by T. E. Black
When she storms past me and out the door, slamming it behind her, I don't follow. I let her go, because she's right. I have no right to demand for her to tell me the truth when the real truth of the matter is I don't deserve it.
Chapter Fifteen
Ryleigh
I lied about hanging out in the apartment, so what? I’ve been lying to myself and to others for the past ten years. I lie so I can keep the peace between my friends and family. I lie so everyone can go on living happy, perfect lives. Because sometimes, the truth doesn’t set us free. And in most cases, a white lie is needed to maintain happiness.
I could’ve told Rook that I spent last night sulking in our old apartment, reminiscing about old memories and good-byes. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s healthy to get drunk and ugly cry every once and a while. It’s the human thing to do.
I didn’t tell him the truth because he doesn’t need to know it. I can be a friend to him. I can help him if he needs me to, but I can’t open any door that could lead to even the smallest chance of my falling back in love with him. I won’t fall back in love with him. What’s the point of putting myself back in a situation when I ripped off the Band-Aid ten years ago? Why the hell would I put myself through it again?
Plus, once his name gets cleared with the police and the media, he’ll be going back to California. It would be silly of me to think that isn’t what’s going to happen.
“Hey, is everything all right? Did you talk to him?” Sarah asks, peeking her head in the office door.
“He’s fine, upstairs in the apartment.”
She steps inside and shuts the door behind her before taking a seat by my desk.
“Are you all right? I was going to come outside to see if you needed anything, but I heard you talking, so I let you two be.”
Looking up from paperwork I’ve been pretending to be busy with, I blow out a breath in frustration. “I have no clue if I’m all right. I don’t even know if he’s okay. I left too quick to find out.”
“I don’t know everything, but I’ve been here for two years so I’ve heard enough to figure out you two have a difficult relationship. He came here for a reason, Ryleigh. He obviously trusts you enough to come here when he’s supposed to be lying low. And you let him stay here for a reason, too. I’m not going to lecture you because it isn’t my place, but maybe you two should talk after things cool down.”
Chuckling at the situation, I reply, “This is insanely ironic. Normally, I’m the one giving advice to you guys. Now, you’re sitting here saying things I would’ve said to you.”
“Hey,” she shrugs, “I had a good teacher. I’ve screwed my life up enough to have heard almost every ounce of advice you could give someone.”
“Everyone messes things up, Sarah. I only became this wise because I’ve made mistakes too.”
“I know, and that’s why I won’t let you fuck anything else up. It might not be as simple as I’m making it out to be, but let’s be real for a minute, he’s smoking hot.” She laughs and sprawls back in her chair fanning herself.
“You’re lucky I like you or I’d be pissed as hell at you for checking him out.” I raise an eyebrow but laugh a bit at her antics. “But under the circumstances, I kind of need to keep you happy since you now know he’s here.”
Sarah holds her hand up as if she’s a cub scout swearing it. “I wouldn’t tell a soul. I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”
“Not even Trent. No one can know he’s here.”
“Not even Trent. Got it.”
It’s the best I’m going to get, and considering that she was the one who found him here and pulled me out back without announcing to the entire bar that he was here, I don’t think I have too much to worry about.
“Can you do me a favor?” I ask.
“Sure, whatever you need. Do you need me to man the bar tonight? I understand if you want to head out for the day.”
“No. No. Nothing like that. You work enough extra shifts as it is. I just—would you run to the store and grab some groceries and shit for Rook? Some shampoo, stuff he needs. He didn’t have any bags with him, and I’m willing to bet he’s going to be staying here for a while.”
“Sure! No problem. Do you want me to grab anything specific? My husband usually has me do the shopping, so I can grab the same stuff I get for him.”
Giving her a small smile. “Sounds great. But, grab him a case of Sam Adams out of the cooler, too. It’s the only beer he drinks.”
“Will do, boss lady.” She gives me an all-knowing smile and all but skips out of my damn office.
Chapter Sixteen
Ryleigh
“Why didn’t you tell me Rook was such a heartache to be around?” Sarah says as she waltzes into my office without knocking first.
My eyes go wide with confusion as my brows furrow. “What?”
Sarah sighs before running her hand down her face. “He’s depressing to be around. He’s sweet. There’s no doubt about that, but he’s so sad.”
I hold up my hand for her to stop. “Rewind. When did you talk to him?”
“Yesterday when I dropped off the stuff you told me to get. I was just going to drop it and leave, but when I saw him just sitting there looking all pathetic and sad, I felt bad and stayed for a bit.”
She stayed? I didn’t realize that and have to force my hand to stay still. I really want to reach up and try to rub away the fierce ache I have in my chest right now. She had went and talked to him when I couldn’t. I want to be there for him, but I don’t know how I can fix all he’s going through.
“What do you mean sad? What did he say?” I ask on the edge of my seat.
“He seems to be beating himself up pretty bad over everything that’s happened, not only with you, but his career too. The poor guy barely said two words, except to ask where you were.” She looks at me compassionately.
I break eye contact, shuffling around papers on my desk. “What did you say?” I mumble.
