Finding Serenity (The Unexpected Love Series Book 2)

by Black, T. E.

  The chick whose name I don’t remember saunters up to Ryleigh and me, placing her groomed hand on my shoulder and kissing my cheek without hesitation.

  “Hey, Trent! Funny meeting you here, again!” she beams with a small giggle.

  “Hey …” I fall short on her name.

  “Kimberly. It’s okay. You were pretty screwed up. How’s everything going, though? Did you get the girl? I’ve been dying to know! I was going to call you, but I didn’t have your number!”

  Ryleigh lets out a sarcastic huff from behind the bar, walking away to tend to her other customers.

  I look over Kimberly’s shoulder only to see Shay staring daggers at her back. I grab her by the wrist, pulling her to the side and out of earshot.

  “Look, ya can’t say shit about what we did that night. I got the girl, and she doesn’t know about my habits. She’s looking at ya like she’s about to rip off your head for touching me, so I’m gonna introduce ya to her. But please don’t say jack shit about the blow. Can ya do that, Kimberly?” I beg.

  She looks at me with saddened eyes, pressing her hand to my chest again. This time, the touch is more for comfort than friendliness.

  “I won’t tell her. I promise. You were cool enough to let me crash on your couch. It’s the least I can do. I can meet her, though? Really!” She changes her tone.

  “Yeah but calm the fuck down. She’s probably still thinkin’ something happened between us so tread lightly. All right? For your own good, not mine.”

  As if Shay can read my mind, she’s already walking toward the two of us and she’s wicked pissed. Shay stops behind Kimberly, tapping her shoulder with her manicured nail. I let out a chuckle when Kimberly’s face pales a little.

  “Here’s your chance,” I confirm.

  Kimberly spins around, a huge gasp coming from her before she wraps her arms around Shay in a hug.

  “Oh, my God! You’re Shay?” she shrieks.

  I let out a deep laugh while Shay stares at me in shock over Kimberly’s shoulder.

  “You’re beautiful!”

  “Uh ... thank you,” Shay mumbles.

  Kimberly lets go, moving back toward me next to the bar. She takes a seat on a barstool, sipping on her drink she set down before.

  “Nice to meet you! I’m Kimberly! I’m so happy you gave him a chance, Shay! Trent is such a sweet guy. We stayed up almost all night while he babbled about the girl he was madly in love with! I can’t believe you two hated each other so much before!”

  Shay looks at me; her eyes squinted.

  “So you’re the girl who slept over at his house but didn’t fuck him?” she snarls.

  Kimberly stares back at her with wide eyes. She puts her hands up, shaking her head back and forth.

  “God, no! I didn’t sleep with him. I swear. That may have been my intention at first, but he stopped me. I won’t lie. I tried to kiss him at his house, but he told me he couldn’t do it. I honestly thought it was me. I had just broken up with my boyfriend that night, so I was a self-conscious mess. It wasn’t me, though. It was you, Shay. I never had a chance because all he saw was you. Then at the shop in the morning, it was all an act. We just made it look good.”

  Shay’s eyes turn compassionate while she watches me. A tiny smile plays on her lips while she cocks her head to the side.

  “That’s really sweet of you to say, Kimberly.” She laughs.

  She looks over Shay’s shoulder, waving to the crowd.

  “All right, lovebirds! I have to go meet up with my girls again but don’t be strangers! And Trent, I’m really glad you got the girl!”

  Kimberly skips through the bar, leaving Shay and me alone. We both stay quiet as I gauge Shay’s reaction to meeting Kimberly. Her face shows no amusement, but when her lips turn upward into a smile and an enormous laugh slips out, I breathe again.

  “That was the oddest encounter of my life, Trent!”

  I join in laughing with her, nodding in agreement.

  “She’s a nice chick, but I thought ya were gonna rip out her throat for a minute.”

  Shay stalks to me, wrapping her arms around my midsection and leaning her head on my chest.

  “Trent?” she questions over the music.

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “I love you, too,” she breathes, snuggling her face into me softly.

  Heart – “What About Love?”

