GRIT: A Spartan Riders Novel

by J.C. Valentine

  “We’re going to have some fun tonight, you and I,” he informed as he walked a path around her, the heels of his boots scuffing the straw. “When I’m through, you’re going to wish you died. Assuming you don’t, I have special plans for you. A truck waiting out back, ready to take you and the others to mi hacienda especial, although I don’t expect you’ll be the prize you are now once I’m through with you. You have Jodi here to thank for that.”

  Gabby’s gaze shot up, registering the pride in Jodi’s eyes. The bitch had actually helped him plan out what he was going to do with her? She wished she was close enough to spit on her too.

  Brandishing the knife, Ricky reached around her from behind. She felt the cool kiss of metal on her chest, just below her collarbone, and her breath froze in her lungs. The smoky flavor of tobacco swept past her nose as he leaned in close, his lips against her ear.

  “I’m going to fuck you up so good, chica. That pretty boyfriend of yours won’t be able to look at you the same ever again. Not that he will.”

  His maniacal laughter echoed in her ears at the same time she felt the blade slide across her skin. At the first cut, Gabby unleashed an unholy scream that filled the rafters and drowned out everything else around her.

  TWENTY-NINE

  The call came down just after seven that evening. Country and Repo were moving in. Whatever was going down, they needed reinforcements.

  Blake didn’t hesitate to be on the front line.

  Leading the pack, Blake sped down the road so fast the scenery around him blurred. His brothers, armed to the teeth, were right behind him. They took the same route he’d used the first time he was there, tires spinning out on the loose gravel as they took the turn onto the concealed road way too fast.

  Thinking of nothing but Gabby and the possibilities surrounding his men’s need for backup, Blake didn’t bother with hiding. As a unit, they rode straight through to the property, the angry roar of their bikes announcing to everyone and God that they had arrived, and they’d brought trouble.

  Doors burst open from every angle—the barn, the house, random vehicles sprinkled around the lot—spilling armed men who ran straight for them like a pack of wolves, prepared to head them off.

  Blake slowed just enough to dismount the bike without breaking anything before throwing it aside. As he ran toward a hulking figure with an AK-47 aimed between his eyes, he saw his bike in his peripheral vision skid on its side and straight into the legs of another man.

  Two birds, he laughed to himself. Then, faster than either of them could blink, he crossed his arms over his chest and pulled his guns from the holster under his arms, fired four rounds straight into muscled man’s torso, knocking him back a few steps. His own shoulder jerked back, taking a slug clean through, but he kept moving forward, pumping off another shot. The other man’s eyes widened in shock, hand releasing his gun, before he tumbled backward to the ground like a fallen tree.

  More men came at him. He dropped them all in quick succession, clearing a path. All around him, Blake was vaguely aware that his men were engaged in their own battles. In the back of his mind, he knew he should turn back and help, but he was on a mission of his own.

  That distress call was his top priority. Gabby was his top priority. Just as he would do for his men and they would do for him, he would give his life protecting her. He’d sworn an oath to himself that he’d never let harm come to her again, and he was damn certain going to make sure he followed through on that promise.

  The barn doors stood wide open, all the men inside having cleared out and currently preoccupied with his brothers. Blake slipped inside, keeping to the perimeter to lessen his chances of being spotted.

  The space, which should have been cavernous, had been walled off with sheet plastic lining each stall. Behind the plastic, bright lights shone from the rafters. He already knew what was going on behind them—meth production to the nth power. But he wasn’t interested in any of that right now. Later, after he ensured Gabby’s safety, he and his men would burn the place to the ground. Until then, he was focused on one thing and one thing only: finding Gabby and getting her out alive.

  In the distance, Blake heard the low chatter of voices and followed them. Straw littering the floor helped to mask his footfalls, but he forced himself to maintain a steady, careful pace. Guns held out in front of him, he ignored the burn in his shoulder, his gaze constantly roving, he watched for signs of movement as he closed in on his target.

