Finding Perseverance (The Unexpected Love Series Book 3)

by T. E. Black

  I want to tell him I’m an idiot for lashing out.

  I want to tell him I love him more than anything, and that I’ll support him.

  But my mind screams something different, so I walk out and don’t look back.

  Chapter Thirty

  Rook

  I want to go after her. I want to tell her I am sorry for everything. I want to beg her not to leave me or hate me for what I’ve done to her life.

  Josie holds me back, though.

  I feel my heart crack in half as I watch her walk away from us. I let grief strangle my lungs until I can’t even take a breath.

  I let life take away what I didn’t deserve—her.

  I got lucky when she gave herself to me. Every small piece of herself was mine for only a few hours, and now I think it’s gone.

  “You need to let her cool off,” Josie says, placing a hand on my back.

  “Get your hand off me, Josie.” If she lets me go, I can still reach Leigh before she leaves. Josie ignores me and moves to stand in front of me, looking directly into my pained soul.

  “She’s hurt. She’s pissed. She’s sad. And I don’t blame her. She has every right to feel the way she does, Rook. What you need to do is let her be hurt, pissed, and sad for a little while. You need to let all those feelings fade away on their own before you run off and do something stupid.”

  “No,” I argue.

  “Do you love her?”

  “With everything I have.” I think Josie has lost her mind, maybe had too much to drink. Of course, I fucking love Leigh!

  “Then take it from someone who knows all about the look in that girl’s eyes as she walked out. You need to get out of your own way and just give the poor girl some space.”

  “What are you talking about?” I snap again.

  “Some girls like the attention, need to be coddled and will run to a man for the smallest thing, but others need to stand on their own two feet.”

  I know exactly who the other woman is that Josie is talking about, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint I have not to turn and punch a wall.

  “Leigh is nothing like Lauren!” I yell, pulling my arm out of her grasp and stepping away from her.

  “That’s not what I’m saying. I know for a fact that she would never hurt you or do wrong by you. But this is your problem when it comes to people. You couldn’t see that Lauren loved the attention, was a total whore for it. You couldn’t see that in the exact same way that you can’t see that’s it not something that girl”—she gestures to the door Leigh stormed out of—“never wanted. I didn’t know Lauren very well, but what I did know of her was nothing but cold and calculating. I also don’t know Ryleigh very well, but she seems the polar opposite.”

  “I get where you’re going with this, Josie, but choose your words carefully as you get there,” I warn, getting more pissed off by the second.

  “What I see when I look at Ryleigh is a woman who appears tough on the outside but is soft inside. I see a woman who will die protecting the people she loves and is hurt deeper than the average person when those people hurt her. She never forgets a thing, and she takes it all to heart. I see a woman who’s tired of giving to people because all she gets is shit on in return.”

  “I know this,” I spit.

  “Do you, though?”

  “Yes.”

  She sighs. “I think you know it, but you won’t accept it. I think you expect her to take care of you the way you need her to, so long as you take care of her in return, which is fine for a normal couple. You and she aren’t a normal couple. You’re famous. She’s not, and she doesn’t want to be. She wants you but without all the media, fame, and attention that makes you who you are.” Josie pauses, taking a sip from her glass. “So, until you realize she’s pissed off at you for reasons that make sense, you shouldn’t go near her, because it’s only going to make it worse.”

  Her words don’t allow me any wiggle room and force me to take a second. I don’t want to accept that she’s right. But her words twist something inside me. They make me see Leigh in a new light—one not overrun by a lifetime of memories that obscure the woman she has become. Now, I realize she hit the nail on the head. She didn’t sugarcoat it or make me feel like I had rights to Leigh, when I don’t.

  She’s right about Leigh having her reasons to be pissed, too. Leigh doesn’t want all the bullshit that comes with me. It’s not as if she didn’t tell me this from day one, but it still leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. After all, I’d love her no matter what—flaws, baggage and all. So, I almost feel as if she should want to do the same for me.

  She has every right to hate me for what I’ve done to her. What the media did to Leigh is something I’m used to by now. The slander, the lies, the gossip, it’s all a cake walk for me after ten years of dealing with it. But, for Leigh, who has never had to experience that nasty side of people, I can’t imagine what it’s like for her. She’s been dumped into the deep end of a swimming pool with her arms tied around her back, while the cement bricks tethered to her feet are sure to make her sink.

  Little does she know … I’ll be there to save her from plummeting to the bottom.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ryleigh

  Rook didn’t come after me yesterday, and I can’t say I blame him. I freaked out and had every intention of sending him running as far away from me as possible. Unfortunately, I think I’ve succeeded.

  He’s still staying away from me. He hasn’t popped his head downstairs in the bar. He hasn’t sent me a text or called me. He hasn’t even made a noise upstairs in the apartment. He’s so quiet I worry that he might have actually left with Josie, but I push the thought away.

  More than likely he’s just hiding away from the paparazzi who are still crowded outside the bar. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

  “What the hell is with these people outside?” Sarah questions. “They’re idiots if you ask me. What kind of job is that? All they do is stand around and wait to snap a picture and sell it for thousands of dollars.”

