GRIT: A Spartan Riders Novel (19 page)

True to his word, Blake returned moments later, looking stressed as ever. With a cursory glance, he told them, “Come on. Time to go.”

“Is everything all right?” After handing him back his change, she shrugged on her jacket and waited for Ash to vacate the booth and gather his complementary packet of crayons before following him out.

Blake’s open hand slapped the door open, bouncing it on its hinges as he stormed from the building. Gabby’s concern deepened, unease wending through her stomach like a bed of snakes. He didn’t speak another word until Ash was tucked away inside the truck—a vehicle that was way too nice to be used so little.

With a storm brewing behind his silver eyes, Blake told her, “That was Country. Got some club shit that needs my attention tonight. Will you stay with Ash, make sure he’s settled until I get back?”

Fear turned a tide in her gut, but Gabby managed a warbled “Okay,” when what she really wanted to do was shout, “Tell me what’s going on!” This was just one of many reasons she questioned making any sort of lasting commitment to him. If that beast of a man that’d shot Shane didn’t get to her first, the not knowing, being kept in the dark with no hope for the light, was sure to kill her.

TWENTY-FOUR

Blake arrived at the edge of the tree line and followed Country’s lead, killing the engine as they approached the gravel road concealed by the thicket of bush and bracket. A path had been cleared to allow large vehicles to pass. Off to the side, there was a flat area of land surrounded by more trees and bush, and that’s where Country stashed his bike. Blake followed suit, as did Taco, Repo, and a couple of prospects they felt could lend a solid hand.

Under the moonless sky, the night was pitch black this far out into the countryside, and Blake couldn’t shake the unease that squirmed through him. Country’s recon work said that this was where Ricky Cruiz was running the bulk of his daily operations. He’d canvassed the grounds, checking security measures and the like, and even though Blake trusted his judgment and his word, his guard remained up. It had to. Getting himself killed out here was not an option.

His thoughts immediately reflected on Gabby’s hurt expression when he’d left her back at the house. He knew this was hard for her, especially since she hadn’t been raised in the life as he had, but she had to get over it if she was going to be with him. And she was with him as far as he was concerned. She might not like how they operated—keeping information at a minimum—but she’d have to understand that there was a reason for it. He wasn’t setting out to hurt or offend her in any way when he said that he couldn’t tell her anything. He was simply doing his best to keep them all alive and well.

Besides, if he got himself into trouble out here tonight—which was highly likely—then she wouldn’t be held complicit for anything.

But tonight was all about information gathering. They needed to know what was happening in their backyard so they could develop a plan to combat it. With Jodi sleeping with the enemy and Cruiz pushing in on their territory, they couldn’t afford to continue looking the other way. Before, when Cruiz was just peddling his services, he wasn’t worth getting their hackles up over. It was simply a wait and see how it plays out kind of thing. Now that Jodi was involved, however, things were more complicated. She had insider knowledge—however limited that might be—and it was imperative that they ensured the Spartans and their families were safe from any blowback she might cause.

Blake didn’t think for one second that Jodi wouldn’t do or say whatever she could if it meant destroying him. If she had proved anything at all since walking out that door, it was that she was a vicious, vindictive bitch.

Once they had their bikes stowed out of sight, Country led the way up the sloping grounds toward a large, weathered red barn that glowed from the lights on inside.

Off to the side, Blake spotted a sprawling farmhouse that had fallen into disrepair. It, too, was lit up internally, giving him the sense that, if they were outted, there were enough people on the grounds to cause them some serious trouble.

His men seemed to understand the inherent danger and kept close but quiet as they crept nearer to the barn. Signaling right, Country guided them around the side of the structure to a window that had been blacked out but retained enough scratches in some areas to provide a decent view inside.

Country took point, scoping out the interior and getting a read on what was happening inside before moving over to allow Blake access. The view wasn’t clear by any means, but he was able to make out shapes and colors well enough to get a decent picture.

“Meth?” he mouthed. Country nodded. The room on the other side of that wall was filled with bright overhead lighting that hung from the rafters and rows of tables manned by nearly-naked people. At the front of the room stood an armed guard wearing a face mask to guard from the deadly fumes. Guess they didn’t provide healthcare.

One piece of the puzzle figured out, they moved on toward the back of the barn. Another road made of compacted dirt wound a path through a field of corn to God only knew where. At its mouth was a large box truck, sat idling, while its driver—a middle-aged, brown-skinned man with a thicker head of black hair than his own—stood, engaged in a heated exchange with another man easily half his age. From their vantage, only a mélange of indiscernible English and what sounded like Spanish made it to their ears, but it was clear that whatever they were discussing they couldn’t agree on.

