Worth It (Forbidden Men #6)(4)

“I didn’t steal anything.” He took a step toward me, then another.

I didn’t move away, but I did hold my breath. A toxic mixture of fear and excitement raced through me.

Slowly, he lifted his hand. When I still refused to back away from him, he paused with his fingers lifted halfway between us. Then he gave in to whatever had been holding him back and reached out to pluck a broken twig from my hair.

With a sharp breath, I glanced from the twig to his face. Then I shook my head. “You still vandalized my brother’s room. That’s not right.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s a lot less wrong than what he did to my sister.”

“I don’t...” When he lifted his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue, I took a quick breath. “I mean, I don’t think Garrett...you know...I don’t think he’s the father.”

With a sniff of dismissal, the boy glanced away. “Of course you’d say that.”

“No, really. I’m serious. I know my brother. I know he’s not perfect. And he’s definitely capable of doing something like...this. He can lie and deny the truth to your face only to turn around and brag about it to his friends. But I’ve heard him talking to his buddies about this, and he still denies it to them.”

“Well, I’ve seen the baby,” the Parker boy countered. This time, when he reached for my hair, it wasn’t to pull anything from it. He wound a strand around his finger. “And she looks exactly like you.”

My breath caught. “Well...I-I’m certainly not the father.”

He gave a soft laugh and smiled. Wow, I liked his smile. Were poor Parkers supposed to have such straight white teeth and amazing smiles?

But then the smile dipped into an irritated scowl, as if he’d just remembered I was one of the rich, pretentious Bainbridges. His fingers jerked from my hair. “She’s definitely related to you. Flaming red hair. Eyes so blue they’re almost turquoise and only about two freckles on her entire face. Kind of pretty, actually.”

I tried not to react, except my skin heated violently. His compliment blushed through my entire system, and every breath I took made me more exhilarated than the last.

Until he had to add, “For a Bainbridge.”

Spinning away, he hurried off and disappeared around a tree.

I stood there, gaping at the place he’d just been. Even though he’d tried to end our encounter with criticism, my chest expanded and filled with warmth and an exuberance I couldn’t contain because it leaked out my lips and stretched the tips up until I was grinning like an idiot.

He might not have taken anything from my home, but he’d definitely just stolen something from me, something I’d never get back. It was as if he’d sucked out everything dismal and distressing in my life and left me glowing with nothing but a giddy radiance.

As my gaze dropped to the ground and I searched distractedly for my fallen Kindle, I felt uplifted and revitalized. I couldn’t wait for him to come back and steal more from me.

I think I knew, even then, my life would never be the same again.





The electronic belch of the prison gate rang to notify guards on the other side whenever the doors were about to open. It was meant to be a warning. Caution. But to me, it was the sound of freedom, because today, they blasted for me.

As I stood before them, the obnoxious wail echoed between my ears with a piercing intensity. It made my hands twitch at my sides and nerves rattle like loose change in my stomach. Then metal grated on metal as the gray steel began to peel apart, slowing baring the world beyond.

Color assaulted me. A pristine azure sky, bright yellow taxi with a white puff of smoke coughing from the tailpipe, glistening silver gates, a piercing red stop sign down the block, and grass as green as the moss that grew on the trees in the woods behind my childhood home.

I’d been eighteen when I’d stepped behind bars. For six years, my world had been nothing but grays and browns, blacks, and inmate orange. So I had to wince against the blinding onslaught of fresh, new color until I lifted my hand to shield my eyes.

Sunlight warmed my chilled palm and it sent a ripple of anxiety down my spine. I tried to control my erratic breaths and slow the whiplash of my heartbeat, hide the overwhelming insecurities.

I hadn’t expected quite this level of emotion. What perplexed me most, though, was that the overriding sensation wasn’t even relief. It was fear. I no longer knew this world. I wasn’t prepared to step into it. I didn’t even know if I wanted to be a part of it. But I sure as hell didn’t want to stay here.

Wiping my hand over my face to clear my expression, I took a step forward, my first toward freedom.

The guard next to me nudged my arm. “Hey, Parker.”

The heels of my shoes collided with the floor, jerking me to a halt. Expecting him to hitch his chin toward the belly of the prison and drag me back to my cell—telling me this was simply a test run, I wasn’t really being released today—I did nothing but stare blankly when he pulled a folded bill from his pocket and extended it my way.

When I only blinked at the cash, he jabbed it at me again, like some kind of jousting stick. “Buy yourself some new clothes, will you? You look like shit in those.”

My gaze darted from the money to his face, back and forth, a ticking pendulum of indecision. I didn’t understand.

I started to shake my head, so he sighed. “Just take it already.” He glanced away, uncomfortable with his gift. “It’s only twenty bucks. You’ll barely be able to buy a meal with that.”