Worth It (Forbidden Men, #6)(60)

Once we were far enough away that I felt safe to talk, I paused to wipe my hands over my face. Felicity blew out a breath and hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

“Your sister,” she finally said, “is...awful.”

I gaped at her, unable to believe my ears. “My sister?” I hissed. “I think it was your brother who suggested drowning Bentley in a river.”

“But she admitted straight to his face that she was only ever interested in his money. She got pregnant only to get money out of him.”

“And he was only ever interested in f*cking her.”

“Well, she should’ve known that about him.”

“Oh?” I lifted my eyebrows, unable to believe my ears. “So it was completely impossible for her to believe your brother might’ve actually liked her for her? It had to be about just nothing but sex, huh?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Is that what I should know about you, too? I should stop thinking you might actually like me for me, because no one could ever like a f*cking trashy Parker? You’re what, just experimenting with me before you get yourself a real boyfriend, someone who’s actually worthy enough to crawl between your sacred Bainbridge legs?”

With a gasp, City visibly flinched and jerked away from me.

I opened my mouth, unable to believe what had just rolled off my tongue. Regret ran like acid through my veins. I wished I could grab the words from the air and shove them back in my mouth, deep into my throat so she’d never heard such a vile, crude accusation, so they’d never existed, so I wouldn’t have even thought them.

I gaped at her, my skin turning cold with fear, not sure how to even begin to apologize.

She shook her head before I could formulate a response. “That’s not what I meant.” Her voice trembled and tears sparkled in her eyes. I fisted my hand, bringing it to my mouth, so ashamed of myself I almost started crying, too. “I wasn’t trying to say Mercy shouldn’t have assumed he might really like her. But she should’ve also known...well, he’s a teenage boy. Everyone knows the only thing they want is sex.”

“I’m a teenage boy,” I whispered, begging her to forgive me with my eyes. “Do you think all I want from you is sex?”

“No, of course not.” Narrowing her eyes, she fisted her hands at her side and snarled, “I’m a Bainbridge. You probably want money too.”

Then she whirled away and stalked off.

My mouth fell open, unable to believe she’d said that.

As parting shots went, that one had to be the best. It left me pummeled in the chest and short of air. I couldn’t believe she truly thought I was only with her because—

No, that didn’t make sense. We’d spent too much time together this summer, shared too many of our innermost thoughts and feelings. My City wasn’t like that.

The girl who’d hissed such an accusation had been a complete stranger.

Fisting my hands and clenching my teeth, I shook my head, refusing to let it go at that. I was going to make her admit she’d been lying. I was going to force her to forgive me for my idiocy, and everything was going to be fine again, damn it.

But when I got the end of the block and turned a corner, I stopped short when I saw her down the street, sitting at a bus stop bench and bawling her eyes out.

My chest squeezed tight as I watched the misery pour out of her. I’d caused this by flying off the handle in defense of Mercy. I’d made my favorite person on earth cry.

I almost fled in shame, worried everything was over. She’d never forgive me. We’d never be the same again, and what had started as the best summer of my life was going to end the worst.

Her sobbing got to me, though. Unable to let her cry alone, I went to her and sat on the opposite end of the bench from her. For a minute, I didn’t speak as she continued to cry into her hands. I shoved my hands into my pockets and squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could travel back into the past five minutes and not be such an ass.

Then I blew out a breath. “I didn’t mean it,” I said, my voice cracking on the words. “You know that, right? I was just upset, and defensive, and scared out of my mind that watching them was like some kind of awful preview of how we might turn out. I don’t know why I said it. It was so stupid. I felt sick as soon as the words came out. I thought I was going to puke. And I thought there was no way you’d ever forgive me. I’ll understand if you don’t, but I’m still sorry. I am so, soo....”

Slowly reaching out, I grazed my hand experimentally over her elbow to judge her response.

When she turned my way, I released a breath and gripped her arm before hauling her down the bench and into my lap.

“Sorry,” I whispered into her ear.

She curled into my chest and buried her face in my neck while her arms banded tight around me. I exhaled the most relieved breath ever. But having her turn to me for comfort after I’d been the one who hurt her broke me.

My eyes filled with tears. “I’m so damn sorry,” I repeated.

“I am too.” She sniffed. “I didn’t mean what I said about you either, but I did say it on purpose. I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me.”

I rested my cheek against her hair. “It worked.”

“I’m sorry, Knox. I shouldn’t have—”