  TRENT AND I stayed for a little while longer at the bar last night before we left to get Abby. I had a couple too many drinks, so we decided to call it quits early.

  He and I sit in the living room while Abby cleans her room. Trent’s on the phone with his mom, and me—reading a good book.

  I can't help but peek up over my Kindle when Trent's voice turns harsh. It's not like him to talk to her that way, and it makes my heart plummet to my stomach.

  "Ma. I told ya you're going to be fine. Stop doubting it! The doctors are wrong, dammit! I know they're wrong. They're just trying to get more money out of ya. That's why they’re suggesting this shit."

  He pauses for a second, letting his mother talk before he sighs stressfully.

  "I love ya, too. I'll come by soon. Yeah. I'll tell her. Talk to you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything, Ma. I mean it."

  He hangs up his phone, running his hand through his hair. He lifts his head when he feels me staring. I quickly duck down, turning my attention back to my book.

  Shit. I really didn't want him to see me looking.

  "I'm gonna go out for a while. Ya need anything while I'm gone?"

  I look back up from my book, only to see his ass walking out the front door without so much as letting me answer.

  Because I did need something.

  I needed him.

  "MOMMY, WHERE’S DA-TRENT?"

  This has been Abby's thing since the night of her party. She won't call Trent her dad to me, but she'll say it without a moment's hesitation to Trent so long as I'm not around the two of them. So because of that, I try to give them as much alone time as possible.

  I thought it'd freak me out to hear her call another man, besides Bruce, her father, but I'm not. Actually, I couldn't be happier she feels so strongly about him.

  Abby is a child who opens her heart and soul to you so long as you show her you care. I think the icing on the cake for her was when Trent adopted that kangaroo for her on her birthday. I think every little girl has wished for some kind of unattainable animal for their birthday, although most little girls wish for a pony.

  "Hello?" Abby asks, waving her hand in front of my face.

  Why in God's name did she have to become a clone of me in the attitude department?

  "Sorry, sweetie. I heard you. I was just thinking. Why don't we call Trent and see when he's coming back? Maybe he'll even stop and pick us girls up some girly movies on his way home."

  Home. I just called our apartment, Trent's home. Well, that was unexpected. Especially when I’m still up in the air about Trent after my conversation with Ryleigh.

  Abby takes off into the kitchen to grab my phone from the charger. She runs back to me and plops down into my lap.

  "Call him, Mom!" she insists, shoving the phone toward me.

  I oblige, taking the phone from her and calling him. The ringing feels like it goes on forever and a damn day, but sure enough, he actually picks up.

  "Hey kitten," he slurs into my ear.

  Great. He's drunk.

  "Hey. I'm sorry to bother you. I'll just let you go. Abby wanted to know when you were coming home. No biggie," I say, combing my fingers through Abby's hair.

  "Hold on, babe."

  I hear the phone being pulled away from him, a female voice replacing his in my ear.

  "Take a number! He's busy right now," she coos into the phone, followed by giggling.

  Trent rustles, probably trying to get his phone back. The moment I hear "Bab-" I hit the end button, flinging my phone as far as I can throw it.

  I should’ve known better. This may be what Tr
ent thinks he wants, but he doesn't want it at all. He knows he can never take on the responsibility of having a kid or a girlfriend. All he cares about is his damn self. But I'm not as stupid as he thinks. I know he went out to get high or drunk because he couldn't handle bad news from his mom. And I refuse to let him ruin Abby's life by walking out on her just like Bruce did. So I make a silent promise to myself right here, right now.

  I will not fall in love with him any more than I already have.

  SEVEN O’CLOCK COMES too damn early when you slept alone the night before. I mean seriously, who the hell gets tattooed at seven? No one. No one gets a needle pushed through their skin that early.

  "Morning, Shay baby!" Gunner shouts when he hears the bell above the door ring.

  "Morning," I snip.

  He peeks his head out from his station, brows creasing and his smile fading away.

  "You wanna talk about it?" he questions, rolling his chair out into the lobby.

  "Talk about what?"