  When he reached the last stall positioned closest to a second pair of wall-sized sliding doors matching the ones he’d entered through at the front, Blake breathed deep, sent a prayer up to whoever was listening, and rushed in.

  “On your knees, mother…Tucker? Garrick? What the hell are you two doing in here?” As soon as the question left his lips, Blake looked between them and came face to face with his worst nightmare. He was running before he had the conscious thought to do so. “What the fuck happened?” he roared.

  Shoving his brothers out of the way, Blake fell to his knees and scooped a lifeless Gabby into his arms. He saw red, both figuratively and literally. The front of her pale pink shirt was soaked through with fresh blood. Terror like he’d never known ripped through him as Blake gently pulled the fabric back, expecting the worst. Instant relief coupled with impotent fury assaulted him. The bastard had cut her, destroying her flawless skin. One large gash extended from the inside of her left breast and curved up and over, ending just below her right clavicle and was surrounded by several smaller, shallow slices. The former was still bleeding, pumping fresh blood with every beat of her heart. He didn’t think Cruiz had hit anything vital, but he’d feel better once they got her medical attention.

  Speaking of Cruiz…

  For the first time, he took stock of his surroundings. Only the four of them occupied the stall. Through clenched teeth, he growled, “Where the fuck is he? Where’s Cruiz?”

  He felt Tucker step up behind him. “We missed one of the guards. Must have been a shift change. He blew our cover. I slit his throat and dropped him fast, but it was already too late. The alarm was sounded at the same time we heard her screams. Garrick called in reinforcements right away and we went in, but they already knew we were here. It must have given Cruiz enough time to slip out. She was already unconscious when we found her. She’s in shock. I just cut the ropes they used to tie her to the chair when you got here.”

  “You let him get away,” Blake hissed, wanting blood, needing vengeance.

  “Not on purpose, man.”

  “It’s my fault,” Tucker said, his voice unusually small. “When I heard her scream…I acted. I wasn’t quiet ‘bout it either.”

  “It’s no one’s fault,” Garrick broke in. “Believe me, we wish we’d killed him just as much as you. We’ll get him though. He can run, he can hide, but he won’t get far.”

  Heart hammering in his chest, Blake smoothed Gabby’s hair back from her face, leaving a crimson smear though the caramel strands, reminding him that they were both in need of medical attention. “How do you figure?” he bit out.

  A supportive hand clamped down on his uninjured shoulder and squeezed. “Because Cruiz doesn’t have a Country on his side.”

  Lifting his gaze, Blake met Garrick’s hard stare. The man was tough as stone, but he’d known the man all his life, so he saw the sympathy shining behind those dark orbs.

  “We’ll get him, brother,” Garrick repeated, voice softer this time.

  Blake wanted to believe him. Needed to believe. Anything to keep him from running out that door to stage a one-man brigade. Gabby needed him more than his vengeance needed sating. Staring down at the unconscious woman in his arms, Blake’s heart broke knowing he’d been late reaching her. To save her from the unimaginable horrors she’d faced in the hands of that monster.

  His vision blurred, turning her face into a watercolor. Nodding sharply, Blake gave Garrick his answer.

  ***

  “Blake?”

 
Blake lifted his head, his clammy cheek peeling free of the top of her hand where it’d been resting. A crick in his neck gave him a moment’s pause, but his relief at seeing Gabby finally awake took precedence.

  “Thank God.” Standing, he bent over her and kissed her lips, needing that margin of contact to ease his frazzled nerves. “I was worried. Everyone was. You wouldn’t wake up.”

  She lifted her hand to cover the area on her chest where the damage was inflicted, the effort clearly taxing. She grimaced, and Blake’s free hand shot out, grabbing the bottle of pain meds Sable, their resident nurse, had left behind for her.

  “Here, baby, take one of these. It’ll help.” Dropping the pill on her tongue, he retrieved the glass of water from the bedside table and helped her get a few good swallows before helping her get comfortable again.

  “What happened?”