“You think that’s a deal?” Repo whispered over Blake’s shoulder.

He shrugged. Too early to tell. Taking Country’s lead, they held their position, waiting to see how the situation played out. Moving now was too risky anyway. Crouched behind an assortment of decaying farm equipment provided a modicum of protection from the naked eye, but any movement on their part could reveal their position in a heartbeat. They were literally sitting ducks out there.

Blake wasn’t sure how long they’d been hunkered down in that spot, but it was long enough for his legs to start cramping. He knew his men were feeling the strain too, but they remained stalwart in their efforts to stay hidden. None of them desired to go home in a body bag tonight. Or end up in a dry creek bed for the carrion to feast on.

When the older man began heading toward the back of the truck, Blake opened his mouth to suggest they take the opportunity to retreat, only to snap it shut again when movement from his left caught his eye.

The barn’s giant double doors slid open, leaving a gaping hole along the back wall. Once again, Blake and his men watched intently to see what came next.

Within moments, the younger man made an appearance…followed by a line of women. Blake counted ten in total, all barefoot, dirty, and wearing chains that connected them to one another.

Fucking A. Country’s girl had been right. Cruiz wasn’t just pimping women out, he was trafficking them.

Balling his fists, Blake clamped his jaw together to hold back his fury. Behind him, he could feel the barely restrained rage from his men as well. In their world, women were respected, not treated like animals or receptacles kept around solely for a man’s use.

The points against Cruiz just kept racking up. Blake couldn’t wait to make the fucker pay.

It took every ounce of restraint he and his men had to watch those women get loaded into the back of that truck and allow it to drive away. He had to tell himself they were already lost and make peace with it before he was able to gather his men and head back to their bikes.

Thankfully, they made it off the grounds without incident, but he and his men were definitely worse for wear. By the time they were back on the road headed for home, the weight of what they’d witnessed began to press down, and without a word spoken between them, they rode to the clubhouse together where they spent the remainder of the night and a good deal of the morning getting shitfaced in order to drown out the disturbing things they’d seen with the only solace being that, come time for church, they were going to form a plan. A plan that would focus on taking Cruiz and his men down once and for all, which meant that the last ten years of peace was over.

They were going to war.

TWENTY-FIVE

Blake had been MIA all night. No sooner than he’d dropped her and Ash off at the house, he’d jumped on his bike and rode out. That was several hours ago and the last she’d heard of him.

Needless to say, Gabby was worried.

She didn’t know much—nothing at all, really—about what motorcycle clubs did, but she’d heard enough stories, and Shane’s own fallout from being involved with one had colored her perception of them considerably.

Gabby was trying to keep an open mind, but without any answers to ease her apprehension, she found herself falling back on old habits. Meaning she was thinking the worst and doing a fine job of working herself into a tizzy.

Thinking she heard the sound of a motorcycle engine in the distance, she popped out of bed and pushed the curtains aside, peering into the night. After a few suspended moments, an old beater drove past. The breath whooshed out of her, and she dropped the curtains, climbing back into bed with a margin of disappointment.

How many more hours did he plan to be away? Was he hurt? Had he been arrested? There was no telling. She’d picked up the phone more than once throughout the night, intending to call him and see what the hell was going on, only to set it down again, reminded of his parting words. He’d made it very clear that he would be home when he was home and not to worry. He’d also made it very clear that this was club business, and no way in hell was he going to tell her about any of it.

She’d walked away in a huff, knowing for certain that if they stayed the course, being kept in the dark was something she’d never get used to.

Rolling over, Gabby pulled Blake’s pillow into her arms and inhaled the heady scent of him left behind—leather and male musk. She liked that he didn’t douse himself in cologne or cloying aftershave that would take away from his natural scent. He was just raw, hard, masculine male perfection, and she couldn’t get enough.

By the time the clock on the nightstand ticked over to three in the morning, Gabby gave up trying to wait for him and decided she’d better get some kind of sleep. She had work in the morning, and it just wouldn’t do to be dead on her feet in a room full of small children just waiting for her to let her guard down.

Sometimes she swore she was a prison guard more than a teacher, and they were her unruly inmates. At least she had Ash on her side. Though with the way he scarfed down that cookie at dinner, she wondered how strong his loyalty might be if offered the right snack. Marybeth could have him in her clutches with one wave of an Oreo.

