Finding Perseverance (The Unexpected Love Series Book 3)

by T. E. Black

  “He loves fighting,” I mumble.

  “He loves you.”

  “I can’t ask him to stay.”

  “Then go with him.”

  I huff, hanging my head in disgrace. “It’s not that easy, Trent.”

  “Why? Sounds pretty easy to me.”

  “I have a life here—my bar, my friends. Everything is here. What would I have in California?”

  The weight of the decision feels two times heavier than it should.

  “You’d have Rook,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “That’s all I’d have. I’d be leaving everything that makes me who I am behind.” I sigh. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I’d be happy doing that.”

  The sound of the tattoo gun’s buzzing ceases as Trent pulls away so he can look me in the eyes.

  “Ry, let me tell you something from experience. If you go around second-guessing everything you feel is right, you’ll drive yourself insane. Sometimes, you have to take a chance. Luck is only half the battle.”

  My heart melts at my best friend’s words. It shows me how far he’s come in so little time. Who would have ever thought all it would take would be a drug addiction, chaos, and an extensive rehab program?

  “You’re too smart for your own good.”

  He throws me a playful wink before answering, “I try.”

  “Why are you sticking up for Rook when the two of you hate each other?” I eye him suspiciously.

  Trent reaches over and grabs a spray bottle and paper towels before he wipes off my forearm.

  “I don’t hate him, Ry. I might be pissed, but it’s only because he’s my brother. And until he has the balls to apologize, I’ll stay away from him. If I do get a real apology for his dickhead-ness, I’ll let bygones be bygones.”

  “Bygones, huh?” I smile tight lipped.

  “Typical,” he mutters, hiding his smile.

  “You ready to see your new ink, smart ass?”

  Trent takes my arm to hold it still as he rubs a clear salve on it before I answer excited. “Yes! Lemme see it, tattoo guy.”

  When he lets go, I hold my arm up. My breath catches in my throat, and I can feel tears prick my eyes. Crisp, black scripted lines make up the phrase: “For my family …” It’s exactly what I pictured.

  “Trent,” I whisper in awe.

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s perfect,” I answer, and he smiles wide.

  Chapter Forty

  Rook

  I never thought I’d be standing on my brother’s doorstep at nine o’clock on a Wednesday night … in the pouring rain … with an overnight bag. I never thought I’d have the courage to apologize for the things I’ve done, or why I didn’t call when he was in rehab. I certainly didn’t think I’d be getting ready to beg him to forgive Leigh for the shit storm I caused.

  Yet, here I am.

  The rain is as cold as a bucket of ice water, while thunder rolls through the clouds with ever-increasing intensity. Each time the lightning rips through the sky, lighting the world in flashes of bright white, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck seem to stand.

  I knock on Trent’s red front door, which looks almost black without the porch light on, and pray he answers so I don’t have to hitch another ride back to the city. Sarah was already kind enough to drive me here. I’d hate to have to call her to come pick my sorry ass up.

  The porch light kicks on above me, and a twinge of hope shimmers though me. I rock back and forth on my heels while the door opens.

  “Rook?”

  With jet-back hair and countless tattoo’s covering her body, it’s impossible to say my soon-to-be sister-in-law is not a beautiful woman. On top of having the looks, she has a genuine and kind heart. I only know this because of what Leigh’s told me. It’s another regret I get to add to the pile. I should know at least something about the woman who saved my brother.

  “Hey,” I greet, feeling completely awkward.

  She looks behind me and to the sides, looking for a reason I’d be standing on her doorstep, but she won’t find one. I made this decision last minute, and I’m only hoping it’ll play out the way I hope.

  “Is Ryleigh with you?”

  “Nope. Only me.” I give her a sad smile.

  She eyes me warily, and I don’t blame her. I’d be suspicious about me too if I were in her shoes. Given the current state of things between me and Trent, I almost expect her to slam the door in my face.

  “Come in.” She opens the door for me. “It’s pouring out here.”

  I take her offer and give her a nod of thanks before stepping past her and into the warm, dry house.

  “How did you know where we moved to?” Shay raises a brow in curiosity.

  Busted. “Ryleigh mentioned it a few times when we talked.”

  “She gave you our address?”

  “No. She never did, but I asked the bartender, Sarah, and she told me she’d dropped Leigh off here enough times before. So, I figured it was worth a shot to ask for a ride.”

  Shay’s lips purse while she looks me over from head to toe.

  Please don’t let this be a mistake.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she juts one hip out while crinkling her nose. “Let me grab Trent. He’s upstairs tucking Abby in for the night.”

  I nod in acceptance. “Thank you.”

  “Welcome,” she calls out over her shoulder before walking up the cherry stained wooden staircase.

  A few moments later, my brother appears, taking two steps at a time as he descends them. A week ago when he stormed into my apartment, he had grunge-looking hair. Now, it is shaved down, but it suits him. He looks cleaner—more mature.

  “You aren’t here to punch me again are you?” he clips, and I flinch. Yeah, he deserved it, and I did warn him. But the purplish-green bruise on the side of his face looks painful.

