Finding Serenity (The Unexpected Love Series Book 2)

by Black, T. E.

  “Bruce, please! Just stop! You’re hurting me! I’ll do whatever you want! Please just stop!” I plead through tear soaked eyes.

  As if my prayer is answered, Bruce and I come to a stop. A dim light illuminates his face, and I can’t help but choke back a sob. I never thought he would take his hate for me this far. He’s done some bad things to me in the past, but this is by far the worst.

  “Thank you,” I sob. “Thank you for stopping. I’ll do anything you want, Bruce. Just please don’t hurt me anymore.”

  Bruce kneels in front of me, a look of sorrow seeping in. He looks exhausted and run-down. He looks like he’s apologizing with his gaze.

  “Fuck, Shay. I’m sorry, but I’m not the one who’s going to hurt you.”

  The soil crunches underneath a set of shoes. My head swings in the direction, but Bruce’s hand keeps me looking directly at him instead.

  “Do what they say, Shay. They’re only out for blood. I can’t keep talking to you. You have to understand. I’m sorry if they make me help them with this, but I have no fucking choice,” he whispers, swallowing down what seems to be bile.

  “What are you talking abo-”

  Bruce’s palm connects with my cheeks, my head flying backward. I let out a scream, the pain radiating for miles. The copper taste of blood fills my mouth, and I begin sobbing harder.

  “Bitch wouldn’t stop talking. I had to shut her up. Sorry about the damage to her face, Tony.”

  What? Tony?

  “That’s all right, son,” Tony accepts.

  Tony’s hand replaces Bruce’s in my hair. He winds it more violently than Bruce did, making sure I scream out in pain. I take a moment to look around, seeing Tony surrounded by the same goons from the day at the tattoo shop.

  “Tony, why are you doing this? What did I do to you?” I sob.

  “Shay, I’ve always liked you. You’re a tough woman, but you double-crossed me. You let your boyfriend go without a care in the world when I needed him. The way I look at it is if he doesn't give me what I need, I’m going to have to take something else from him.”

  “I don’t have anything, Tony! I have no money, no job, and I’m a mother, for fuck’s sake! I’m no use to you!”

  Tony’s eyes lock with mine as he dismisses Bruce and his goons to leave us alone. There’s an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach when he stands us up and moves into a darker area of the lot. I attempt to remain standing, but my legs keep giving out on me, causing Tony to drag my body.

  “Walk!” he snaps.

  “I’m trying!” I plead.

  We stop in front of my car, where Tony tosses me onto the ground without a second glance. My hand flies to my hair, rubbing the sore spots from Tony’s assault.

  “What do you want from me, dammit? I can’t give you anything! I don’t fucking have anything, Tony! I told you!”

  His hand flies backward, making contact with my face. I cry out again, this time tasting the copper sting of blood in my mouth. I cradle my cheek, my body fizzing with anger.

  “What the fuck was that for! What do you want from me!” I scream again.

  “I need payment for Mr. Wallace’s debt, Shay. And I’m going to have to take it from you.”

  Fuck.

  No.

  My gasp echoes around us, and I scramble to get away from him. I pray for my legs to work as I get up and sprint through the parking lot. Tony’s footsteps alert me he’s right behind me, and I attempt to pick up my speed. I run until my muscles scream out in agony. My right knee buckles, the rest of my leg following as I crash to the ground. My head smashes hard, my vision blurring before me. Everything is fuzzy. My head throbs while my heartbeat reduces to an alarmingly slow rate in my chest.

  What’s happening?

  A body looms above me while my vision flexes in and out of clarity. I attempt to speak, but it feels as if a weight is crushing my vocal cords. The dark figure tears at his waist when I hear the familiar clink of the metal from a belt buckle. There’s no avoiding what’s about to happen. The figure shuffles his pants down his legs, the fabric brushing against my bare legs. His weight comes down on top of me as he bites into my shoulder blade roughly.

  I’m going to die here. Tony is going to rape me, then kill me, and there isn’t a thing I can do about it.