  “A smart one.” I chuckle, brushing off the weight on my shoulders.

  “I guess, but still, it’s stupid and annoying. They’re keeping our customers away.” She gestures to our near-empty bar.

  She’s right. Normally, we have about fifty people here by this time of night, even a slow one. But tonight, there are three customers. Since this shit is all mine and Rook’s fault, I’ve been serving them for free to make up for the vultures outside.

  “The people will come back once they leave,” I confirm, grabbing a bottle for Sarah and myself.

  “And if they don’t?”

  “They will,” I deadpan.

  “Have you talked to him since earlier?”

  “Nope, and I don’t plan to, either.”

  “Do you want my opinion?” she asks with a sigh.

  “Nope, but you’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?”

  Sarah has a lot of experience with marrying someone who’s famous. Her husband’s in a band that got pretty big about five years ago. They didn’t start off that way, though.

  She told me the stories of what she went through once her husband got signed with a record label and started touring. She told me all the bad shit and the good shit, and I respect her for it all.

  Hell, I think the only reason she works here is because she loves talking to people and gets bored when her husband is gone on tours. Lord knows she doesn’t need the money she makes from here. It could also be the fact her husband started off playing at Max’s, and since this is the place she met her happily ever after, she doesn’t want to leave. Either way, I’ll keep her as long as she’s willing to stay.

  “You know I am.” She chuckles before grabbing her bottle and taking a pull.

  “Hit me with it. Then rip off the Band-Aid quick.”

  “Here’s my issue with your and Rook’s argument. You’re mad because the media found out who you are, right?”

  “Yup. I have
every right to be pissed, too.”

  “You’re right. You have every right to be pissed, just not at him.” I set my beer down and look at her.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? This is his fault!”

  I’m livid at her for defending Rook when she’s my friend. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

  With her arms crossed over her chest, she leans back in her chair. “Who sold the story to the media, Ryleigh?”

  “That has nothing to do with it,” I snap. What? Did her and Josie have a damn conference call before Sarah came into work?

  “Bullshit. I love you, and you’re my friend and my boss, but I won’t lie to you about the truth. Susan is the one who sold you and Rook out. Susan is the one who caught you two practically fucking on the bar. Susan is the one who you defended Rook to at the time. Susan is the cause of this, and unfortunately, Susan is only connected to you.”

  “So, this is my fault?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Susan would’ve never got into the bar if Rook’s lawyer didn’t leave the door unlocked,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Doesn’t matter. Rook’s lawyer was here because of your mother. Therefore, it’s still your fault as much as it’s his.”

  “Rook is the one who offered to pay her off. I didn’t ask him to do that,” I counter, knowing I’m reaching for straws.

  “Nope, you didn’t. He did that because he loves your thick-headed ass. Let me ask you something else. Could you have refused to let Rook stay here?”

  “No, that was never an option.” The words fall from my lips before I can even process them. Turning Rook away was never an option.

  Blowing out a long breath, I let Sarah’s words sink into my mind. I know she’s right, but it doesn’t mean I want to believe it. It doesn’t mean I want to take half the blame for this shit storm. It doesn’t mean I want to let go of my anger toward Rook.

  “Oh, Jesus. Here comes trouble.” Sarah nods her head toward the front door.

  I follow her eyes and look in the direction of the door, and my stomach bottoms out.

  Trent has thrown the door wide open.

  Behind him, a dozen cameras are flashing.

  He looks pissed as hell.

  “Can today get any worse?” I groan before standing from my chair.

  “What is wrong with you?” Trent screams at me before the door even closes behind him. “The media is making a joke of us, and you’re sitting here drinking a damn beer and acting like everything is okay?” My fingers clench around my bottle, and I take a deep breath. I need to stay calm, but Trent just keeps on talking. “I trusted you, Ryleigh!” Trent screams, getting closer to me and Sarah.

  The world spins in time with each pump of my heart, and Trent just keeps getting closer to me. Rage and trepidation build inside me, warring for dominance. I take a deep breath, and as calmly as I can, I say, “Trent, take a deep breath. I didn’t tell the media anything. Let’s just talk about this instead of screaming at each other for once.”

  “Fuck you, Ry!”

  I close my eyes and regulate my breathing as I silently count backward from ten.

  Ten.

  “Rook’s a dead man once I get my hands on him!”

  Nine.

  “I’m seeing him! I know he’s here!”

  Eight.

  “Trent, leave her alone.” Sarah’s voice cuts through the fog rolling in my mind.

  Seven.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  Six.

  “Her friend, obviously! Something you’re not at the moment.”

  Five.

  “I’m going to see him!”

  Four.

  “The fuck you are. We’re not letting you near him!”

  Three.

  “Who’s going to stop me, Sarah? You?”

  Two.

  “You’ve known me just as long as you’ve known my brother. And you’re protecting him?”

  One.

