The Gamble: A Christian Novel

The Gamble

Dayo Benson

Copyright

The Gamble: The Dare Series

© Copyright 2017 by Dayo Benson

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission from the author. The only exception is brief quotations in a book review.

Some Scripture is taken from the New King James Version of the Bible.

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From the Back Cover

Love never gives up

Marshal: Maybe I'm crazy, but I can't let Sloane go. She's at an all-time low and Miss World is coming up, but she doesn't have a game plan. I've helped her in the past, so Miss World might just be my opportunity to win her heart again. This time, I'm not going to let her go.

Parents know best

Eli: Marshal still hasn't gotten over his pathetic crush on Sloane. As his father, it's my duty to do what's best for him. Even if it means further ruining Sloane's already messed up life, and even if it means that Marshal will hate me forever.

My life is a nightmare that I can't wake up from

Sloane: I thought I hit rock bottom last summer, but this is a whole new level of defeat. I've let Marshal get under my skin again and that choice has blown up in my face. Life is crushing me. I'm drowning. And I don't know how to save myself.

Chapter 1: Sloane

I'd never understood what drove people to commit shocking crimes, like murder, until my dad tried to kill Eli Aaronson.

If I thought I would get away with it, I would try, too.

This thought had dominated my mind constantly for months. At first, it'd been shocking to me, but being unable to get rid of it, I had to accept that this was who I'd become. It didn't make me a bad person. It only made me honest. Most people would kill if they could be certain they'd never get caught—even people who went to church every Sunday and sat in the pews looking all angelic as they listened to the sermon. Everyone had a 'wish they were dead' list. It didn't make me a bad person.

Eli Aaronson had stolen so much from me. My mom was dead because of him. My dad was in jail because of him. Marshal and I broke up because of him.

I hated him.

I sat in my car across the road from the church I'd grown up attending. I watched people stream from the parking lot and into the building. I hadn't been inside that church for almost a year. Pastor Bill had called me a few times since my mom's death but I'd never answered.

I looked at my dashboard clock. I had just over an hour until the Miss Elegance pageant. Nia, my beautician, would be waiting at the venue to do my makeup. She'd already called me five times, no doubt wondering where I was. She'd be freaking out. Usually, I woke up at four a.m. if I had a pageant. Today, I'd dragged myself out of bed at nine-fifteen, just thirty minutes ago.

What am I doing here?

I stared at the vast entrance to the church. Sadie and my friends, Grace, Rhiannon, and Taylor, would be inside. Since Sadie was only home on weekends, Grace, Taylor, and Rhiannon had moved in with us. They'd all left for church just as I was waking up. Grace and Rhiannon had stopped partying after we finished college, and they were consistently attending church now and everything.

Everyone's lives were falling into place while mine was crumbling.

I switched on my car, fully intending to drive away, but something made me hesitate. Regardless of my attempts to convince myself that my hatred towards Eli Aaronson didn't make me a bad person, I was terrified.

But he shouldn't be allowed to go scot free.

Eli ought to pay for what he'd done. Or maybe I just needed somebody to blame. If I'd just forgiven my mom and handled things better, maybe she would still be alive, and maybe my dad wouldn't be in jail.

I tried to clamp down on the pain that erupted in my heart. I did the best I could, taking each day as it came, but the pain was worsening, constantly bubbling close to the surface. If I wasn't careful, something was going to happen. Something terrible. I was losing it. Losing myself.

My dad had told me about Marshal's Uncle Isaac's role in everything. He hadn't mentioned Uncle Isaac to the police because he would have tried to kill Eli even if Isaac had never gotten in touch with him. I disagreed. My dad wasn't like that. Isaac had planted the seed in his mind.

Both Eli and his brother Isaac deserved to die.

I groaned. I can't think like this.

In an instant, my mind was made up. I had to speak to somebody. I couldn't talk to my friends. They wouldn't know what to say to me. I couldn't talk to a counselor either. I didn't trust a counselor not to judge me or have me sectioned when I confessed my dangerous thoughts. Pastor Bill would be able to help me. At the very least, he could pray for me.

Although I'd spent the past few months trying to convince myself that I no longer believed in God, I still did. He was out there. Telling myself that He wasn't didn't change the fact that He was.