  With a final effort, I try to move my hands, begging them to comply, but they let me down once again. Tony’s hands grip my thighs, prying them apart. The feeling makes me nauseous. My stomach roils, threatening to spill the contents all over him. My body is exhausted, and it pleases Tony. He hums in satisfaction while he moves his hands up to my breasts.

  “This isn’t going to hurt me a bit, Shay,” he growls.

  My body jolts, his weight leaving me. I pray my vision would just focus for a moment so I can see what’s happening, but it stays dark. I hear rocks being kicked around followed by the sound of flesh hitting flesh. The scuffle gives me my chance. I pray to God, thanking him for giving me another chance at life. My arms twitch, feeling something almost unattainable right now, but I push through. I push through the pins and needles, my fingers clawing at the dirt. I pull myself along the ground carefully and steady, my movements planned. A groan slips from my lips when a sharp pain cuts through my shoulder blade. My head slams back into the ground, the pressure on my temple causing my head to spin. My breath comes to a halt, my lungs burning for oxygen. A weight steps on my chest, my body screaming in pain. Sirens blare in my eardrums, and I get a small twinge of hope. I’m going to be okay. I’m going to live. My mind shuts off as my eyes flutter closed. It’s peaceful. I feel at peace for the first time in my life. It’s all going to be okay. I follow the white lights in my mind down the long tunnel, hoping a silver lining exists at the end of it. I let the darkness take me away, praying for a second shot in life.

  Red Jump Suit Apparatus – “Your Guardian Angel”

  “WAKE UP, BABY.”

  Nothing.

  “Fuck. Please, wake up.”

  Not even a flinch.

  “Dammit! Please fucking wake up!”

  I rest my ear on her chest, praying for a fucking heartbeat only to come up short.

  “Fuck! There’s so much blood, Shay! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

  A strangled cry rips from my vocal cords like a lion’s roar.

  I open her mouth, covering it with my own. I blow two breaths in her airways, praying she’ll just breathe again. My palms cover her chest where I start compressions, waiting for a beat.

  Nothing.

  I repeat the cycle again, following through two more times before my head collapses on top of her. My arms slip around her back, where I pull her lifeless body against mine. I place kisses on her face, begging to anyone who’ll listen to me.

  “Fuck, Shay! Why won’t you wake up! Please! Wake up!” I plead.

  A hand clamps on my shoulder, and I turn to see Marco’s sorrowful expression.

  “Come on, man. The paramedics are here.”

  With Marco’s words, the paramedics surround us, prying Shay away from me. I fight at first, but a young male stops me in my tracks.

  “Do you want her to live or die, sir?” he asks, his hand on my shoulder.

  “Is that even a fucking question! Make her breathe again, asshole!” I shout at him.

  The paramedic gives me a sympathetic look, nodding his head. “Then you need to move aside and let me do my job, sir.”

  I step away and the paramedics swoop in. Two of the men kneel down; one positions her head upright while the other checks to see if she’s awake.

  “Ma’am, can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  “Can you hear me, ma’am?”

  Nothing.

  “She’s unresponsive,” he tells the rest of the crew.

  The man leans down to check her breathing before checking her pulse at the wrist.

  “She’s breathing, and there’s a faint pulse.”

  Thank God.

  My heart leaps in my chest k
nowing she’s alive.

  They go through their routine and check her head, her neck, and her eyes for some type of response.

  “Responsive,” the paramedic tells his team.

  “Get the oxygen mask on her and a C-collar.”

  Two more team members step up, following their orders. One gets to work wrapping Shay’s neck while the other slips an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose.

  “Is she going to be okay?” I ask.

  They ignore me, working to immobilize her. With a three, two, one count, they load her onto the stretcher and move her into the ambulance.

  “Can I ride in the ambulance?” I ask hopeful.

  The paramedic looks me in the eye, nodding before flicking his head behind him.

  “It looks like you’re needed here, sir. You can meet us at the emergency room.”

  A police office clears his throat, guiding me away from the ambulance as it pulls out of the parking lot. My breathing hitches, knowing Shay is going to wake up without someone there to comfort her. I beg the officer to let me follow them to the hospital, but he says he needs me to come down the station and answer some questions along with Marco.