  I feel bad showing up at his place like this, but it had to be done. I can’t lie to one more person without having a breakdown in the process. I need to tell Trent the truth before shit spirals out of control any more than it already has.

  “No, man. I was hoping to talk if you had a minute.”

  Trent’s demeanor changes as he crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Then, talk.”

  “I came here to apologize, Trent.”

  “This outta be good.” He still just stands there staring at me with a cold look on his face.

  “You’re not going to make this easy are you?”

  “Should I?”

  I take a deep breath, trying to remember the speech I rehearsed, but I come up short.

  Looks like I’m going to have to wing it.

  “Fine. I should’ve been a better brother to you—”

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  “I’m sorry, but you have to understand I did what I did for you—for your family.” I nod upstairs where Shay and Abby are. “The media are vultures. They’ll stop at nothing to get a story if it means money in their pockets. They followed me everywhere, impossible to dodge. If I came around more, they would’ve figured out who you were to me, and you would’ve been harassed nonstop. They would’ve dug up every ounce of dirt on you they could’ve and printed it without a second thought. Do you see where I’m going with this?” I ask patiently.

  Trent cocks his head to the side but nods in approval when I think he’s going to call bullshit. “I’ve always gotten that part of it. But, what I don’t understand is why you couldn’t call me. You talked to Mom non-stop, so why was I the one left out? Can the media listen in on phones now? Can they jog to the police station and get a warrant to tap your line?”

  I nod in agreement, not willing to defend myself when I don’t deserve it.

  “You’re right. Is that what you need to hear?” I ask, and his face falls. “I fucked up, Trent. And I’m sorry. The only thing I can do is apologize. I can’t go back and change how I acted or what I did, but I can start fresh if you give me the chance.”

  “
You didn’t answer my question,” he states matter-of-factly. “Were you embarrassed of me? Is that the reason? You knew your brother was a waste, and you didn’t need that getting out to the public?”

  “Do you think it was easy for me to not talk to my brother—to hear Mom tell me about how great your life was going with the tattoo shop and not be able to talk to you? Because it wasn’t. I stayed away for you. I wasn’t embarrassed about you, Trent. I tried to protect you. What the hell is there to be embarrassed about when it comes to you? You’re the owner of a successful tattoo studio, you have a fiancé and a daughter. I know you made mistakes with the drugs, but that still wouldn’t leave me embarrassed. I tried to protect Mom the same way as I did you, but she gave me hell until I gave in. For fuck’s sake, she agreed with me that it was a good idea to stay away from you. Do you know what the reporters would have done to your business? Your clients wouldn’t have come within a hundred yards of your shop if those blood suckers were standing outside. I did this for you, Trent! Why can’t you see that?”

  He squints at me with disgust in his eyes. I’m not sure if my plan will backfire or work, but it was worth a shot because at the end of the day, he’s my brother.

  Families fuck up.

  Families make mistakes.

  Families lie, cheat and steal sometimes.

  At the end of the day, we’re still blood.

  “You want another shot?” He eyes me up and down.

  I shrug. “That’s what I’m asking for.”

  “Then, we have one more thing to clear up.”

  A small twinge of hope flickers inside me while I wait for it.

  “When you left, you demolished Ryleigh. That girl, my best fucking friend, disappeared and has been nothing but a ghost walking around for ten years. I don’t know how you convinced her to give you a second chance, and I don’t really care. For the first time, she’s more than a ghost. She’s our Ryleigh again. Don’t hurt her again,” he says.

  Shocked at his final request, I stutter as I speak. “W-what?”

  “Don’t hurt my best friend, and I’ll give you another shot. It’s that simple.”

  I don’t plan on ever hurting her if I can help it. There isn’t another woman who’s more important to me than Leigh is. I’d gladly make her happy, if only I knew how.

  “Fair enough,” I answer, sticking out my hand in truce.

  Trent takes it and a weight lifts off my shoulders.

  “I mean it, Rook. Don’t you dare hurt her. She’s been my family while you were screwing around in California, and she means a lot to me. Make me a promise right now,” he commands.

  “What’s that?”

  “Respect her decisions. Don’t ever fucking cheat on her. Take her feelings into consideration. Treat her well, Rook. Because, if you don’t, I’ll personally kick your ass into next week—heavy weight fighter or not.”

  A grin two times too large appears on my lips when I see how much my brother cares for my girl. It makes me happy she has someone like him to support her and protect her if for some reason I couldn’t.

  “Deal.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Ryleigh

  Today is a good day. I know I don’t say it often enough, because usually I have something to bitch about. Spending a few hours at the tattoo shop yesterday and bullshitting like old times put a smile on my face. When I saw how much Trent has grown over the last eight months, and it made me proud to call him my family—my best friend.

  I take a seat at the bar, looking around at my usually filled establishment, which is currently empty. These times are my favorite. That’s probably why I always volunteer to open the place. You’d think I do it because I’m the owner, but the reality is, I love the few hours of silence before things get crazy.

  It’s my time to unwind—to sit and normally have a beer. Today there’s no booze involved—not after last night’s escapades.