I switched off the car and got out. I didn't make eye contact with anybody as I hurried into the church. An usher tried to direct me into the hall but I ignored him and headed down the corridor that led to Pastor Bill's office.

He would be busy, as the service would be starting in a few minutes. But I needed help. I knocked on the door.

A moment later, it swung open. I looked up into Pastor Bill's weathered face and kind eyes. He looked shocked to see me. Sloane!

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Pastor Bill's wife, Hannah, appeared from behind him. She took one look at me and then dragged me into the office and shut the door. She scanned my face with concerned brown eyes. Is everything okay, dear?

I nodded quickly, but I guessed it was pretty obvious that everything wasn't okay.

How are you holding up? Hannah asked, leading me to a seat.

Tears filled my eyes as I sat down. Fine, I managed.

We've been asking Sadie about you, Hannah said. And we've been praying for you.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. I had to be quick here if I was going to make it to Miss Elegance. I, uh, have a pageant at eleven, but I just wanted to stop by.

Well, let's make this quick then, Pastor Bill said, coming to join us. He sat down at his desk and nailed me with a look. Why are you here?

Hannah sat down beside me and placed an arm around my shoulders. It'd been so long since I'd let anyone get that close to me physically that I almost jumped up from the seat and ran out.

I dragged in a deep breath. I…uh…think I'm suffering from depression.

That's totally natural, Sloane, Hannah said softly. Considering all that's happened. You need to stop isolating yourself and let people in.

What else? Pastor Bill asked, his gaze seeming to bore right through me.

How did he know there was something else?

I, uh, need to forgive Eli Aaronson.

His brows lifted.

But I can't.

And? he prompted.

I…want him dead.

Oh, Sloane, Hannah said softly. She obviously didn't get it if she was still being kind to me.

I want to kill him, I blurted. I can't get the thought off my mind. I'm scared that I'm going to do something stupid.

Killing him won't make you happy, Sloane, Hannah said, not batting an eye. That's the same trap your dad fell into, honey.

Ugh! I didn't want her to be kind to me. Tears filled my eyes.

Since you're in a hurry, we won't take too much of your time but we'll get you signed up for bereavement counseling. It's helped your sister a lot.

Sadie had told me about the counseling. She'd asked me to attend with her, but I'd declined so she'd been going with Jayden, her boyfriend.

Counseling is great, Pastor Bill said. But there's something the Holy Spirit does in a believer called 'renewing of the mind'.

I nodded, blinking back tears.

He's also a Comforter, Pastor Bill added. You need to get back on track with God and let Him heal you in the places no human wisdom can reach.

I've been trying to read the Bible…whenever things get really bad, I told them.

Pastor Bill smiled. Yeah, there's this verse that says 'Thy Word have I hid in my…head?'

No, in my heart, I corrected.

Pastor Bill nodded. Exactly, Sloane. When your head is full but your heart is empty, you need to pray. You can keep reading the Bible, but you also need to break your silence with God and with godly people who can help you.

Yes, sir. I clasped my car keys in my hands. Pastor Bill had a service to start in a few minutes, and I had a pageant to get to. I stood. Thank you. I'll try to…break my silence.

He nodded.

Hannah rose and followed me as I walked out. She took my hand once we were in the hallway. I could tell she was concerned about me.

So what pageant are you doing today? she asked me, as we walked towards the main entrance.

Miss Elegance. It's only a small one. I'm doing two more small pageants in preparation for Miss World.

How long do you have left until Miss World?

Two weeks. The thought of that was totally scary. The whole competition would be a month-long series of challenge events. I'd been preparing as much as my depression would allow, but I didn't feel ready.

Maybe I hadn't pushed myself partly because Clarice, my agent, had managed to book Anton Smirnov to coach me. His crazy fees would be covered by government funding. We were going to start work on Wednesday. He was giving me only two weeks of his time. Apparently, that would be enough. He'd coached Olympic athletes and lots of the world's elite businesspeople and all kinds of successful people. From what I'd read about him, his methods were intense, and they worked. I couldn't wait to get started with him.

You'll do great, Hannah told me as we entered the entranceway. I know you will.

Thank you, ma'am.