  I look over his shoulder, looking at the guy who hurt Shay with utter disgust. Marco informed me that Tony is the owner of the club, but I have no idea why he kept bringing Trent’s name into it.

  I'd kill him if he had her hurt.

  If it’s his fault somehow, he’s fucking dead.

  “I DON’T KNOW why he did it!” I snap at the cop grilling my ass.

  “Anthony is a very powerful man, son. Why would he just hurt one of his dancers?”

  “How am I supposed to know? The woman he hurt is the love of my life! I’m still trying to piece it together myself!” I blow out an exhausted sigh.

  “What were you doing at the club if you had just found out your girlfriend was working there?” the officer asks.

  “We’re not dating. It’s complicated. I was there for a bachelor party. The friend of mine who was arrested earlier in the night is getting married in a few months. The other guy was the woman’s ex-boyfriend,” I say awkwardly.

  “Interesting.”

  He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket, producing a small rectangular card.

  “Call me if anything comes to mind.”

  “I will, sir,” I confirm.

  The National – “I Need My Girl”

  “THANKS FOR COMING to pick me up, Ry. That place is for the fucking birds.”

  I hop in my truck where Ryleigh drives it fresh from the impound lot. That shit’s gonna cost me a fucking fortune. Let’s just say I owe Ry quite a few bucks after all the fines and shit. I’ll pay her back as soon as I get my hands in my safe at the shop.

  “No problem,” she mumbles.

  “Fuck, Ry. I’m sorry. This is the last fuck up. I’m gettin’ my shit together. My weekend in that place … fuck. It was an eye opener. I never wanna go the fuck back. I won’t go back, Ry. I’m giving this shit another go, starting with Shay. I screwed up so bad Friday night. Would ya believe I called her a whore for working at the club?”

  I grab a smoke outta my pack in the center console, lighting it up and enjoying the twinge of smoke in my lungs. It feels fucking incredible.

  “What’s up with you? You’re pretty fucking quiet over there,” I comment.

  I flick my smoke out of the window, looking over at the driver’s side. Ryleigh looks out the side window, her hands trembling on the steering wheel. I could swear I hear a sniffle come from her. What the fuck? She’s this upset about me going to jail for the weekend? Is this a joke? I mean, fuck, I’m upset, but I’m not crying over this shit. I have something else on my mind—well, one woman on my mind.

  “Trent …”

  Ryleigh turns to face me, tears slipping from the corner of her eyes. Her bottom lip quivers while she hiccups between words.

  “Something.”

  Hiccup.

  “Bad.”

  Hiccup.

  “Happened.”

  Hiccup.

  Sobs rake over her body, her shoulders shaking from the force. She cries into the steering wheel, and I sit dumbfounded.

  It's a rarity to see Ryleigh cry. I've seen her break down twice in my lifetime. So I find it a bit alarming when she's acting like this.

  “C’mere, Ry,” I offer, pulling her into my arms.

  She buries her head in my chest, her entire body jolting from her sobs. I rub her back in an attempt to calm her.

  “It's okay. I got you, Ry. I got you.”

  She pulls back for a moment, bringing her hand to her mouth. She tries to stifle another sob, but it doesn't work.

  “She won't wake up …” she cries. “It's been two days … She won't wake up …”

  My heart drops to my stomach. My palms sweat bullets. And my eyes start to water. This can't be happening. I'm wrong. Fuck! Please tell me I'm fucking wrong.

  “Who! Who won't wake up, Ryleigh!” I scream in the cab of my truck.

  Ryleigh lets out another strangled cry, this time burying her face in both hands. I grab her by the shoulders and give her a small shake to break her from her hysterics. I need her to talk to me. I need her to tell me what the fuck happened. I need her to tell me it isn't Shay.

  “Talk to me! Who won't wake up, Ryleigh? Fucking talk to me! Tell me she's okay!”

  Her head lifts from her hands, mascara streaming down her face. Her bottom lip quivers and her head shakes.

  “I'm so sorry …”

  “Tell me what happened!”