  "I've known you for how long now, Shay? You think I can't tell when something's wrong. You were smiles for weeks. Now, all of a sudden, you look miserable as fuck.”

  I sigh, sitting down on the black leather couch used for customers. I don't really want to talk about it, at all. But Gunner isn't going to get off my back until I do.

  "It's just Trent stuff. I doubt you're interested," I state, hoping he won't bring it up again.

  "I know all about his stuff so hit me with it."

  Bastard.

  "He never came back to my apartment last night. Like I said, it’s nonsense."

  He raises his brows, adjusting his watch. Gunner is a handsome guy. In fact, he's hot as hell. He's big but not fat. He's solid muscle and looks like he could be a damn boxer for a living, not a tattoo artist. Like Trent, he's covered in tattoos, but with Gunner's ink being in black and white, it makes him look different. His tattoos complement his blue eyes, the only thing of real color on his body.

  "And? Where was he when he didn't come back?" Gunner clips.

  I wipe my eyes at the memory of that woman taking his phone. I'm supposed to be his woman, not her. I don't give a fuck if he was just getting his dick wet or not, he’s my fucking man.

  "Abby wanted me to call him, and I did. Some chick grabbed his phone, and told me he was busy."

  Gunner comes closer, pulling me into his arms, where I happily lay my head on his shoulder.

  "He's a fucking idiot, babe," he soothes, rubbing small circles on my back.

  This is why I love Gunner. He may look tough, but he has a heart of gold underneath his rough exterior. He's been one of my best friends since the day I met him. He's always worried about me and he’s always looking out for Abby and me. I appreciate it. He’s been nothing but kind to me, and sometimes, I feel like I don’t show him how much it means to me.

  "Am I stupid, Gunner? What the fuck is wrong with Abby and me that he would just go run to some other girl when he's in a bad mood?"

  My tears fall softly, but my sniffling gives it away. I'm crying over Trent. I don't want to cry to Gunner about him, but I can't help it. I have emotions. I'd never confess how I feel to anyone I didn't trust, and I trust Gunner more than I do anyone else.

  "Look, Shay baby, he's a jackass. All right? Please stop crying. You know I can't deal with you upset. If he hurts you, I'll beat the shit out of him. I won’t even hesitate. You and Abby are my life."

  I plead with my tears to dry up before Trent comes barging in the door. I know it will be just my luck that he does.

  "Thank you," I tell Gunner softly, pulling away.

  I wipe at my face, trying to rid it of any sign I was crying when Gunner's hands cover mine, our eyes locking. He laces our fingers together, only to make my heart speed up.

  “You’re welcome,” he says calmly.

  I walk to my desk when Gunner calls out softly. "And Shay? There's nothing wrong with you. You're fucking perfect."

  TRENT DIDN’T SHOW up at work, and I didn't plan to wait around to see if he ever decided to. I couldn’t care less. I'm so pissed off at him, and to make matters worse, when I got home another late notice was on my door. I'm paying my rent, yet I'm still getting these damn notices. I've had enough.

  I rip the paper off my door and storm downstairs to the building office to get down to the bottom of this shit. The second I walk through the glass office door, I see my stupid fucking landlord sitting in the chair at his desk, stuffing his face. Figures.

  "Excuse me," I say as unkindly as possible.

  I slam the paper down on the desk. He looks up at me wide-eyed, swallowing the last speck of his junk food before answering.

  "What can I do for you, Ms. Kirby?"

  I swear my lips go into a full-on snarl. I'm livid and he’s acting as if he has no idea why I'm here. It just pisses me off more.

  "What the fuck is with these notices! I'm paying my goddamn rent!"

  His brows furrow and his sourpuss of a mouth sets in a straight line.

  "Ms. Kirby, your rent has been paid for months now. You’re paid up to next year. Pardon me for not understanding your question, but I’m very confused."

  What the fuck?

  I grip the notice a little tighter. I'm not playing these damn games with him. First, I pay Rebecca, the receptionist, rent money I apparently don't owe, and then I keep getting these notices on my fucking door.