As she hugged me, I heard the door to the sanctuary open. I glanced over my shoulder as Hannah released me. My heart stopped as my gaze connected with the tall, dark-haired man emerging from the sanctuary.

Marshal!

I knew he attended church here, but the church was so big I hadn't expected to see him—especially because I wasn't actually attending the service.

Please stop by as often as you need to, Hannah was saying.

I dragged my gaze away from Marshal and forced myself to smile at Hannah.

Can I give you my number? she asked.

I can get it from Sadie, I replied.

Okay. Call me anytime, Sloane. I will drop everything and come.

Thanks. I appreciate that.

She hugged me again and then returned down the hallway.

I hoped Marshal had gone. I hadn't heard footsteps or the main door open. Was he still standing behind me?

I turned.

My heart wobbled. He was still there; this intense look in his dark eyes. I tried not to notice that he looked as gorgeous as ever. I didn't care.

We'd developed a kind of friendship in the months leading up to my mom's death, and he'd been real sweet when my mom died. I didn't want to care about him as anything more than a friend anymore.

I wanted to move on.

Chapter 2: Marshal

For a moment, I felt like my eyes were playing tricks on me.

Sloane was here? In church?

I let my gaze trail over her. She was an absolute vision. She seemed to get more beautiful every time I saw her. However, I noted the strain in her eyes, the hard set of her jaw, and the stress lines that creased her forehead.

What was she doing in church? Did I dare believe the prodigal had returned?

She took a step toward the door.

Sloane.

She didn't stop.

I followed her out. It's great to see you.

She didn't reply.

I reached out and grabbed her arm gently, making her stop. I turned her to face me. It was a dismal day in early November but looking into Sloane's eyes, I felt warmth spread through me. Which was stupid, because the way she was looking at me right now, it was obvious I was the last person she wanted to see.

Did you come for the service? I asked. Don't leave because of me. I'm leaving anyway.

No, I have a pageant, she said, looking away from me. I just wanted to speak to the pastor briefly.

That was a good sign.

I waited for her to ask why I was leaving.

She didn't. She stepped away from me. I need to hurry.

She shrugged off my hand and hurried over to her car, which was parked at the curb.

Sloane, wait—

I'm running late, Marshal. She jumped into her car and sped away.

The warmth that had filled my heart a moment ago was snuffed out by the coldness that instantly settled in my bones.

My cell phone buzzed. I dug it out. It was my dad again. He was calling this time. I didn't answer. He'd sent me a text two minutes ago, telling me he needed me to come over immediately because he'd fallen. I'd replied that I was on my way. He didn't need to call me.

I made my way to the parking lot and got into my car. I was willing to bet my dad hadn't fallen. I was going to miss church this morning for nothing.

***

As predicted, my dad was totally fine. There was no evidence that he'd had a fall, but I stayed anyway. He hadn't been right since the car wreck when Kurt, Sloane's dad, tried to murder him. He'd become even more aggressive than normal. Worst of all were his mood swings. He'd be manically elated one minute and then severely depressed the next.

I'd been on his back to see his doctor. He'd finally given in two months ago and had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

He'd lost a lot of blood after the car wreck and his brain had been starved of oxygen. Now, he'd never be completely right again except for a miracle.

He was coping well, though. In his moments of stability, he was still able to run his businesses, and wine and dine women—mostly married women. He'd told me he preferred them married since it meant there'd be no strings attached. He'd learned nothing from what had happened with Lottie and Kurt Golding.

I fixed him breakfast and then made myself scarce in the library. I had work to do.

I still didn't know whether I'd completely forgiven my dad for all the things he'd done. He'd broken up my relationship with Sloane, although these days I'd decided to take responsibility for that. He'd only been able to break us up because I hadn't been honest with her. He'd also hurt Sloane's family in ways I didn't think Sloane would ever forgive. Then there was the issue with Uncle Isaac and Aunt Shay. They'd lost Christy. My dad had refused to help them out with the money they needed for her surgery. They might have lost her anyway, but the fact that my dad had refused to help and had been conspicuously absent at her funeral was unforgivable.

I stared at the computer. Who was I kidding? I wasn't going to be able to focus on work after seeing Sloane.

I moved to the sofa in a corner of the library. It could be turned into a bed, and it faced a widescreen TV. I sighed as I grabbed the TV remote and switched it on. I settled down and checked whether Sloane's pageant was on TV.