  As Ryleigh traces over each detail relating to Shay’s accident, a small piece of my heart breaks. I can’t believe I did this. I did this to her. Fuck! I fucking snap. One hand slams off my dashboard, the other quickly following. I beat the ever-living shit out of my truck, and it does nothing to soothe the hole in my heart. Heartbreak overtakes me, the pain stabbing me like fucking knives. How did this happen? What happened to my beautiful Shay?

  My body stops fighting the dash and I suck up the tears until I figure out what's going on. She has to be okay. She can't go out without even waking up. I know this is bad, but I need to see it with my own eyes. I need to see my girl.

  “Switch with me. I'm driving,” I mumble.

  “Maybe we should wait …”

  I sniffle back my weakness, giving her a serious stare.

  “I'm not fucking waiting. I'm going to see my girl.”

  “TRENT, MAYBE WE should leave. This isn't a good idea …” Ryleigh’s voice trails off.

  “I need to fucking see her, Ry. Ya coming or not?”

  She looks down at the tile floor, wrapping her arms around her front.

  “I'll stay here …”

  “All right.”

  My fingers loop around the door handle while I take a deep, calming breath. I can do this. I have to do this. I have to see her. My heart beat drums in my chest, and a ringing plays in my ears. I’m fucking nervous.

  I push the door open, stepping into the sterile white room. My eyes dart around until they land on a hospital bed. My breath hitches and my knees give out underneath me. I crash to the floor, a strangled sob slipping from my lips. My chest heaves fighting for the breath I crave. The lack of oxygen tightens my muscles, making moving just a dream. My hand comes to my mouth, attempting to cover up the proof of my breakdown. Tears sting the corners of my eyes before they unleash an unholy assault.

  Holy fuck.

  I did this.

  I fucking did this to her.

  The door opens behind me. Ryleigh sniffles, helping me stand back up. She wraps her arm around my waist, guiding me to the side of Shay’s bed, where I look away at the sight before me. Shay lies lifeless, tubes and wires attached to different parts of her body. She seems at peace, but I feel anything but peaceful. I’m a fucking mess of emotions. I wanna shake her, scream at her to wake the fuck up, but another side of me wants to beg for forgiveness. I wanna beg for her to love me again.

&
nbsp; Ryleigh takes a seat in the chair by the bed when I sink to my knees, grabbing her hand to bring it down with me. I run my fingers over her skin, praying for a sign that she knows I’m here. I just want her to know I didn’t mean for this to happen. I never wanted a fucking thing to happen to her.

  “Fuck, baby …” I whisper.

  Tears come in waves, and I embrace them. I deserve to feel this way. I deserve to feel like shit. I’m the reason my girl is lying here.

  I press my face against her hand, letting my tears flow.

  “God, baby. I’m so fucking sorry …” I sob, “I’m so fucking sorry …”

  I move my head, placing kisses on the delicate skin of her arm, apologizing as hard as I can. I need to get her back. I need to fix this.

  “I should’ve been there, baby …”

  “I should’ve protected you …”

  “I love ya so fucking much, baby …”

  “Wake up, baby … please … wake up …”

  I stay down on the floor, holding on to her for dear life as I continue to beg. Why won’t she just wake up? I need her to wake up. I need to show her how much I love her. I need to show her how much I’ve always loved her.

  “Fuck, baby. I can’t believe I did this … I’m so fucking sorry.”

  Ryleigh’s hand clamps over my shoulder as she buries her face in my back. We cry together for Shay. We let the other support the weight of our emotions. We need each other to get through this right now.

  “It’s not ya fault, Trent,” Ryleigh whispers.

  I shake my head in disbelief, another sob escaping. This is my fault. She knows it and so does everyone else.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Get the fuck outta here, you piece of shit! Get the hell out before I call the cops!”

  The door flies open before Gunner comes storming in the room, his fists balled at his sides.

  “Get the fuck out, Trent! I’m not fucking joking! Don’t you dare fucking touch her!” he screams.

  He moves quickly, too fast for me to follow. His hand wraps around my throat, and he slams me into the wall with force. My body is defeated, so I let him go without a fight.

  “You don’t deserve to touch her, motherfucker!” he seethes. “You don’t deserve to fucking live! You did this to her, you piece of shit! She’s fucking unconscious because of you! It should be you lying in that bed!”