  Her raspy voice slayed him, making him want to go out and hunt down that bastard, Cruiz, and chop him into little pieces for laying a hand on his woman. He was still outraged that he’d gotten away, but they’d find him. Cruiz’s days were numbered.

  “Cruiz abducted you, held you prisoner. We rescued you…but not before he…” His gaze dropped and he swallowed thickly, unable to say the words. It pained him to admit that he hadn’t been able to keep his promise, even if it had mostly been to himself.

  “He cut me,” she murmured, her eyes glazed over—haunted—as she traced a finger over the bandages beneath the long shirt she wore. “I can still see the knife…” Her voice adopted a wobble as she continued, tears gathering in her eyes that sparked Blake’s own. “He said if I lived, he had plans. Special plans. That I had Jodi to thank for it.”

  Blake’s breath froze. “She was there?”

  Fearful eyes met his. “She watched the whole thing. She was the one who suggested what to do with me.”

  The trucks, no doubt. That vile bitch had planned to throw Gabby into slavery for what, vengeance against him? His fists balled tight, his breathing suddenly ragged. “She’ll pay, I swear to you. We’re gonna find her, and she’ll pay.”

  For once, Gabby didn’t argue with him. Her gaze held his, and her tears tumbled down the sides of her face. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  Anger shelved for the moment, Blake’s heart squeezed. “Never, baby. I’m here. I’m not goin’ anywhere. That bastard is never going to touch you again.” His big hands enveloped her cheeks, wiping away her tears as each one fell.

  “I never should have left. Blake, I never should have left.”

  His heart hurt—actually hurt—to hear the truth put out there. When she was still missing, he could deny it, shape his own version of what had happened, but in the recesses of his mind, he’d always known the truth. She’d left him of her own accord that morning, while he slept. If Cruiz hadn’t taken her, then she would have simply vanished from his life.

  “Why did you?” he asked, risking even more pain for extending the invitation.

  Her lips trembled and more tears fell. “The other night, at my parents’, I found a letter. He’d sent it to me. I couldn’t keep putting everyone in danger. I couldn’t live with myself if any of you got hurt because of me, because of my choices.”

  “What choices, baby? You didn’t choose for Cruiz to target you. He’s a monster, and he focused on you because he likes to hurt people, simple as that.”

  Her head shook side to side, her eyes squeezing shut as if frustrated. “You don’t understand. I did have a choice.”

  “What, give yourself over to a psychopath so he could kill you, or better yet, kill your spirit when he sold you into the sex trade business? I’d die before I let him take away the part of you I love most.” His hand covered hers, directly over her heart. “I love you, Gabby. I should have said it before, then maybe you would have understood that I’m in this with you. I would have helped, would have found answers, something. All you had to do was ask.”

  Wrenching her hand out from beneath his, she covered her face, dissolving into sobs that left Blake utterly confused. “I’m a horrible person. You shouldn’t love me.”

  “Shut up. You’re the best woman I know, and I’m saying that as a man whose ex-girlfriend, baby-mama, and current druggie is sleeping with the enemy. And after you get out of this bed, hell, maybe before so you can’t go running off again, I’m giving you my patch.”

  Gabby’s hands dropped to her lap and her eyes shot wide. “No! You can’t do that. I don’t deserve it!”

  “You’re the only person who deserves it. I told you, that patch is about trust, and I trust you, Gabby. I trust you with the most important part of myself: Ash. That kind of thing doesn’t come easy for me, so that means you gotta be it. You’re my ol’ lady.”

  For a moment, Gabby just stared at him, her mouth opening and closing as she floundered for something to say. Blake smiled, thinking he had her pinned. She wasn’t talking her way out of this one.

  Then she shocked the hell out of him.

  “I know where the money is!”

  Dead. Silence. Stunned, Blake sat back, severing all connection with her while his brain worked to process what she’d just said.

