A Reason to Leave

by Melissa Ellen

  A REASON TO LEAVE

  BOOK THREE

  MELISSA ELLEN

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Melissa Ellen

  Cover Copyright © 2017 by Melissa Ellen

  Cover Background Copyright © 2017 by istockphoto/saknakorn

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

  Second Edition: October 2017

  Printed in the United States of America

  CONTENTS

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Thank You

  Coming Soon

  Acknowledgments

  BLACKWOOD SERIES

  A REASON TO STAY

  THE ONLY ONE

  A REASON TO LEAVE

  FOREVER YOURS

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  www.melissaellenwrites.com

  melissaellenwrites@gmail.com

  PROLOGUE

  LIAM STONE…

  I stared at her bruised face as she sat across the table from me looking on edge, void of all emotion, refusing to speak first. As much as I wanted to blame her for my being here, I couldn’t. It was my own fucking fault. Not that I regret it. I would do it again. The bastard fucking deserved it. I had dreamt of doing it for years, and despite landing myself here, it was worth it.

  “I’m not bailing you out,” she said, breaking the silence between us, glancing at the handcuffs that were locked around my wrists.

  “I didn’t ask you to,” I sneered.

  “Well, just so we’re clear. You’re on your own. You shouldn’t have come back. You should’ve minded your own fucking business.”

  Of course. Why would I ever expect her to thank me? Or I don’t know, defend my actions against her fucking asshole of a husband? She was right. I shouldn’t have shown back up. For some reason, I thought she needed saving. I was fucking stupid for thinking I could do just that. She obviously didn’t want to be saved. And she obviously didn’t want me. She was choosing him. Again.

  “When you get out, stay away. Don’t come back. I don’t need you fucking things up for me.”

  “Fucking things up for you? I didn’t think that was possible,” I glared at her. She turned her gaze from me momentarily.

  “I mean it. Stay. Away.”

  A deep hate manifested inside me. I didn’t think it was possible for me to ever hate anyone this much. Let alone her. But I was done. Done fucking trying to be there for her. To help give her a better life. She was on her own. If she ended up dead, I would no longer feel guilty. I tried. Fuck her and her fucking prick husband.

  I leaned my forearms on the table, angling my upper body forward, letting my eyes penetrate hers. The hate and anger radiating off me. She shifted uncomfortably, but her stupid pride kept her from taking her eyes off me.

  “Don’t bother ever coming to see me again. You stay out of my fucking life. I will stay out of yours,” I promised her. “You’re dead to me.”

  She flinched with my words and her face dropped. I have no idea why. I was giving her what she asked for. The hardness returned to her face instantly. I didn’t wait for her response. I turned my head, nodding at the guard that I was ready to return to my cell. I was finished with this conversation. Finished with her.

  CHAPTER 1

  “Keys.”

  “Jim will take you.”

  “Keys, Rhett,” I demanded again with my palm out, wagging my impatient fingers at my overbearing, slightly obnoxious, arrogant but still lovable, older brother.

  He gave me his hard determined stare, not relinquishing the keys he was holding hostage in his hand. If I thought I had a chance of overpowering him by forcefully removing them from his clutches, I would. He was trying my patience. I was going to be late for my audition if he didn’t give them to me in the next few minutes.

  “Ava already said I could borrow the car.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “It’s her car,” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “We’re married. It’s our car.”

  “I don’t have time for this Rhett. I’m going to be late. Give me the keys,” I tried one more time, resisting the urge to stomp my feet in frustration like a spoiled brat. Because I was not a spoiled brat. At least, I was doing my best these days to not be a spoiled brat. I was now a mature adult who was making a name for herself.

  “Give her the keys, babe,” Ava came to my rescue as she waddled into the room dressed for work.

  I loved my sister-in-law. For the most part, she always teamed up with me against my difficult brother, knowing how it was to be on this side of his over-protective and frustrating demands. He kissed her temple as she made it to his side. Then wrapped his arm around her, resting his palm on her growing belly as he pulled her into him.

  “How did you sleep?” he asked her, fondly staring into her eyes. The two of them were sickening. But it still warmed my heart watching them interact. I would never admit that out loud, though.

  “Terrible,” she said with a disgruntled look. “I would say I’m looking forward to this baby being out of me, so I can have a good night’s rest…but I know that won’t be the case. I may never have a good night’s sleep again.”

  “I will make sure you do. You aren’t doing this alone.”

  “Oh really? Did you grow breasts overnight so you can do night feedings?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Point taken,” he said, chuckling as he kissed her on her head. “We’ll figure something out.” He turned her in his arms as he nuzzled her neck and loved on her some more. I crinkled my nose. Yuck.

  “Hellooo…still here. Still need the keys,” I reminded them, wanting to get out of here before their PDA became more than I could handle. He turned back to me annoyed by my interruption.

