Love on the Rise: Book Two of The Against All Odds Series

by Gemini Jensen

  Book Two of the Against All Odds Series

  gemini jensen

  Love on the Rise

  Copyright © 2018 by Gemini Jensen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any way, including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photo-copying, recording or any other means without the explicit permission of the author, except for brief quotations of the book when writing a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, brands (unless otherwise noted), places, incidents and even facts are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people—alive or dead—is completely coincidental.

  All song titles and lyrics in this book are property of the copyright owners, and are in no way linked to the author.

  This book is for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Designer:

  Lee Ching, Undercover Designs

  Editor:

  Kristen, Your Editing Lounge

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A Note From The Author

  Acknowledgments

  Titles by Gemini Jensen

  About Gemini

  Dedication

  For my kids—my life-changing, amazing humans who push me to reach for the stars and to strive to be a better person. (And I hope you never read this book lol.)

  Prologue

  Gray

  Three years ago…

  I SLIDE THE seat of the Wrangler back a few inches to stretch my legs. Asheville is the closest city to Central Valley, and it may be only an hour away, but the winding backroads I took to get here resulted in one hell of a rough ride.

  Irritated, I check the clock for the tenth time. The bright neon numbers have only changed by one increment from the last time I looked. This guy is late to our first business meeting; not exactly a favorable impression in regards to being professional.

  Just when I’m dangling from my last thread of patience, reaching for the gearshift to throw the Jeep in reverse and find someone else to work with, I notice a dark colored sedan pull up a few spaces over. My eyes flick back to the neon numbers, yet again. If this is him, he’s a full thirty minutes late.

  The driver-side door pops open, producing a short and stocky man who could fit the bill for being my guy. He’s sporting a pair of dress slacks paired with a polo shirt that has an embroidered emblem at the breast; everything about his attire screams off-duty or recently retired cop, which would make sense because he’s only in his mid-forties, if I had to guess. Sunlight gleams off his shiny head, the only hair being a sparse gray wisp above each ear. In a few more years he could retire from this profession and become the new spokesperson for Mr. Clean.

  Retrieving a briefcase from behind his seat, he begins scanning the parking lot until his eyes finally land on my Jeep. Hurriedly, he shuffles in my direction, sliding in the passenger side once he reaches the vehicle.

  “Jay Lynch.” He holds out his hand for me to shake.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Ted.” I take his hand and squeeze it. I made a conscious decision to pay him in all cash and withhold my real name just in case he’s the type of man who can be bought for a higher price. The task I’m having him complete is potentially dangerous, particularly if the information gets into the hands of the wrong people. I don’t want this coming back on me, or even worse, my family, so if I get any vibes he’s not buying into my persona, I’ll need to be mindful of how I proceed—all the way down to the direction I leave the parking lot, making sure he can’t get my plate number and use it to look me up.

  Luckily, so far, he isn’t giving me any such vibe and cuts straight to the main focus. “So, what do you have for me to go on in the investigation? Tell me everything you know.”

  I huff out a frustrated breath and pull all the information Valley has given me the past few months from my memory bank. It’s not like I could write things down, or else my prying sister might find it. The less Lyra knows about V’s past, the better.

  “Well, it’s not too much, buddy. I have a first name and an alias that he’s known as. And as far as a place to start, I don’t even have an exact location, just that he lives in Jersey,” I admit, hoping it’s at least enough to get the ball rolling. I mean, he’s a private investigator and I’m willing to pay him quite a bit of the money left to me after Mom’s death. If he wants paper, he’ll dig something up.

  “Okay. Tell me what you do know,” he prompts, pulling out a notepad and a fancy fountain pen with his initials and credentials engraved into the wood.

  “His first name is Dominic. He has at least one brother. I know he’s pretty well off and owns a business, or probably more than one, but is also involved in some shady stuff too. Although, specifically, I’m not sure what. It’s also likely whatever illegal shit he’s involved in won’t be easily traced back to him. He has a sort of notoriety; people often refer to him as ‘The Dom of Jersey,’ or ‘The Jersey Dom’ or something along those lines. That’s about the extent of my knowledge on the matter.” Glancing over to make sure Jay is paying attention, I find he’s scribbling furiously, a manic chicken scratch that I have no idea how he’s going to decipher later on.

  His eyes meet mine, narrowing in assessment when he retracts pen from paper. “And what exactly is your interest in this Dominic character?”

  Cracking my knuckles and then clearing my throat, I say, “I’d rather keep that confidential if you don’t mind.”

  He nods, seemingly used to this type of response from his clients.