  “It’s in a safe deposit box in a bank about forty miles south of here. Shane set it up.” Her eyes glazed over and her confession came tumbling out. “I was making dinner for us one evening when he came in, sweaty and pale. I thought for a second he’d been out jogging, but he wasn’t dressed for it. He came up to me, took my hand, and pressed a key into the center. He said to put it someplace safe and never let anyone know about it. I thought he was joking at first, but then he told me he was in trouble. Some people were looking for him and if they came by the apartment, not to answer anything. Plausible deniability. He told me what bank then made me swear never to tell a soul.

  “I didn’t know until that man, Ricky Cruiz, had us brought to the warehouse that night that Shane had stashed money in that box. I wanted to tell him right then where it was, but one look in his eyes and I knew. If I told him where to find it, I might as well put the bullet in my head myself.”

  Blake was shaking, vibrating like a cheap hotel bed outfitted with a quarter slot machine. He was shell-shocked. “So you’ve been lying this whole time. When you told me that there wasn’t any money, you lied straight to my face.”

  “I didn’t know what else to do. Ever since that night, I’ve been running. I kept my promise to Shane. I never told anyone, not a soul. I’ve never even been to that bank, like, if somehow if I never saw it, never visited it, then it wasn’t real. That none of this was real. I just wanted my life back. Can you understand that? I just wanted to go back to the way things were. Some kind of normal. Being with you and Ash made me feel like maybe I could have that again.”

  “Is that why you spend your Sundays visiting that piece of shit? Because you want to forget?” Blake sneered.

  Gabby’s head jerked back. “How did you know I go on Sundays? I only told you I visited him, past tense. Did you have me followed?”

  “I told you, trust is a big deal in my world. You shouldn’t be surprised.”

  Slowly, the shock began to fade and Gabby sighed. “I told you the truth when I said that I felt guilty. I know Shane did this to himself, but sometimes I lie awake at night and wonder if I was wrong. Maybe if I had told Cruiz about the money, he would have let us go, and maybe Shane wouldn’t be like he is now.”

  “He deserves to be in that bed,” Blake hissed, furious that she would even consider making excuses for him.

  “I know. He did this to himself. He did this to me. Guilt isn’t always logical, it just is.” Lifting her gaze, she smiled faintly. “At least it’s over now though. I can finally move on with my life. No more looking over my shoulder. And I have you to thank for it.”

  A humorless laugh bubbled from his chest as Blake rose to his feet. “That’s where you’re wrong, teach. Cruiz got away before we could take him out. Now we all have to look over our shoulder.”

  Her ti
ny gasp was all he heard as Blake turned around and left her alone to digest that piece of info. After everything he heard, he needed time alone to digest, and he needed a fucking drink to wash it all down with.

  THIRTY

  Gabby lie awake for hours, looking around the room without really seeing any of it. She was too busy thinking about her conversation with Blake. He’d said Cruiz was still out there. Automatically, her gaze darted to the mini blinds in search of shadows. When he’d told her that he had saved her, she’d thought Cruiz was dead. Prayed Jodi was too. She should have known it’d be too much to hope for.

  God, she thought as a severe bout of depression settled in, I’m going to spend the rest of my life waiting to die.

  As far as her relationship with Blake went, she didn’t figure she’d given him much reason to stick around. She’d lied to him, big time, and it was obvious that he wasn’t too thrilled about it. The fact that she’d been left alone for hours in a strange bed in a strange room in a strange place was testament to that.

  The only reasonable conclusion was that he was through with her. She couldn’t blame him. She deserved his anger, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

  “Knock, knock. They told me you were awake, so I thought I’d come in and check your bandages, make sure you’re not in any pain or anything.”

  Gabby looked up to see a tall, slender woman with long, flowing dark brown hair and flawless, tawny skin stride into the room. She had a bright smile on her face and seemed to carry sunshine on her back, because she was positively glowing.

  Instantly, Gabby felt happier, more at ease. “Hi…You must be…”

  “Sable,” the woman offered. “I’m the nurse around here. I patch up the guys whenever they get into somethin’ they shouldn’t, which is more often than not.” She chuckled. “So how are you enjoying the presidential suite?”