Worth It (Forbidden Men, #6)(43)

That’s when I lost it. My breathing had picked up and my core temperature broiled off the charts. Even my fingers tingled with the urge to curl them into fists and start swinging. But learning she worked here—with me—was more than I could take.

“How can she work here, the daughter of a millionaire? She should be off at some Ivy League university getting a doctorate in f*cking psychology while she’s engaged to some rich son of a bitch, who showers her with love and affection and all that shit. She should not be here, slaving as a waitress in some seedy-ass bar with all kinds of scumbags grabbing her ass whenever she brings them their beer. What...the f*ck?”

Glowering, Pick folded his arms over his chest. “Okay, I’m going to ignore the fact you just called my highly classy nightclub seedy, and I’m going to tell you Felicity cut ties with her family the day she turned eighteen. She never went to college…because she couldn’t afford it. She struggles just to make ends meet.”

The air felt socked from my lungs as I stared at him. I couldn’t quite understand what I was hearing, because it made no sense at all. “No.” I shook my head, confused. When Pick opened his mouth to say more, I banged him once more against the wall. “Why would she do that? Why?”

She had to have gone to college. It’d been her life goal. Her dream to be a child psychologist. I’d spent the last six years surviving hell and convincing myself it’d been worth it because at least she’d been able to follow her dream. That was the only thing I’d ever wanted. I couldn’t bear to hear otherwise. I couldn’t handle learning she’d suffered through one miserable day.

Except, shit. If she hadn’t gone to college as she’d planned, then she hadn’t become a child psychologist, and she hadn’t done anything she’d really wanted to do. She was stuck working as a f*cking waitress, while some douchebag had cheated on her?

I felt sick to my stomach hearing how she’d moved on to someone else, but Jesus, learning she wasn’t even pampered and cherished and spoiled rotten by the f*cker twisted the knife deeper.

“Why do you think she left them?” Pick asked, reminding me I still held his shirt in my hands and had his back once again rammed against the wall. When he lifted an eyebrow as if I should already know why she’d abandoned her family, I growled.

“Because of me?”

When he didn’t answer, I spun away from him and ran my hands over my head, letting the stubble on my scalp scrape against my palms. My stomach heaved, and I worried I really might be sick. So I bent at the knees and rested my hands on them.

But the rage and overwhelming helplessness from what I’d just learned consumed me. With a roar, I straightened and kicked the first thing in my path—which happened to be Pick’s desk—with the flat of my foot. It flew over onto its side and crashed to the floor, sending papers and his computer flying.

When the glass in the screen broke, shattering across the floor, I stared in amazement, unable to believe what I’d done... until the urge to do more flooded me.

“God...damn it!” I roared at the top of my lungs.

She was supposed to be taken care of, protected, spoiled, happy.

Not this.

The fury and need to destroy took over. I spun toward the wall and reared back my arm, slamming my fist into sheetrock. Absorbing the pain in my knuckles as they split open and bled over the backs of my fingers, I hit the wall again, relishing it.

“What the hell?!” As the office door burst open, I whirled toward Noel and all the others spilling in behind him, my thirst to punch more peaking.

But Pick stepped closer, lifting both his hands in a placating manner. “He’ll be fine, guys. Just give us a minute.”

Except it was obvious to everyone gaping at me and past me toward Pick’s ruined desk and computer that I was anything but fine.

Noel shook his head. “No way, man. We’re not leaving you alone with this psycho. What’s going on?”

I stalked toward him. “Are you deaf? He said leave us the f*ck alone.” I swung at him, but he ducked.

And my fist connected with the jaw of the guy behind him.

Ten immediately howled, clutching his face. “Shit, man. What’d I do?”

Instantly contrite for catching him and not Noel, even though Ten had annoyed the hell out of me the first day I’d met him, I took a step back, my fingers uncurling. The red disappeared from my vision, and as I blinked it away, the fury subsided.

“Sorry,” I muttered to my feet.

Oh, shit. I couldn’t believe I’d just done that. I was worse off than I’d originally feared.

But Ten’s muffled answer from between his hands, where he was still holding his face, shocked me. “Christ, you have one hell of a right hook.”

Boggled why he would sound impressed instead of pissed, I blinked at him, and more of my frustrated anger dissolved.

“Let me see,” Pick said, closing in on Ten and pulling his hand away so he could have a look at the damage. But Ten slapped him off.

“Fuck you, man, don’t baby me. I’m fine.”

“Whatever.” Pick slugged him companionably on the shoulder and said, “Put some ice on it. The rest of you, get back to work.” He directed his gaze to Noel. “Parker and I have a few things to discuss. I’ll send him out in a minute.”

Noel glanced at me, and he didn’t look like he was going to move any time soon.