  “Well, my boy, I have to say, you weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t have much to go on.”

  My already wavering hope takes a drastic plummet at his words. Damn it.

  “But,” he adds, seeming to notice the worry etched on my forehead, “I’ve had much less to go on in other cases and was still able to get what was needed. So, don’t worry too much. The fact that he has business dealings on both sides of the fence, and has enough notoriety that he even has an alias name, is good news. That opens up more avenues for us.”

  He snaps his notebook shut, slipping his fancy pen back into his breast-pocket.

  “I’ll be in touch wh
en I have something, but the fact that this investigation goes out of state and might actually require me to go knocking on doors and asking questions myself…on top of the fact that this guy is involved in illegal stuff…it’s likely this whole endeavor is going to get pricey. I’ll let you know before I add any more money than we agreed on contract-wise. But I’m just giving you a head’s up,” he states, no bullshit and straight to the point.

  I nearly say I don’t care how much this costs as long as it’s not more than $250K. However, I know better than to supply him with an endless budget. Making him aware of just how much he can get out of me will ultimately lead to him milking every last dollar. That was one of the best lessons my Dad ever taught us. Keep your mouth shut unless it's viable. Never overshare.

  “Just keep me up to date,” I reply instead.

  He nods as he shuts my Jeep’s door and returns to his own car. I wait until he’s been gone and then add ten more minutes of sitting in the lot before leaving also.

  He was telling the truth when he said this could get costly, and fast. It’d be easy for Mr. Lynch to add on an extra couple thousand just because I admitted Dominic was a potentially dangerous person. Especially considering my desperation.

  I don’t care what I have to pay. Dipping into the money I had put away from Mom’s life insurance won’t cause me to lose any sleep at night. I’ll gladly bleed it dry until the last penny is gone; giving up all my plans for the future along with it—if it means Valley can have a normal life. And if that day ever comes when I really am penniless, I’ll find another way to make all her dreams come true.

  Even if it means putting myself in danger.

  Chapter One

  Valley

  Present…

  THUNDER RUMBLES, CRACKLING across the sky. The lightning that follows emanates through my window so brightly, it momentarily lights up my darkened room. I peel open my eyes, blinking slowly as I allow them time to adjust. Damn. Still the same hellish nightmare I’ve been living in.

  Can’t I just sleep my life away?

  It’s sad to come to a point in life when a person prefers the hours spent sleeping over the ones they're awake and lucid. It’s even more pathetic when they're not ashamed of that fact, and I’m not, not even one bit.

  Besides, it’s when I’m sleeping that he comes to me; caramel eyes that hold both warmth and mystery. That same old lopsided grin inserted directly between the most delicious set of dimples I’ve ever laid eyes on. A voice so smooth and delectable—like a balm to the senses—he could persuade anyone into just about anything, be it talking them down from the ledge or straight into an orgasm, no manual stimulation required.

  Separated by both time and distance—several years and 500 miles to be exact—Gray is now a ghost from my past. One who stars in my dreams every night, haunting me relentlessly.

  From the hours of ten PM to five AM, I’m wrapped up in his arms reliving memories so intensely vivid, I can hardly differentiate between fantasy and reality upon waking. It’s been more than three years since I’ve seen those eyes in real time, since I’ve been encased in those strong arms. Consequently, it’s been the same amount of time since I’ve felt any real sense of security.

  I miss the warmth of a man, the intimacy of having someone to talk to—that feeling when he pulls me flush against him and pins me under his burning gaze. I know what he’s thinking but your heart pumps hard in your chest as the seconds tick by, just waiting for him to press his lips to yours. Who am I fooling? I miss all that from one man in particular.

  Lately, however, I’ve been trying to spin my thoughts into being less subjective. It’s not normal to obsess over another person this much. I’m twenty-one years old, and Gray was a part of my life for less than a year. That’s less than four percent of my entire life, yet I still think about him more than a few times a day; if I’m being one hundred percent honest, I think about him more than a few times an hour.

  Questions are constantly popping up out of nowhere:

  Is he okay?

  What’s he doing now?

  Has he found someone else?

  Does he still care?

  Should I just call him?

  I ask that question a lot even though I did try to call a few months after I left. Surprisingly, Nana Rose had answered the phone which was a relief at the time because Lyra would have known my voice right off, and the last time we spoke, things did not end on good terms. I had steadied my voice and tried to treat it like any other call. Only for me, it felt like my life hung in the balance.

  ~XoXo~

  “Is Gray around?”

  “No, he isn’t,” comes Nana Rose’s voice from the other end of the line. She seems…irritated at the mention of his name.