  “Enough!” I bellow as I open my eyes and glare at Trent. “Trent, you want to go see your brother? Go for it. I don’t give a shit anymore. He’s upstairs. Go battle it out. Go try to beat the shit out of him. I don’t care, but I didn’t tell anyone anything and neither did Rook. That man is dealing with a world of shit right now, so I would think long and hard about what kind of bullshit you want to add to it. You want to be pissed off at the world, that’s your problem. You want to make everything into some imaginary slight against you? Fine, go right ahead. You want to destroy any kind of relationship you have with your only family left alive. Go. Right. Fucking. Ahead. Dig your own hole. I’m done trying to protect you!” I scream at him so loudly the words burn my throat, but it’s strangely cathartic, as if something has finally slipped into place inside me. All the anger and worry just … shut off, leaving me standing in front of Sarah and Trent numb and uncaring.

  I’m sick of everything falling to pieces around me while I fight to keep it together.

  I’m sick of being his whipping post.

  I’m sick of feeling guilty.

  I’m sick of hiding.

  “I’ll take you upstairs if you want,” I offer in a monotone voice.

  “Ryleigh!” Sarah exclaims, but I don’t look at her. I wait for Trent to answer me.

  “Take me up there,” Trent whispers, his anger faltering for a second.

  I turn on my heels, grab my beer, and walk toward the back hallway. “Come on.” I don’t turn to see if he is following me.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Rook

  “One second,” I call out, pulling a shirt on over my head.

  Muffled voices outside my apartment make me second-guess if my instincts are right. Maybe she hasn’t come back after all. Maybe she’s done with me.

  Taking a deep breath to relieve some of the anxiety I feel, I open the door.

  A sight as gorgeous as a sunset stands in front of me, and I smile wider than I ever have before. Leigh looks amazing as always. Her blonde hair is swept up and away from her face, and her black tank hugs every curve on her body with ease.

  “Leigh,” I whisper, bracing myself on the doorframe.

  A single tear slides down her delicate cheek, running its course until it drips off her chin. I reach out without thinking, wanting to hug her—needing to touch her and let her know that we are okay.

  “No,” she whispers, shaking her head and taking a step to the side to reveal Trent and Sarah behind her.

  Trent looks livid, and Sarah just mouths the words “I’m sorry” before letting her lips settle in to a frown.

  “Well, if it isn’t my awesome brother,” Trent says sarcastically, pushing past me and into the apartment.

  I watch Leigh and try to catch her attention, but she refuses to make eye contact with me as she moves inside behind Sarah. Any acknowledgement from her would be nice—a smile, a frown, a glance even. All I want to know is if she’s okay. And, if she’s not, I want to know why. I want to know what happened once she walked out the door yesterday. I want to know if Trent did something to her, or if the sharks with cameras outside did. Before I can ask her anything, Trent lets out a sharp laugh, drawing my attention away from her.

  “I have to say, you got a nice set up here, brother.” Well, it’s nice to know that after all this time Trent hasn’t changed.

  “It’s Leigh’s setup, not mine.”

  “So, you ready to explain everything?” Trent asks me.

  “Look, I owe you an apology, Trent,” I start off.

  He scoffs at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “You owe me more than that. You owe me years upon years of having a fucking brother. You owe me explanations out the ass and a thousand apologies. You owe me a best friend named Ryleigh. But I’ll settle for the truth.”

  “What truth do you want?”

  “Well, let’s see. We can talk about the shit show outside of Ry’s bar. We can talk about the media gossip spreading around the
world like wildfire, all concerning me and my family. Or … maybe, we can talk about how you’ve been hiding up here like a pussy while everyone else deals with your shit. Take your pick,” he says, grabbing a seat on the couch.

  “Trent, I get that you’re mad at me.”

  I don’t want to fight with him.

  I’m sick of fighting with people.

  I only want to fight for people.

  I only want to fight for Leigh.

  “You don’t get shit. The only thing you get is being a liar and a shitty brother. You haven’t been around in ten fucking years, Rook. You weren’t there for anyone—including Mom.”

  I won’t fight my brother.

  I don’t fight family.

  “You’re right, but you don’t have to hold it against me forever,” I state calmly. “I’m only human. I make mistakes, Trent. You of all people should know what it’s like to make mistakes and regret them. Yes, I could have done things differently, don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I live with the regret of not being here for Mom? For missing out on ten years with you and Leigh. My mistakes don’t have to affect the rest of our lives, though.”

  “The fuck they don’t!” he roars, letting his temper get the better of him. “I don’t know who you think you are, but to me, you’re nobody! You may have been my brother once upon a time, but now, you’re another washed-up fighter who’s never going to amount to anything.”

  “Trent, if you really meant that you wouldn’t be up here screaming at me. So you need to stop with the bullshit posturing.” That was probably the worst thing I could say. Trent has always hated being called out on his own shit, and much like his sarcasm, that doesn’t seem to have changed, either.

  “You going to do something about it, Reaper?” He stands and squares off against me. I want to laugh at him and scream at the same time, but I school my face into impassiveness. I’m not going to knock my brother out, and I don’t know how things got this bad without my noticing. Why did he start to hate me this much? When did he become so angry? Did I do this?