  “Not a dent,” he warned.

  “Got it.”

  “Not a scratch.”

  “Got it. Give me the keys.” I tried swiping them from his hand, missing them as he dangled them above my head just out of my reach.

  “Not even a dirt smudge.”

  “Seriously?” I huffed.

  He smirked.

  “Rhett,” Ava sighed, rolling her eyes at him, “just give Val the keys. I’m sure she will take good care of it.”

  “Tell that to her first two cars,” he muttered.

  “Hey! That is so unfair! Neither one of those incidents were my fault!”

  He looked at me unconvinced, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “They weren’t,” I pouted.

  It was true. They were so not my fault. It was not my fault a squirrel decided to dash out in front of my car unexpecte
dly.

  I had to swerve to miss the fear stricken momma squirrel or her babies would have grown up as orphans. And I, for one, wouldn’t have been able to live with myself knowing that. I mean, would you? It also was not my fault that there was a parked car that I hit to miss the poor, desperate, little squirrel. Who parks their car on a residential street, anyways, when there was a perfectly empty drive way to park in? You are just asking for your car to get side swiped.

  And this time around, my car was only in the shop because some old man, who definitely should not be driving, decided to back into me. Never mind that I was parked in a no parking zone. That was just semantics. He hit me.

  “I mean it, Val. Anything happens to this car, you will force me to take your driving privileges away,” Rhett threatened.

  “You can’t do that. I’m an adult. I’m twenty-one,” I said firmly, standing my ground. His threat didn’t scare me. Well….maybe it did a little. He was an unfairly determined bastard.

  He cocked his disapproving eyebrow at me, “Almost twenty-one. And try me.”

  “My birthday is only a few days away. I’m basically twenty-one. And you can’t take my driving privileges away. Right, Ava?” I turned to her for support. She shrugged her shoulders being no help at all. Thanks a lot. “Whatever. Just give me the keys already. You’re making me late for my audition. If I miss another one, my agent is going to drop me.”

  He gave me one more warning look as he reluctantly placed the keys in my hand. “Be careful. Car aside, I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

  “Thanks!” I stood on my tiptoes to give him a peck on his cheek. “And I will,” I said, rushing out of their Malibu home to leave.

  “Don’t forget, dinner with Mom and Dad on Sunday for your birthday,” he yelled after me as I rushed towards the front door.

  “I won’t!” I waved as I darted out the door before he changed his mind and tackled me for the keys.

  I cruised down the Pacific Coast Highway headed back into L.A. for my audition. I drove only slightly over the speed limit, hoping it was enough to still make it on time. I wasn’t kidding about my agent on the verge of dropping me. She had already warned me if I missed this one, she was no longer “wasting her time on me.” She only had time for clients who were going to “take their acting seriously.”

  As if I wasn’t. I knew she, like many who knew my last name and where I came from, thought I was just a spoiled rich girl, living off daddy’s money. Never mind that I had been busting my butt the last few years to make it on my own.

  Besides letting my parents cover my tuition and the expensive apartment that my brother had forced me to live in, I had been covering all my own expenses by taking a job as a barista in a local coffee shop. The same job that was consistently making me miss or late to auditions - a classic catch-22 situation.

  I did this all while taking on a full load at school, year round, in attempt to graduate early and kick-start my acting career. Without the help of my family’s connections, I might add. I wanted my career to be built on my talent, not my name.

  This was the first summer I hadn’t taken summer courses. I only had one semester left this fall in order to graduate. This summer, I planned to have some fun and focus on auditions.

  I rarely touched my trust fund. Only in emergencies did I dip into it. Those emergencies usually were car related emergencies….buying a new one or repairing it. Like now. My car was in the body shop, getting repaired where the old man had t-boned me…so not my fault.

  Once I moved to California, I tried my best to hide my upbringing from people. I know that sounds terrible. I know that sounds ungrateful. I’m not. I love my family. I appreciate everything they have done for me and still do for me. The problem is all that wealth comes with a certain stigma. People judge you before even knowing you. They also tend to use you. Use you to make themselves look better and get ahead in their own social standings.

  I was done being used. I was done trusting that people wanted to be friends with me for me or guys would love me for me. I had learned the hard way I couldn’t trust people as long as they thought they could gain something from my name.

  Hence, the reason I downplayed who I was. A Blackwood. The daughter of two of New York’s wealthiest socialites, Charles and Vivian Blackwood, and sister to the famed, young CEO of Blackwood Industries, Rhett Blackwood.

  There was only one person I confided in about my upbringing after moving from New York. My roommate, Lexie.

  We originally met working together at the coffee shop, Sweet Beans. We hit it off, and she became my closest friend and only confidant besides Ava. I didn’t tell her immediately about my family. I actually hid it from her as long as I could.