“I told him you hated him and you didn’t want to see him,” she answers in a sarcastic tone. “What do you think I said? I told him you got caught up at the bar or you would’ve brought the stuff yourself.”
Looking up from my distraction, I place my head in my hand when I see Sarah staring daggers at me. “I know what you’re getting at. I’ll talk to him when the times right, but for now, I need to give him some space.”
She makes a tsk-tsk noise. “You need space,” she corrects. “Don’t think for a minute I’m not on to you. I love you. You’re my friend, and I understand the way he hurt you. But sending me up there because you’re too chicken shit to face him isn’t going to make anything better.” She pauses, and I can feel her eyes on me. “He’s blaming himself for a lot of things right now. The guy has guilty written all over his face, but he’s still the man you fell in love with when you were kids.”
“I don’t know who he is anymore,” I say, defeted.
Sarah puts her hands up in surrender. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m on your side. I’ll always be on your side, but you need to talk to him.”
Standing from her chair, she moves toward the office door. Seconds before she’s about to walk out, I call out to her. “I have to protect myself, Sarah.”
She glances over her shoulder, giving me a knowing look. “I know you do.” Then, with one last smile, she dissappears back into the bar.
Sagging back into my office chair, I let her words roll around in my mind. If I didn’t send her up to see Rook, I would’ve caved. If I weren’t busy, I would be upstairs as we speak. I don’t have the will power when it comes to Rook. Plus, Trent, Mac, and Evan usually come in on Tuesdays. So, I know those three goofs will distract me.
Although, I’m not sure if I want to face Trent now that Rook is here. The issue is I can’t tell him about Rook. I want to, but I can’t. Telling Trent his brother magically showed up at my bar is going to open a shitstorm of questions that I’m not ready for. The best scenario is he mentions Rook a few times a
nd I can change the subject.
After everything Trent and I have been through, I don’t want to lie to him, but I don’t have a choice in the matter. He’s going to be livid when he finds out the truth, but I think it’s worth it for now. Trent’s still pissed at Rook for not calling after Cynthia died, and I don’t blame him. When I talked to Rook, I gave him the same amount of hell Trent would’ve wanted me to.
The landline on the desk next to my computer rings, and I pick it up.
“Max’s. Ryleigh speaking.” There is a beat of silence. “Hello?” I hear a faint shuffling noise and what could be someone breathing, but no one actually speaks. So, I try again. “Anyone there?”
When I stil don’t get an answer, I hang up on the moron. I don’t have time for this shit. I have business to run and a wanted man to hide above my bar. Baby games are not something I can stand right now.
Unable to even pretend to be doing paperwork, I move from my office and out to the bar. I switch the television channel to the news, which is cycling through the same story about Rook and the rumors being spread about him—the same old bullshit. I watch for a second, and then a clip I haven’t seen before starts to play. The husband of the woman who was murdered is speaking to the newscaster about his loss.
“I loved my wife,” he says to the reporter, “I loved her more than anyone could ever imagine. I never wanted to get a divorce. It was her idea. We were working on things, but then to my surprise, I found out she was having an affair with Rook Wallace.”
“Do you believe Rook Wallace loved your wife? It doesn’t add up that he would throw his whole career away for a woman who was trying to work things out with her husband.”
The woman’s husband, Mark, gives the reporter an absolutely lethal look.
“Are you trying to say my late wife is to blame here? I don’t appreciate those type of insinuations.”
The reporter goes into damage control mode, trying to come up with anything to keep Mark at bay until they cut to a commercial. And I almost feel bad for her.
All she was doing was trying to stick up for Rook, and now, this interview will be all over the internet in no time. The reporter’s career will be tarnished for pointing out an obvious flaw in the story that guy is trying to spin.
“Turn the fucking news off before I get another headache,” Trent sighs.
I hadn’t even heard anyone else come in, but when I turn around, Trent, Mac, and Evan sit at the bar. Trent looks like shit. And, I’ll assume he’s been watching the news reports as much as I have.
Mac and Evan don’t seem to be too affected by what’s going on; instead, they almost look remorseful with frowns directed at Trent and me.
“I take it you had a rough night?” I question, grabbing beers for Mac and Evan but a coke for Trent.
Placing the drinks in front of each of the guys, I take a deep breath when Trent runs his hands over his face. His hair is sticking up in different directions and there are deep bags under his eyes. Whether he wants to admit it or not, I know he’s worried about his brother.
“That’s an understatement, Ry. Shay’s ready to ring my neck.”
“And, it affects the rest of us, too,” Mac adds.
Trent nods apologetically to Mac and Evan before taking a drink. “Sorry. You know our girls stick together.”
“Why are the girls banning against you three?” I raise a brow.
“Oh. I got this one.” Evan laughs. “Trent’s fighting with Shay because she thinks Trent should get over his grudge with Rook. And, this dumbass,” he nods to Trent, “is holding his ground on the subject.”
“What does Trent’s beef with his brother have to do with you two?”
“Shay told Callie and Sierra, so now, they’re putting us in charge of making Trent call Rook, which, as you can see, isn’t working like we hoped,” Mac chimes in.