  After seeing Trent come close to taking a drink from my bottle, I highly doubt I’ll be touching any form of alcohol for a long time. I won’t be able to take a sip without thinking about what he almost did.

  I knew in my mind he wasn’t going to take a swig, but my heart saw him about to ruin everything he’s worked for, and the bitch panicked. She ached so hard, I had no choice but to get off my drunk ass and stop him. I wouldn’t let him fall back down the rabbit hole—pissed off or not. He means too much to me.

  As much as I bitch and complain about feeling under appreciated, it doesn’t change who I am. I’m the one who looks out for my friends, and so be it. I can’t imagine what would happen to my friends if they didn’t have me to set them straight every now and then and vice versa apparently.

  My cell rings, and a small twinge of hope sparks that it’s Rook calling, but when I see the same unknown number I’ve been seeing for weeks, I get irritated.

  “Hello?”

  The silence on the other end drives me insane. I want to know who keeps calling and not saying anything.

  “Who is this?” The sound of a throat being cleared definitely belongs to a man.

  “Ryleigh?”

  The voice slipping into my ears forces my frown into a grin.

  “Gunner?” I ask in disbelief, my frown slipping into a giant grin. I haven’t heard from him since he took off after Shay chose Trent over him. I have never seen anyone so torn up over a girl. The poor guy did nothing but be a friend to Shay every time Trent fucked up, and after she chose Trent over him one too many times, he skipped town. I knew he would land on his feet and call me eventually, just not six months later. I don’t know if I want to yell at him for all the radio silence or laugh with joy that he finally decided to freaking call me.

  “It’s me,” he replies casually.

  “Where are you? What are you doing? Why haven’t you answered your phone? Why did you keep hanging up on me?” The questions tumble from my lips one after the other.

  “I’m in Burlington, and I’m sorry for hanging up. I was nervous.”

  “Burlington, Vermont?” I confirm.

  “Yeah.”

  Gunner sounds different from the last time I talked to him. He almost sounds happy. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “What one?”

  “Why were you hanging up on me?”

  With a sigh, he answers. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to say. I left without so much of a good-bye to anyone. I figured you guys only wanted to convince me to come back to Boston.”

  “You know I’d never tell you to come back after what they did to you. I love Trent and Shay, but what they did to you was wrong. Nothing will change the past. Your part of our family, Gunner. I always have your back.”

  “I know. I’m sorry for all the hang-up calls.”

  “It’s all right. Next time, at least say something. I was thinking it was Susan being a nutcase again. You could have gotten her ass beat.”

  “Fair enough,” he agrees.

  “So, let’s hear it. How are you? What have you been doing with your life?”

  He chuckles lightly. “I’m all right. I actually met someone.”

  The moment the words leave his lips, I’m ready to scream in excitement. I’m so happy Gunner found someone. He deserves it.

  “That’s great!” I squeal. “Who is she? Can I meet her? Does this mean you’re coming back?”

  “Honestly, I don’t think I can come back. It’s not because I don’t miss you guys, but I don’t think I’m ready to see them.”

  I know who he’s talking about. He can’t even say Trent and Shay’s names. Poor guy.

  “Can I come see you instead? I’d love to meet this new woman. You know, make sure she’s good enough for you,” I joke.

  “I’d like that. But, don’t tell anyone. Please? I’m not ready to have unannounced visitors yet.”

  “Fair enough,” I agree. “Can I have your number at least instead of this unknown caller bullshit?”

  “I’ll text you with it,” he answers.

&nbs
p; I believe Gunner when he says it. He and I haven’t ever been close per say, but I was the one he reached out to, so that has to count for something.

  “Sounds good. Make sure you do, all right?”

  “Promise.” He pauses. “I have to get back to work now. I just came out for a smoke quick. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

  “Looking forward to it,” I answer before he hangs up.

  That is one surprise I didn’t see coming. I never thought my mystery caller could be Gunner. I’m happy it was him, though. I have so many questions about why he left without saying good-bye and where he’s been all this time, and I’m not above taking a trip to Burlington to get answers.

  I lean back in my seat, tracing the wood grains on the bar with my fingertip. As I scan the room, my eyes land on the vintage jukebox I had refurbished with the new music systems. It was a risk, putting something so high-tech in the bar, but my customers really love being able to pick and pay for their music by using an app on their phones.

  There’s a twist, though.

  When I had it converted, I made sure they kept the vinyls in it.

  I think about my favorite record sitting inside it and stand, fishing a quarter out of my pocket, using the jukebox for its original purpose.

  I press the buttons on the front panel until I land on Boston’s album and then I hit the numbers for the song I want.

  The song “Foreplay” fills the silent bar as the intro begins. Little by little, my body relaxes as the beats and rhythm of the music fill the air around me.

  “There’s just something about Boston when you’re deep in thought.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I find Rook standing behind me. A black T-shirt hugs his muscles like a second skin, all the while showcasing the gorgeous ink covering his arms.

  I give him a tight-lipped smile, nodding in agreement. “There is.”

  His face morphs into an expression of sadness as he moves toward me with large steps.