  But once she became my roommate, there was no other way to explain how I could afford my luxurious apartment on a minimum wage salary, and why she didn’t need to pay me for rent. She paid me what she could anyways. That was the type of person she was. She didn’t feel right living rent free. She was my one true friend.

  She was confused by my secrecy, at first, until I explained what I had went through my senior year of high school and the summer that followed. Something I have tried to put out of my mind and forget about but still hurt me deeply. Deeply enough for me to place mistrust in everyone, besides my own family and now Lexie.

  I glanced at the clock on the car dash and began to relax as I got closer to Interstate 10. I was going to actually make it on time. Finally. Something was going right for me.

  Boom!

  What the hell was that? “Oh, no…no, no. Please, no.” I started to panic as the car began vibrating and tugged to the right. “You have to be kidding me!” I slowed the car, pulling over on the highway shoulder.

  I opened the driver’s door cautiously, stepping out of the car to investigate the situation. I walked around to the passenger side, seeing a deflated front tire that looked like a smashed chocolate donut.

  Shit. Shit. Damn it. Shit. I cursed expletives in my head out of forced habit. Rhett had always gotten onto me about verbalizing profanity. I never quite understood his hang up about it. He once told me I was too pure at heart and beautiful of a girl to use such language. Whatever the hell that meant.

  Now what? I pulled out my phone, staring at it. Who was I going to call? I bit the corner of my bottom lip as I thought. There was no way I was calling Rhett. I would never hear the end of it. And this was definitely not my fault. Lexie was covering my shift today, so I could make the audition, which meant she wouldn’t be able to help me out either.

  “Crud. Dang it. Stupid, stupid crappy tire,” I said, kicking the deflated puddle of rubber.

  “Those are some fiery words.” I nearly jumped out of my skin hearing the deep, gruff voice from behind me. “I think you might’ve hurt its feelings.”

  I rotated, throwing my hands on my hips to glare at the amused voice behind me that I hadn’t even heard or seen approach due to being too distracted by my current dilemma. I was ready to fire off my smart-ass retort when I was struck by the vision of him.

  My words got trapped in my throat as my eyes swept up his muscular body that was hugged by worn jeans sitting on a lean waist. His form fitting black t-shirt did a poor job of concealing his chiseled chest and revealed his strong biceps that where accented with the black ink of a tribal tattoo peeking out from his sleeve.

  As my eyes kept traveling north, it only got better. His square jaw was lined with stubble, his eyes a beautiful, crisp grey and his hair a messy, dirty blonde. I instantly pictured myself running my fingers through that hair and holding on tight. My core clenched at the thought as my tummy fluttered.

  I made myself focus on his eyes, trying to curb the unfamiliar urges taking over my body. His eyes were doing their own inspection of me, and when they met mine, they temporarily widened with recognition and then narrowed into a seething glare as they glanced between me and Ava’s fancy, black Bentley GT. What the hell was his problem?

  I wondered if ma
ybe he recognized who I was. It didn’t happen as often in California as it did on the East Coast, but it did happen occasionally. He didn’t seem the type to keep up with tabloids, though, with his bad boy vibe. Also, most people didn’t glare at me with distaste when they realized who I was. Their eyes normally lit up with their own greedy intentions.

  His body went rigid as I continued to hold his gaze.

  “Can I help you?” I spit out annoyed by his disapproving look.

  “Help me? It looks like you’re the one in need of some help,” he huffed as he glanced at my flat tire, crossing those strong arms across his rock hard chest.

  “Well are you going to help me or did you just stop to taunt me?” I crossed my own arms across my ample chest, suddenly feeling the need to shield myself as his eyes continued to scan my figure.

  I normally boasted my body. I knew I was attractive, and I took pleasure in knowing I could get what I wanted from most men with a sway of my hips. I rarely used the tactic, though.

  “Are you asking for help, princess?”

  Princess? Asshole. Now I understood his loathing. He had already pinned me as a spoiled, rich girl. There is no denying that I come from money, but he didn’t even know me. Typical.

  “No,” I said defiantly, suddenly not wanting his help even if I needed it.

  “Really?” he snorted, amused. “You sure about that?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him exactly where he could go – to hell – but before I could respond my cell phone rang, interrupting me. I glanced down at the phone and groaned. Shit.

  “Hi, Donna!” I tried saying cheerfully to my bitch of an agent, while turning my back on the cocky, sexy jerk who still had his judging eyes on me.

  “Valerie, where the hell are you?”

  “I’ve had a bit of car trouble.”

  “Of course you did.” I could picture her rolling her eyes through the phone. “You missed another audition. We are done.”

  “Wait, Donna! You can’t. I was on my way there when I got a flat tire. This was not my fault.”