Instead of responding, Trent sits there and grits his teeth. There’s no denying he’s pissed at Shay for stepping in, but she’s right. Trent needs to talk to Rook. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to keep Rook to myself until I figure out what’s going on. Rook never said anything about wanting me back, but he did show up here when he needed help. I don’t want Trent getting involved when I don’t even know how I feel about everything. Because, realistically, I know I’ll stick up for Trent without a moment’s hesitation.
“So, why don’t you call him, Trent? Squash the issue and then you can go on like nothing ever happened.”
“Sure. I’ll call him and say him ignoring me is justified. I’ll beg for him to talk to his own flesh and blood, just so he could tell me his bullshit reasons I’ve already heard before.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I defend.
Standing from his seat at the bar, he slaps a five-dollar bill on the counter and leans toward me.
“You have his number, right? I could just have you call him since he’d apparently rather talk to you than me.”
“You have his number too, so don’t give me that shit. And you need to get over this pity party. I told you why your brother stayed away. It was for you. Don’t kill the messenger.”
When the hell is he going to get over it? Well, he might get over it when he finds out his brother is upstairs in the apartment, but only because he’ll be angry about that instead of the phone number.
“Are you going to stay pissed forever?” I snap.
“I’ll stay mad until you and everybody else starts telling me the goddamn truth, Ry.”
“Jesus Christ, you two!” Mac groans. “Could you stop ripping each other’s throats out for two damn minutes? I swear, if you’re not fighting, neither of you is happy.” We all fall silent for a beat after that, the space between us heavy with all the things we want to say but won’t.
“All right, once again, I guess I’ll pay for a full beer without drinking it,” Evan mumbles, getting up from his seat.
He places a hand on Trent’s shoulder, telling him it’s better for them to leave than stay. Trent goes with Evan, glancing over his shoulder at me one more time before walking out the door.
“The two of you are the most stubborn people on the planet.” Mac chuckles, taking a pull from his bottle.
“We’re not stubborn. He’s just a child sometimes.”
“And you’re not being a child yourself? Lying to him isn’t childish at all, right?”
“Excuse me? I never once lied to him about Rook. He never asked me if I still talked to him! You guys just all assumed things!” I stare daggers at him.
“Fine. You didn’t lie. But, Ry, think about it. I know you’re not an idiot. You can’t see he’s jealous you have a relationship with his brother and he doesn’t? You don’t think it’s a tad fucked up?”
Mac’s words turn my guilt into pure shame. He’s right, but I can’t tell him. I can’t tell him I want to do something for myself for once.
“It’s not my fault.” I maintain, which is partially the truth.
“And that’s why you and he are the same.”
“Jesus, Mac. Why are you shrinking me? Should I expect a bill in the mail for your services?”
“Ry, when it comes to my friends, my advice is always free. And I know yours is too. I get it—what you’re doing here.”
“And what am I doing, Dr. Mac?”
He’s starting to annoy me now. I don’t even know what I’m doing, so there’s no way he can.
“You’re standing up for yourself. See, what I think is that you miss Rook as much as Trent does, and Rook has all his fucked up reasons for staying away from Trent, but not you. What I think is that Rook loves Trent, and he doesn’t want to drag him into his mess, which is honorable.” He pauses and takes a drink before continuing, “But you? I think you plowed right into Rook’s life without his say on it. I think you wanted something and you took it without asking permission. I think you’re as screwed up as he is.”
When I don’t respond, Mac lets out a resigned sigh and stands from his seat. I watch as he tosses mone
y on the bar and turns to leave, but then I find my words. “I think you’re right, Mac.”
Chapter Seventeen
Rook
I’m going insane.
There’s a million things I could think about, but the only thing on my mind is Leigh. The fact she’s right downstairs, going about her day as if I’m not here is killing me most. She’s so close, yet I can’t go to her.
I can’t tell her I’m sorry. I can’t tell her what lead me here. I can’t see her shining smile or smell her delicious perfume. I can’t get intoxicated by her when she’s not here.
There’s so much I need to tell her, so much I want to explain. And honestly, I had enough of this shit. I’ve slept like shit since the first night. I’m up at all hours of the night, and I haven’t even thought twice about working out or training by myself. Although I know I should keep myself ready in case my name gets cleared sooner than I thought, I’m not sure it will make a difference.
What’s going to happen when all this is over? I’ll never be able to face any of those guys again. Nobody saw what happened to her, but I did. Clearing my name may not be enough to stop the whispers. People may still believe I was the one to kill her.
“Rook, you in there?”
Ryleigh’s voice outside the door echoes through the apartment. It’s sweet, angelic even. It’s a welcoming distraction from what I’m feeling inside.
“Yeah. One minute,” I call, heading for the door.
“I brought beer,” she answers.
Hearing a light tone in her voice, my body relaxes in an instant. Maybe she’s not pissed anymore. Maybe she’s making a peace offering.
I open the door, greeted by the sight of a smiling Leigh. Thank God.
“Hey,” I say, sounding like a love-struck kid. She’s more gorgeous than I’ve ever seen her.
“Hey, I brought beer.” She did indeed, a whole case of Sam Adams.