  “Do you know when he’ll be back? It’s kind of important.” The eagerness in my tone is impossible to rein in as I squeeze the phone so tightly, I’m afraid it might crack.

  “Sorry, dear, I’m afraid not.” The older lady sounds genuinely apologetic.

  For a few moments, I’m silent, not wanting to hang up because I’m nursing some silly hope he’ll miraculously walk through the door and Nana Rose will pass the phone to him. It’s a fine example of me being silly, and just short of desperate.

  Being the wise older lady she is, I think Nana Rose must catch on to my hesitance to hang up, causing her to question just who she’s speaking with. “Sloane?” Her use of my previous identity has me wishing I was back there in Central Valley, still living Sloane’s much more enviable life.

  “It’s me,” I croak as my eyes start to burn.

  “I was wondering if that was you, Honey. Are you okay?”

  Nana Rose isn’t the type of woman you lie to. She’s wise enough to know the difference between the truth and dishonesty laced with sugar.

  “Physically, yes.” My admission is all truth without begging for pity, short, and no bullshit.

  “But your heart hurts.” She voices the parts left unsaid like only a grandmother could, even if she isn’t mine. “I wish I could put you in touch with my grandson because it might mean bringing him home to us, but he’s not been around in a while, Sugar. It wasn’t long after you left town that he packed up and moved as well, cut off his phone and hasn’t even given us his new number yet.”

  I gasp. “What?!”

  None of what she just said sounds like Gray. He’s all about his family. He’d do anything for them. He’s the one who runs that household for goodness sake.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” I muse aloud.

  “I agree with you there. I’m worried sick. So are Charles and Lyra, even though she won’t admit it. She acts angry, but it’s more of her hurting over the fact he left. She’s used to him bossing her around and telling her what to do.” She chuckles, but it’s filled with more sadness than merriment.

  “Do you want me to take down your number and pass it along when he finally gets in touch?”

  Yes. God, yes.

  But I can’t create avenues for other people to track me down, not after my father’s cronies almost got to us. I clear my throat before answering. “No, that’s okay. I’ll just check back again with you guys sometime.”

  “Well, I hope you are enjoying your new home. I’ll let him know you called anyway, once I hear from him. Take care.”

  “You too.”

  ~XoXo~

  I called back a few months after that, but that time, I wasn’t so lucky with the person that answered. The second time I tried to get in touch with Gray, I was greeted by the person who hated me most in their family—Lyra, my former best friend. Just as I thought she would, she immediately recognized my voice and the way she spat my name out of her mouth made me feel every bit of her scorn. The call lasted less than a minute but in those sixty seconds, I was able to ascertain a wealth of information in comparison to my phone call with Nana Rose.

  For instance, I came to understand Lyra hated me and felt I was to blame for her brother distancing himself from his family—a
nd by distance, I mean it in every sense of the word. From the exasperation in her voice, the huffs and puffs blown in my ear every time I asked a question, and especially from the fact that sweet little Lyra Knightly flat-out called me a home-wrecking bitch, it was clear Gray hardly spoke with them after moving.

  Then, just before we hung up, she delivered the final blow: Gray had recently called home to check in with everyone and give them his contact information—with a very specific request. He told them if anyone, he didn’t care who it was, asked for his new number, they were not to give it to them. As in, not even me.

  I was hurt and severely confused, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to reach out. I googled him. I searched for his name on several social media platforms. He left no breadcrumbs for me to follow, nearly making me wonder if he really was a ghost. Did his phantom-like ways and his drive to remain inaccessible have something to do with me? That’s another question I often wonder, but I know it’s just a way of flattering myself; a plain and simple invention of the mind to dull the ache.

  Should I reach out again? One final time, just to give myself some peace of mind; to help reach closure. I’m almost ready to say fuck it and not even worry about whether or not I put myself at risk going back into the town where my father found us—and very nearly caught us. I wouldn’t have to worry about Mom. She’s still around, but she finally agreed to live semi-separate lives.

  Semi-separate for us, meaning we each have our own apartments now, just in the same complex. We still see each other every day, but I don’t have to seek her permission for every move I make.

  I may have a lot more freedom, but with more freedom comes more downtime. Extra free-time, in my case, means I get lonely. A lot.

  Lonely. I scoff as my mind latches onto the word. It’s something I was once accustomed to, once okay with. All until I moved to a place called Central Valley. Everything changed in that sleepy little southern town. There, I made my first friend. EVER. Even more notable, I fell in love when I didn’t even believe love existed.