After a few moments of searching, I found it. I figured that Miss Elegance wouldn't usually be televised, but since Sloane was in it, a local channel must have bought the rights. The media was obsessed with her and Sadie right now. I hoped Sloane was blocking it all out.

Since I knew that pageants were always pretty long, I grabbed a spare laptop and got to work. I had a dozen applications to my coaching consultancy that I needed to go through, but they could wait because one of my clients, Talia Matthews, was in the final of the TV Talent show, Rising Stars. The final would be aired live this evening. We'd be having our final coaching session at noon.

I looked through my notes and mentally rehearsed everything I was going to say to Talia. She had what it took to win. She just had to keep it together and sing like her life depended on it.

Unfortunately, Talia had a knack for freaking out and losing focus. I needed to whip her into shape when I saw her. I'd also assured her that I'd be in the audience. I bought my ticket months ago as a gesture of my confidence that she was going to make it to the final.

I kept an eye on Sloane's progress for the next hour while I worked.

As I was packing up to leave for my meeting with Talia, my dad appeared in the doorway. He had some new patches of gray in his hair and new lines on his face. He'd been in an okay mood when I first arrived, but a dullness in his eyes told me a low mood was coming.

Have you taken your medication? I asked him.

I don't need any medication, he snapped.

I wasn't in the mood to get into it with him. I'd speak to him some other time when his mood had stabilized and warn him about the importance of him taking his drugs.

Seeing my father like this was a little scary. He'd always been strong and commanding, and he still was, but this illness was changing him. He was becoming more vulnerable, although he didn't seem to know it. In fact, he was pretty resistant to the fact that his condition was anything to be worried about.

Is that Sloane Golding? he asked, glaring at the TV.

I didn't reply. Of course, it was Sloane Golding.

My dad snorted. What is she thinking? She's never going to win Miss World. In fact, signing up is a tremendous act of hubris on her part.

A blind man can see that Sloane is beautiful. I tried to keep the edge out of my voice. I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

Ayla is still on the market, Marshal.

I didn't reply. My dad knew I wasn't interested in Ayla. When was he going to stop harboring the hope that I would marry her?

Where are you going? my dad asked.

I have a meeting with a client.

On a Sunday?

Yes.

My dad gave me a dubious look as though he thought I was lying and just didn't want to spend time with him. I didn't want to spend time with him but I wasn't lying.

Are you still trying to be a coach? My dad's gaze became mocking. Let me know when you decide you want a real job. I have lots of great roles you can choose from.

I said nothing although it stung. I'd dreamed of being a performance coach ever since I watched my first Olympics. I'd been more interested in the people behind the athletes who didn't let them despair, convinced them that they could win a medal, and helped them to succeed than I was in the athletes themselves.

My job might not make me a billionaire like my dad, but there was good money to be earned as a performance coach. Especially if I was able to distinguish myself and become one of the top coaches in the world—which was my aim.

It might not be as sexy and glamourous as casinos, but I wasn't my dad. I was me. And I was going to walk my own path, run my own race.

I headed towards the door. Take your meds, dad.

All this coaching nonsense, he muttered as he stepped out of my way.

He also muttered something about impending bankruptcy and how he just knew he was going to have to bail out my lousy coaching company sometime.

I could get mad at him but I knew he wasn't well. I blocked it out.

Later, dad.

***

Talia was a bag of nerves. I had to be the hardest I'd ever been on her, but it was worth it because she won. I watched amongst a roaring crowd of fifty thousand people as she was announced the winner of Rising Stars.

Tears welled up in my eyes. It was an effort to hold them back. Joy, relief, and gratitude to God filled me. I'd spent a crazy amount of time praying that God would enable me to help Talia to win. She was the first official client of my coaching consultancy, and I'd helped her achieve her goal.

There'd been many difficult days in the past six months, and many dark nights when I wondered whether this would work. Whether I should just swallow my pride, give up on my ambitions, and go work for my dad. The last thing I wanted was to fail or, God forbid, have my dad bail me out financially.

Talia thanked a whole host of people in her 'winner's speech' and then tearfully thanked me for 'believing in her and yelling at her.'

I'd known Talia could do it. The hard work