All right, her thoughts were starting to stray into strange territory. She definitely needed to get some sleep before she started dreaming up
Army of Darkness
type stuff that would ensure she’d never get a wink of shuteye.

No sooner had she closed her eyes did the alarm go off. The first thing Gabby did was reach across the bed and feel the sheets for Blake. She came up empty, and a pang of sadness swam over her, followed quickly by a mixture of fear, worry, and irritation. What could he possibly be doing out all night?

Her thoughts threatened to take a turn down a road that she was not prepared to take this early in the morning.

Dragging herself out of bed, Gabby released an exhausted groan. Even the day seemed to be crying at the injustice. Rain pelted the roof and windowsills, and the wind howled as it scraped across the siding. It was fitting, she supposed, that the day should so closely match her mood.

She trudged her way through a shower and drew on energy she didn’t have to spare in order to get dressed. With what little she had left, she decided to do a simple blowout and call it good.

Waking Ash was no simple feat. It took several tries and many empty threats of extra homework to get him out of bed and moving. By the time she’d made it into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, she was considering calling in sick just to get a few hours more sleep.

Instead, she brewed an extra strong pot of coffee, hoping beyond hope that it’d be enough to get her through the morning. Moments later, an automated call from the school came through, informing her that school had been delayed due to the weather. Thankful for the temporary reprieve, she slowed down and took her time getting ready.

She was halfway through the pot of coffee when a rumble of thunder came rolling up the driveway. Relief swelled in her chest at the same time her anger spiked. Draining her mug, she refilled it as she allowed the latter of her emotions to take center stage.

Blake trudged through the door as she took her first sip of her fourth cup of coffee. Her direct line of sight from the kitchen to the front door meant that she could watch his every move as he took off his jacket and dropped it on the hook mounted on the wall next to the door. Her gaze didn’t leave him while he stepped out of his wet boots, nor did they as he scrubbed his hands over his damp face before peeling off the blue bandanna he wore around his head. 

“I can feel your eyes from here,” he said in a tired voice. Was that a slur she detected? When he turned, his bloodshot eyes lifted to hers, and Gabby flinched at how haggard he looked. “What are you doing up so early anyway?”

“Early? It’s almost nine,” was her curt response. Thank God the weather had caused the school to issue a two-hour delay. She needed the extra time to pull herself together.

“Nine?” Blake’s brows knit together and he glanced at the clock on the wall. Scratching his fingers across his stubble-covered chin, he grunted. “Must have lost track of time,” he muttered to himself.

“Seems like a running theme with you.” Setting her mug down, she poured a fresh cup, figuring he needed the caffeine as much or more than she did. “Could have called,” she informed as she crossed the room to hand it to him. Immediately, she picked up the tang of alcohol in the air. Her jaw clenched just thinking about how he’d spent his hours away. And here she’d actually lost sleep worrying over him.

“No, I really couldn’t.” He took the cup with a grateful half-smile that made her heart bleed just a little bit. Maybe he’d had a rough night after all? Regardless, Gabby was not about to let him off the hook just because she was so sickeningly happy to see him. “Shouldn’t you and Ash be at school by now?”

“Delayed.” She dropped down on the couch beside him. “So, how did it go last night? Why were you gone so long? I was worried something bad had happened to you, but considering I’m getting drunk just sitting next to you, I needn’t have been.”

Blake’s features scrunched as he sipped the hot brew. After he’d downed half, he came up for air with an audible sigh. “I’m not drunk, just hungover, and I told you not to worry. It was fine. Nothing bad happened. I just decided to have some drinks with the boys afterward.”

The way his voice dropped off at the end and the fact that he wouldn’t look up from his cup told a different story. Had he been drinking to take the edge off whatever “didn’t” happen? “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?”

“And what if I was? Are ya gonna spank me, teach?”

“Don’t test me, Mahone.” She glared, and he just laughed. “So are you lying or what?”

“I wouldn’t tell you even if I wasn’t.”

“Right, because this is club business.”

He tipped his head and drank more coffee. A nerve in Gabby’s eye twitched. She hated being in the damned dark!

“Listen, I’m gonna need you to bring Ash home with you today.”

“Why?”

“Because I have business to attend to after work.”

“Club business?”

He cut her a sidelong look.

“Fine, yeah, whatever,” she huffed. Waited for him to say something, anything. Good thing she hadn’t decided to hold her breath. She would have died waiting. “So you’re not going to tell me anything about last night? About what dragged you away and kept you out all hours?”

“Nope.”