  "Well, I didn't pay for an entire year, that's for damn sure! But I’m paying month to month to Rebecca. So you had better figure out what's going on, dammit!"

  He flips open his laptop, slapping the keyboard with his fingers. The printer produces paper after paper. He reaches for them, adjusting his thick-framed glasses, and clearing his throat.

  "Ms. Kirby. There seems to be some sort of mistake on your end. Look here. Your rent is paid."

  He sets a receipt on the counter. I read it, seeing my rent is indeed paid. This doesn't make sense. I know I didn't pay it. I don't have that kind of money.

  Who in the hell would pay my rent?

  As if on cue, my brain decides it wants to finally turn on. The light bulb that's been dimmed for months now shines bright like the sun.

  "Who the hell paid for this?" I snap, gripping the counter to brace myself.

  "Let me see here. We require a signature for our books on anything paid."

  He looks through the stack of papers, and I feel my blood sizzling. How dare he! I already know who paid it, but I need paper proof. I need proof so I can go blow the hell up on him for treating me like a damn charity case. While I appreciate his kindness, it won’t go unnoticed. I told him I don’t need help.

  "A Mr. Wallace came in a month ago to pay it. A Mr. Trent Wallace."

  "You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! What about the money I've been paying to Rebecca?”

  "It seems you actually have a credit on your rent statement. You can either leave the credit there, or I can write you a check for the balance owed back to you."

  I grit my teeth, trying not to bite my tongue off.

  "Just give me the check. And make it out to Trent Wallace."

  Dammit!

  I STOP AT the shop, but Trent isn't there. I check Mac's garage, no luck there either. Why can I find him every other time I don’t need him! I’m so fucking mad right now that the city traffic doesn't even faze me. I bob and weave through the long lines of cars filling the streets, my focus set on driving my car through the front door of Trent's house.

  I shouldn't be this mad, but I'm going to say him not coming back last night has something to do with it. I'm still torn up, and this was just adding fuel to my fire.

  Pulling up to his house, I spot his black F-150 parked smack dab in the driveway. Game time. I pull haphazardly into a parking spot in front, making sure to block his ass. The only way he's getting away from me is if he decides to smash my car in the process.

  I take three stairs at a time up to his door. Instead of knocking politely, I go with full-on banging.
The metal bruises my knuckles, but I don't give a shit. He isn’t hiding from me anymore.

  "Open up, asshole!" I scream at the closed door like a crazy person.

  I keep on with my beating the hell out of his house while no one answers.

  "I know you’re in there, Trent! You had better fucking answer this door right the hell now!" I shout once more, kicking the bottom of it.

  The door swings open in the middle of my second kick to its imaginary shin, and I'm left totally fucking dumbfounded.

  "Can I help you?"

  The girl who stands in front of me is in one of Trent's Etched t-shirts with no pants on. She's a pretty girl with long blonde hair and a petite frame, but that doesn't mean she isn't going to get her ass beat.

  I try to breathe in and out to calm myself down, but it's not happening.

  "Hello?" she repeats in the high-pitched voice, making my skin crawl.

  She reaches out to wave her dainty, pink nailed hand in front of me, and that's all it takes. My defense mechanisms kick in, and before I can stop it, my balled fist is moving directly into the bridge of her nose. I recoil, as she crumples to the ground, her hands holding what I suppose is her now broken nose. Blood covers Trent's entryway, but I don't stop to help her. I move one high-heeled foot over her, the other one following.

  “You bitch! What the hell!” she screams between sobs.

  I move slowly through his house so I can catch him off guard. I approach a hallway and see one door is wide open unlike the rest of them. My heart drops. I know where he is. It doesn't take much to guess the bimbo stumbled out of there to answer the door either.

  I round the corner into the room, stopping dead in my tracks.

  What the fuck!

  There lies my glorious “boyfriend,” stark naked, his arms wrapped around another fucking bimbo who could be the other's twin. They're both laying comfortably in each other's arms, her breasts covered by his large tattooed hand. Their breathing is even, letting me know they're both asleep, but at this point, I wish they were fucking awake.