Grey: New Beginnings (Spectrum Series Book 5) Read online

  GREY 5:

  new beginnings

  Spectrum Series

  PART FIVE

  By Allison White

  Grey: New Beginnings

  Copyright © 2018 by Allison White.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: October 2018

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-460-0

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-460-8

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To my readers—

  I hope you’re ready for the next book.

  Table of Content

  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

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chaper Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Prologue

  Thunder clapped like a mighty tyrant, causing the roads to grow slick and strike down trees. Swerving in and out of slow cars ahead of him, Grey followed the ambulance. He received angry honks from people, but he didn’t give a shit. His girl was hurt. That was all that mattered. She shouldn’t have even gotten hurt in the first place. This is all my fucking fault, he thought angrily.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cursed rapidly and slammed his palms on the leather steering wheel.

  He stomped on the gas pedal and zoomed through a red light. A cop car blazed red and white behind him, chasing him. Gritting his teeth, he rode faster and curved the bend, leaving tire marks as lightning struck through the dark clouds. He could have sworn he saw the spiky teeth of a beast laughing down at him.

  Swerving the car in a parking lot, he jumped out and began running to the emergency exit, following Liv’s gurney, completely disregarding the cop car pulling up in front of him. He slid over the hood and never stopped running. Ignoring the protest of the pudgy cop behind him, he ran into the hospital and was greeted with loud noises of orders, screams of pain, and heart monitors.

  Fuck, do I hate hospitals.

  He swallowed back the childish statement and looked around. Where the fuck did they drag her to?

  “Get the defibrillators. Now,” a doctor ordered, and Grey whipped his head to the side and nearly crumpled into the ground beneath him.

  There, on the gurney between curtains, was his girl. Blood coated her lips, her eyes rolled in the back of her head, and her charm bracelet was hanging off of her wrist. Her bloody, bloody wrists.

  “Liv!” He screamed her name and ran over to the doctors huddled around her. He clawed through them and cupped her cheeks. Blood smeared off onto his fingers, and tears left his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I—I love you. Please don’t leave me.”

  “Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to back up,” a doctor said in a calm tone.

  “Fuck you, I’m not leaving her,” he snapped, glaring at the technician with wild eyes.

  “You! Come here!” The cop who chased after him clasped his hands around Grey’s shoulders and yanked him back. From his love.

  “Get the fuck off of me!” Angered, Grey spun around and threw his fist across the officer’s jaw. Before he could think about what he’d just done, he turned back around and lunged for his girl, but he was tackled to the ground before he could move an inch. Two buff security guards held him down, and he screamed and kicked and pleaded to see his girl. “Liv! Liv!”

  The doctors continued to bark orders and began to wheel her out of the room. All the while, tears filled his eyes, and dread consumed him whole. He thrashed and pleaded and begged and promised the world, if only they let him see his girl, possibly for the last time. But they never listened. And he didn’t see her body anymore. Only a silver shining on the floor ahead of him. Her charm bracelet.

  Chapter One

  Grey

  Olivia Westerfield is dead…

  To me.

  I fidget with the choking tie that is pressed against my neck. If I wanted to be choked out, I would just latch a fucking boa constrictor around me. At least then I would look cool. Well, cooler than I look now, because at this very moment, I look like a fucking accountant. And in what world are accountants actually cool? If you say Superman or some shit like that, I will actually choke you with this lame-ass tie.

  “Stop loosening it,” my beautiful, amazing, but Nerdstorm’s biggest fan, girlfriend commands.

  “I’m not loosening it,” I tell her, pushing the tie upward to my throat. “I’m actually trying to make it tighter…so I can choke and die so no one will see me in this ridiculous thing.”

  “You are such a grump.” She laughs.

  I turn around and watch as she zips up her black pencil skirt. It makes her short but sensually soft legs look sleek and made to be parted just for me. I drag my hungry eyes up her slender legs all the way up to her ruffled satin red blouse. A peek of cleavage makes my jaw tick.

  “You look sexy,” I tell her, and she blushes. “I’m serious…but almost too sexy. I think you should just pop on your glasses and play secretary for me.” I wink at her, and she tries to hide her gorgeous roundish face, which she coated in a bit of makeup—she’s been practicing for this day, like the natural perfectionist she is—but it isn’t enough to keep me away.

  “You are insane,” she says, her voice tight with hidden lust.

  “I’m a lot of things,” I say and cup my hands above her round ass. “But patient—” I tug her into my chest, and she raises a brow at me, hands splayed against my chest, “—is not one of them. I want to bend you over and fuck you, hard…but I can’t.”

