Chapter 51
That’s the last thing I expect him to say. The last thing I expect to see, because the view in front of us is nothing like the digital photos I’ve seen of Valterra Ridge.
I wrinkle my forehead. “I thought it was supposed to be a crater.”
“The crater’s somewhere down there. An earthquake shaved off another big chunk of the cliff years ago.”
Right. I remember reading that in the excerpts from my mother’s file.
The bombings had been followed by an earthquake that destroyed what was left of the Ridge.
An entire community decimated. An entire village swallowed whole by the sea.
Well, almost whole. I stare at the dark water and the scattered remnants beneath it.
“It’s probably better that the crater is underwater now,” he muses. “When I was younger and I’d fly past here, you could still see all their bones.”
I shudder. “You’ve been here before?”
“This was my home.”
A gasp slips out. “You’re from Valterra Ridge?”
Gray nods. “Born and raised on the Ridge.”
“You survived the assault,” I say slowly. “Like Luisa and her family?”
“Her parents were the ones who got me out,” Gray admits, and now it makes a lot more sense why he’s so close to Beatriz and Seth. Why they treat him like a son.
“You had a family here?” My heart squeezes at the notion.
“My mom and dad. Two older sisters.” Pain etches into his face. “Dad died in the first air strike. Mom and my sisters were killed in the ground attack.”
I suddenly feel sick.
My mother did this.
She’s the reason for the bombing. She’s the reason an entire community is underwater and why I’m standing here with the man whose entire family was annihilated.
The destruction Marina Serrano caused is unfathomable. I want to cry. I almost open my mouth and blurt out the truth, but I swallow the confession at the last second, because I’m terrified he’ll look at me differently. Kallister told me they’re not my sins to carry, but it feels like they are.
“I’m so sorry, Gray.” My voice breaks. I hope he attributes it to shock, and not the hot stabs of guilt in my gut and the agonizing burning in my throat. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because it’s in the past. I don’t think about the past.”
No, I realize, he doesn’t like to think about anything that causes him pain. He’d probably ground his own emotions if he could.
“Then why are you telling me now?”
He makes a disgruntled noise.
“What?”
“I don’t want to say his fucking name right now.”
I furrow my brow. “Whose name—” I stop, my frown deepening. “You mean Cross?”
“This whole time,” Gray starts, “I’ve been sitting here, jealous of the captain because he had his hands on you. Wanting to kill him for having a part of your heart—”
I hide a smile at the raspy growl I hear in his voice.
“The thing is, I can’t expect to have any part of you when I don’t give you a single thing in return. So I’m changing that,” he says simply. “I brought you here tonight to show you a part of myself that I’ve never let anyone else see.”
I almost stop him, because I’m scared that if he knew who my parents were, he wouldn’t want to share a damn thing with me.
But at the same time, I want to be here for him. He’s kept his emotions in for so long. He deserves that release.
“You asked why I don’t speak to her. My aunt.” His shoulders set in a tense line.
“What did she do to you?” I ask softly.
“It’s not what she did. It’s what she didn’t do. She stood by and let my uncle beat the shit out of me. Almost daily.”
“Oh my God.”
He shakes his head, eyes flashing with betrayal. He looks so wounded, so incredulous that anyone could do that. I get it. Grayson Blake is the kind of person who would throw himself between an abuser and their victim. He’d never stand by and watch.
“After my parents and sisters were killed”—he gestures to the watery graveyard below us—“my aunt and uncle were all I had left. The network sent us to the valley, set us up there. I didn’t know them well.
” He scoffs. “Now I wish I never met them. My uncle, Taylor, was a boozer. I never saw him without a bottle of something in his hand. Usually grange. He didn’t care that I was a kid.
I think he preferred it. Meant I couldn’t fight back. ”
My heart aches for him. “Did he hit Jenni, too?”
“Before I got there, she was his punching bag. I became his new toy. He’d beat me until I was unconscious.” Gray’s voice sounds hollow.
I reach for his hand, squeezing it tight. “Why did nobody step in?”
He lets out a low, bitter laugh. “Because he would heal me afterward.”
“He was a healer?”
“Yeah. Taylor worked at the base with Fiona. He would beat me to the edge of death and then fix me up so nobody could know what he was doing.”
I swallow. Knowing that someone could be that cruel makes me sick to my stomach. “Did you try to tell anyone?”
