A car I don’t like you driving. Mom said you had to have roadside assistance the other day. Is it safe to drive? Do I need to check it out?”

  “Mom tells you too much. And it’s fine.”

  Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans, I head up the drive, apprehension heavy in my stomach, my heart now noticeably fast.

  As she steps out of her brother’s hold, her eyes dart over his shoulder, and an expression I can’t read covers her face.

  Those damn blue eyes nearly knock me off kilter.

  Her long, hot-toffee hair falls in effortless waves around her shoulders, and in those seductive shorts and a black tank that reads, ‘Don’t make me repeat myself’, her slim figure is fucking killer. I’ve hardly seen her—through no fault of my own—but standing before me now, it’s like she’s not been away at all.

  She’s beautiful.

  Absolutely fucking breath-taking.

  “Shortcake,” I smile.

  “Hey, Gray.” Her sweet voice is like warm honey and it covers my body like a satisfying blanket—a reaction I’ve not felt in a long time. “Miss me?” she asks, but I catch the hint of sarcasm in her tone.

  God yes. I’ve missed her.

  “Of course.”

  She looks back at Asher. “You look like shit. You both do.”

  “Yeah,” Asher chuckles. “I made Gray get stupid drunk with me last night.”

  Her eyes dart from his to mine and concern coats her ocean blues. “But you hardly drink.”

  I want to say I hardly do anything anymore other than work. I want to say that times have changed. I want to say that I can’t stop fucking thinking about her, but what good will that do? So, I reply with the only true answer I have. “It just happened.”

  Stepping closer, she looks at me, and I know she’s trying to read me—she’s always been damn good at that—but I’m hoping my recent absence has enabled me to hide my desire for her. If she knew what I’m carrying in my heart right now—not just for her but the guilt I hold—it will only blow up in my face.

  All I see when I look at her is hurt. I’ve hurt her, and it fucking crushes me.

  “Do I get a hug from my little lady?” I ask. I open my arms out hoping she will come to me when all I really deserve from her right now is a fucking slap. I can sense her reluctance, but she steps into my embrace regardless and the electricity that races through my body is undeniable. Tingles cover me from head to toe from her touch, and her proximity elicits a longing I can’t comprehend. It’s right here that I know I’ve lost whatever battle I’ve started with myself when it comes to her.

  As her arms circle my waist, I nuzzle my face into her hair and secretly hope that this little reunion will be enough and that no questions will be asked, but the words she whispers next spark something deep inside, causing my mi
nd to race with all the possibilities—all the things that can never be—and memories of a past I know she’s going to make me relive.

  And I don’t think I want that.

  “I’m home, Grayson.”

  Chapter Five

  Nora

  He looks tired. Not just from a night of too much drinking but an exhaustion that suggests he’s been struggling more than he’s willing to admit. The man who once had a clean-shaven jaw and bright blue eyes has now become one with a five o’clock shadow and a look of anguish covering his features. His smile doesn’t make his eyes sparkle like I remember. That being said, he’s still as intoxicating as ever, and being in his strong arms somehow signifies the fact that I’m home.

  Closing my eyes, I listen to his heartbeat, getting lost in the embrace I’ve craved for too long. Although his avoidance has been intermittent, and other times it’s often felt deliberate, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. But with everything that he has been through, I’m willing to push that aside. Except, when he steps out of my hold and refrains from giving me eye contact, I suddenly feel cold.

  “So, you boys have been out living the Virginia life then?” I ask Asher, needing to break the unease that’s just hit.

  “Yeah. I tried to get Gray to relax a little,” he replies. “Only took him a few whiskeys and about four hours of persuasion.”

  “I told you I wasn’t in the mood. And the way I’m feeling right now, I wish I never changed my mind.”

  “Pussy,” Asher snorts.

  Our attention is brought to Mom pulling up in the drive. She’s been on a long shift at work so will no doubt head off to bed once she’s had something to eat.

  “Ah, my boys are back,” she beams, heading toward us. “Are you here for breakfast?”

  “Gray and I have already eaten, but if there’re pancakes going, I wouldn’t say no.”

  “Well, why doesn’t that surprise me? You’ve always been such a big eater.” She kisses my brother on the cheek and turns to Grayson. With a smile, she grabs hold of his arms and studies him for a moment, and I wonder if she, too, can see the change in him. “Grayson, my dear boy. It’s great to see you.”