  “You know why,” she says, voice low.

  “But—”

  “No buts.”

  I frown, doing m
y pouty lip routine. I’ve stolen that stupidly cute look she always uses on me to get what she wants. I do it every time I get super horny for fuckery, in hopes that she will finally break the doc’s number one rule and give in. I get it; she can’t have sex, not so soon after surgery, but still. A guy gets the feels for tomfoolery every once in a while. Gosh, I have got to stop letting my nonna talk to me, though she really calls to check up on Liv. Her vocabulary kills me.

  She gulps and turns around, bending over. “Dr. Reynold’s said no sex for a long—”

  You have to be kidding me. Her ass is on me; she’s in the perfect position. Just a few less clothes and boom—I’m in fuck-town.

  “…are you even listening to me?” she asks as she stands up.

  “Of course I am.” I stuff my hands in my dark dress pants I plan to set on fire later.

  “Listen, I know that with your disorder you have an excessive sex drive. I get that,” she says, her voice strained. “But I can’t risk anything happening. I was lucky that I survived what I did and the aftermath. I just…” She pauses as her eyes tear up. “I just want to be cleared and wait until I feel as though I am ready. I don’t want to add pressure along with school and this program and—”

  I take her hands and squeeze. I hate seeing her like this. Crying, feeling as though she’s weak. Even though she is, I want her to act like she’s the strongest woman on the planet because she is. Instead of giving up and letting go, she held on. And I couldn’t be any more envious of this strong, brave, and beautiful girl in front of me.

  “I will stop being a horn-dog, if you promise to be strong for me,” I say, and she smiles softly, looking up at me with teary blue eyes. “You will crush it today as you have been crushing school. I don’t think anyone could have dealt with school as you have post-surgery. Though I try to curb your perfectionist side, you have done the work and gotten cleared for what is truly important—the program.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice is muddled by emotion.

  I kiss both of her knuckles, never straying my eyes from hers. “You’re very welcome, princess.”

  She blushes the color of her shirt. “I’m still nervous. What if I make mistakes or am not good enough?”

  “I don’t want you to think like that,” I say sternly, and she bites her lip. I soften my face and voice; I just really believe in her. “Olivia Renee Westerfield, you are the most intelligent girl I know—”

  “I better be the only girl you know,” she jokes, and I laugh.

  “Trust me, you are the only girl I want to know.” I wink at her, and she sucks on her lip. “As I was saying, you are stupid smart, and you will actually kick some asses today when they see what an amazing addition they have. You will do great, nothing less.”

  She lets her lip go and sucks in a deep breath. “You think so?”

  “I know so.” I squeeze her hands lightly, and she grins. “I want to hear about everything when you come home.”

  “Same with you,” she says, stepping forward.

  “Oh, I’ll actually be shit.” I laugh and let go of her hands to drape around her waist.

  She walks into my chest, tsk-ing me. “You will do amazing. I have faith in you. Like—” She grips my tie and drags my lips down to hover over hers. “The biggest faith this world has ever seen.”

  “What if I don’t get the job?” I whisper, licking her lips.

  She shivers.

  “Then we rob banks,” she says and gently bites my lower lip.

  Can’t fuck her. Don’t fuck her. Stop thinking of fucking her…

  “Mmmm, like Bonnie and Clyde?” I ask, and she hums.

  “Without the dying at the hands of the police…yes.” She nods with a teasing smile on her full lips.

  I smile at her before closing the tiny, almost nonexistent, gap between us. Our lips meld like they’re made for each other, colliding and teasing each other. I lick her bottom lip and slip my tongue inside, deepening the kiss. I revel in her moan as I glide my tongue against hers and cup her face. I will never get tired of hearing her soft moans or how her tongue traces mine or how she feels so petite but wonderful in my arms.

  Nor will I ever grow used to the idea of how ridiculously much I adore this girl. The way she makes me feel is indescribable. The only possible way I can describe it is: complete, in every fucking cheesy way it sounds. I honestly couldn’t imagine a world where she doesn’t force me to wear ties or make me smile.

  “Mmmm, we should get going,” she says as she pulls away from my greedy lips.

  “No, I think we should stay.” I place kisses along her jaw, down to her neck.

  “No marks, I have to look presentable,” she pleads, bending her head backward.

  “Fine,” I groan, parting from her.

  “Good boy,” she chastises me with a wink.