“Only once. He broke my arm, but he was too boozed to heal it properly, so I went to lower school the next day and the teacher noticed I was in pain. She sent me to the valley clinic, but Taylor, the kind soul that he was,” Gray says sarcastically, “was out in the wards healing other people. Fiona flew down from the Dagger and healed my arm.” His voice wavers.
“When she asked what happened, I lied and said I fell.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I was ashamed. Didn’t want them to know how helpless I was.” He’s blinking faster now, his eyes misty. “That man was a sadistic prick. Always had to make sure I understood who was in charge—him. If I disobeyed or talked back to him, he showed me with his fists who was boss.”
I don’t want to crowd him, but I can’t stop myself from wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him tight. “I’m so sorry, ace.”
Gray inhales a deep breath, and I feel a shudder run through his chest.
“Jenni just stood by and watched.” Anger trembles in his voice, a fierce fire behind the hurt.
“I’d cry and beg her to help me, and she did nothing.
Sometimes, if I was crying too hard, she would leave the room.
She never said a single word. Never came to my defense.
Never pulled him off me. She’d mop up all the blood and pretend it never happened.
I was a little kid and my parents were gone, and she just fucking watched. ”
I hold him tighter. He’s shaking against me, his words muffled in my hair.
“And then the bastard dies and suddenly she’s trying to be some kind of maternal figure.
Wanting to cook me dinner, asking about my life.
That quat doesn’t deserve a place in my life.
” He pulls back and I can see the redness rimming his eyes, the throbbing of his pulse at the base of his throat. “It’s too late for that.”
“Sounds like it,” I agree quietly.
His jaw clenches. “You’re not gonna try to convince me to forgive her?”
“No. You should only forgive her if you feel the need to. But she was supposed to love and protect you. She did neither. So maybe the punishment she deserves is to not have you in her life anymore.”
“You believe that?”
“I believe forgiveness is overrated, and you should only do it for yourself, not the other person.”
“I don’t think I can,” he admits. “I think some things are unforgivable.”
I still feel sick at what he described. Being beaten to a pulp every night, only for his abuser to heal him and then do it all over again the next day. A cycle of abuse and healing. My heart cries for the little boy he’d been and the man he is now.
“I can’t even imagine going through something like that. But you don’t have to carry this alone.” I run my fingertips underneath his eyes and feel the wetness there. “I’m here whenever you need me.”
“I don’t like pity.” His voice is rough.
“This isn’t pity. It’s empathy. And it’s goddamn fury. I wish I could murder your uncle and, frankly, your aunt.”
“I can’t forgive her,” he says again, and I don’t know if he’s talking to me or himself.
“You don’t have to. Or one day you might decide you want to. Either way, it’s your choice. She failed you, but that’s on her. You get to choose the path forward for you, and you don’t have to carry the burden of her failure. That’s on her,” I repeat.
We stand there for a moment, silent. Gray has lowered his playful, cocky facade, which I now realize masks a lifetime of pain.
He lost his family when he was a child. His entire family.
I lost both my parents before the age of five, but I had Uncle Jim, who died to protect me.
Gray’s guardians did the opposite. His uncle was a monster, and his aunt protected him.
“Anyway, I wanted to show you…me, I guess.” He shrugs. “All of me.”
He looks uncomfortable and sad, yet I’ve never been more attracted to him. I’m attracted to strength, to resilience, and this man is one of the strongest and most resilient people I’ve ever met in my life.
“I’m glad you did,” I whisper, all the while wishing I could do the same in return.
We don’t speak much when we return to the Dagger.
“Your quarters?” is all I say, because I’m still in a single, and his bed is bigger and more comfortable. There’s no way I’m letting him sleep alone tonight.
“I need a shower,” he says.
“Same.” I raise a brow.
He gets the hint. This time, there’s no resistance.
Under the hot spray, I soap up his chest, enjoying the feel of his defined muscles sliding beneath my fingertips. Suds slide between his pecs, over his abs, trailing lower. When my hand follows the path of the water, I find him hard and ready for me.
I give his cock a light stroke before smiling at him and starting to soap myself up.
“Tease,” he accuses.
We wash up together, our hands taking liberties with each other’s bodies. When he cups my breast and tweaks the nipple, I moan, the sound muffled by the rush of the water. We switch places so I can shampoo my hair. He’s watching me. Eyes soft. Everything else hard.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says.
“No, you are,” I say.
“We’re both very attractive,” he agrees, and I laugh, because he never fails to make me laugh.