Well, that settled it then. “Fine. Have it your way. I need to finish getting ready for work.” She rose to walk away, but Blake caught her wrist, holding her in place.

“Don’t be mad, teach. It’s just how things are. It’s for your protection as much as mine.”

She stared at him, looking up at her, for several heartbeats before gently extricating herself from his hold. “Yeah, well, doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“No, you don’t,” he agreed. “But you do have to learn to accept it, seeing as how you’re my old lady and all.”

Gabby had just made it to the hallway when she turned around and propped her fists on her hips. “Rewind that for me please.”

“You heard me, teach.” Blake’s smug smile pissed her off more than she already was. Keeping his gaze trained on his coffee cup might have been the only thing to save him from her losing her mind and going nuclear on his ass.

Even though he couldn’t see her do it, she stabbed her finger at him. “Don’t go getting ahead of yourself, Blake. I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“You will. Give it time.”

Her head felt as if it’d erupted into flames. Marching back into the room, she leaned over the back of the couch, just above his head, and whispered fiercely, “For future reference, let’s get something straight between us. I might like your rough and tumble, take charge, macho attitude in the bedroom—hell, I might even like it sometimes outside of it—but when it comes to
my life
and
my free will
, you will
not
dictate to me.” She spun away, only to whirl right back around. “And another thing. You want me to be your old lady? Well, I hate to break it to you, but the way you just spoke to me pretty much ensured that will never happen.”

She’d only taken a few steps when she heard his soft reply, and it sounded something like “We’ll see about that.” So she brazenly shouted, “Yes, we will, won’t we!” as she stormed off to the sound of his infuriating chuckle.

***

Gabby sat at the round table surrounded by her colleagues. They were supposed to be planning how best to approach the topic of bullying on a grander level. Something that was more inclusive to the school as a whole, on a daily basis, as sort of a motto rather than a once a year reminder. But all of her attention was focused on the little boy who she’d left waiting in an empty classroom with nothing but busywork to keep him occupied.

It was irrational to be so preoccupied worrying about Ash being alone, especially when the school was emptied out and was technically the safest place to be, but she couldn’t seem to shake the sensation. It felt imperative that she check on him.

Her knee bounced beneath the table, her fingers fidgeting with her pencil as she thought about that blacked out SUV she seen sitting down the road from the house when they’d left that morning. The same one that had trailed her a couple weeks back. And maybe she was just being paranoid, but she could have sworn she’d seen it parked outside when she’d taken the kids to recess after lunch too. What if it wasn’t a coincidence? What if all her fears about being found were coming to fruition?

She sat ramrod straight in her chair, eager to get out of there asap, and by the odd looks she was garnering, everyone had noticed.

“I’m sorry, Gabby, are we keeping you from something?”

Her eyes shot wide and she offered up a strained smile. “Uh… no. No,” she said with more confidence. “Please, keep going.”

Stacy, the fourth grade science teacher, gave her a look before returning to her notes. It took another ten nail-biting minutes before she wrapped it up, and then Principal Linden dismissed everyone, wishing them all a good weekend.

Gabby shot out of her seat and was the first one out the door. She nearly tripped over her own feet getting to her classroom, and God help her if anyone had tried to hold her up. She’d have trampled right over them.

Relief flooded through her like a tidal wave when she looked in to find Ash sitting quietly at his desk, working diligently on his homework. He looked up when he heard her come in.

“Can we go home now?”

Drawing in a cleansing breath, she smiled brightly. “Sure thing. Grab your stuff and we’re out of here.”

Slinging his book bag over his shoulder, he waited for her to lock up, then followed alongside her as they made their way outside to her car. Once he’d buckled up, she pulled out onto the road, scanning the area for the SUV, but it was nowhere in sight.

Ash’s belly grumbled and Gabby realized it was nearing five in the afternoon, their usual dinnertime. With Blake busy with…whatever he was busy with, she considered what to feed him. There wasn’t much at the house to put a meal together with that she wouldn’t burn, which meant she’d have to swing by the grocery store on the way…

Gabby had a brilliant idea.

“Hey, what do you say we go to my house for dinner tonight. It’s Thursday, so lasagna night.” She waggled her eyebrows, hoping he’d say yes.

“I guess so. Is Daddy going to be there?”

Turning down the road that took her back to her parents’ house, she considered her answer. “I don’t know. He said he had some business to take care of.” His crestfallen look pained her, so she added, “But we can call him when we get there and invite him over, see if he can meet us. Sound good?”

He grinned. “Sounds good.”