  I grumble under my breath, and she laughs, slinking her purse over her shoulder. I watch with a knowing smirk as she talks to herself as she checks off her mental list, making sure she has everything she needs. She scurries around the room like a perfectionist chicken without her head.

  I, on the other hand, simply stuff my phone, wallet, and gum in my pockets. Girls, I think to myself.

  After a few minutes, she stands in front of me. “Okay, I think I have everything. Do I look all right?”

  “You look gorgeous, babe.” I lean down and peck her nose.

  “But presentable?” She tilts her head.

  Oh my…

  “Yes, Liv. You look presentable,” I assure her, but she checks out her appearance in the mirror anyway. Such a perfectionist. I walk over and tug her away from the mirror; she begins to whine. “You look great, babe. Trust me.” I kiss the top of her head, guiding her out of the bedroom and into the elevator shaft.

  “Maybe I should wear flats—” She begins to move to stop the elevator.

  “You’re fine with heels,” I tell her, firmly gripping her arms, keeping her in place. “Plus I packed some portable flats in your purse thing.”

  She gazes up at me, mouth agape. “You did?” She rummages through her purse and laughs quietly. “You did…”

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat, avoiding her shocked expression. “I don’t know why you’re shocked. I’ve been taking care of you ever since the…incident. I know how much heels make your feet hurt, so I just put some backup flats in your purse. No big whoop.” I shrug.

  “You’ve become such a softie,” she croons, poking my side.

  “Stop that.” I grunt and step out when the elevator comes to a complete stop. She isn’t wrong, though. I’ve become completely soft-hearted, but only for her sake.

  My girl has been through so much pain, both physically and emotionally. By her side as she healed was me, her friends—minus the fucking rat I didn’t trust in the first place—her caretaker, and her father. That was it. Her mother never came. Not once. Even my fucked-up mother called from a fucking asylum, yet her own mother didn’t visit her daughter who had been shot, presumed not going to make it.

  I want to condemn the woman. What kind of mother does something like that, first ambush their child and have them taken to the hospital to brainwash them, and most fucking importantly, not visit their child who was shot during a massacre led by a fucking gang? She does not deserve to be called Liv’s mother. That’s why I had Liv completely change her phone and number—her phone still had the crack from our trip to Venezuela—so that devil of a woman can’t call her. Only me, of course, and a few other people like her true friends—for now, I’m watching them closely—have her number. I can’t risk my princess getting hurt, not on my watch.

  “Have fun at work.” I smile sarcastically at her as I pull up in front of the incredibly tall and kind of intimidating glass building. The words TSC, which I’m sure stands for some stupid shit, are huge and spread out on the top floor. How many floors are there? I can barely see the top. How many floors does one building need? Damn.

  “It’s a program,” she corrects. “And you h
ave fun trying to get a job. I believe in you.” She reaches over and grabs my tie, pulling me to her lips. I savor her sweet lips because, very soon, I will be interviewed for a shitty job to be something, I don’t really remember what, all because I have an even shittier manager.

  Since David decided to be a dick-weeb and stay in Miami, I had to get a new manager. The one I got is this bigshot in the MMA industry, but the fucker hasn’t booked me an official MMA gig since I won the tournament. He says he’ll get me something by the end of this week, but I highly doubt the fucker can actually do his goddamn job.

  “Okay, I have to go,” she exclaims, throwing the door open. “I don’t want to be involved.”

  “Don’t go,” I plead, pulling her back into my chest, nipping at her lower lip. “I’ll pay you to be my girlfriend.” I twirl a piece of her curled hair, and she laughs, kissing my jaw.

  “I already am your girlfriend, for free. And it’s not a job,” she points out.

  “Fine.” I pull away and face the road, crossing my arms. “Have fun. Bye.”

  “Don’t be childish.” She pinches my cheek.

  “Pick you up at four,” I promise, pecking her cheek. Oh fuck it, I’m going to be kissing a douche in khakis’ ass for a while. I kiss her on the lips, and she moans about having to leave. I quickly suck just under her jaw to mark her. Did you actually think I wasn’t going to mark my girl before sending her off to some foreign place?

  “Ugh, Grey!” She pulls back and glares at me.

  “Have a nice day, babe.” I wink at her.

  “You’re insufferable.”

  “You’re going to be late.”

  She gives me one last look that makes me “shake in my boots” before getting out. I watch as she stares up at the building, obviously intimidated. I hover my hand over my door handle, ready to jump out and take her back home, blowing off the job interview. But she shakes out her hands, holds her head up, and confidently strides up to the building.