Worth It

“Hell, I know that.” Pick sent me a dry look. “I know that better than you do. But it’s not healthy to bottle it in either. You need a venting system.”



As he pulled into a parking lot, I focused on the building he’d brought me to. It was a gym, boasting of boxing lessons in the window.



“I’m getting you a membership here.”



I glanced across the interior of the car. Had he lost his mind?



“And you don’t think this will only evoke more violence in me?”



“Fuck, no.” Pick laughed and slugged me in the shoulder. “Trust me, man. Seriously, what is with everyone not trusting me lately? I have fucking awesome instincts. I know what I’m talking about.”



When he pushed out of the car, I did too, willing to try anything. My eyes about bugged out of my head when I realized how much he had to pay to sign me up to come here on a regular basis, though.



And when I tried to resist, he only held up a finger.



“Trust, my man.”



I shut my mouth but shook my head, tallying in my head everything I already owed him and would continue to owe him.



“Don’t even worry about it,” he finally said as if reading my mind. “Just pay it forward someday.”



I sniffed, not sure how I could ever give to someone what he’d given to me.



But I let it happen. I got a membership, and they set me up with a trainer, who wouldn’t be able to start working with me until Tuesday afternoon. But I was allowed to visit the weight room immediately. So I did.



Pick left me there, and I got started. My muscles were stiff because it’d been a few days since I’d worked out in the prison yard, but after some time on the leg curl, power rack, elliptical and butterfly press, I was feeling loose, and actually a lot calmer.



So maybe Pick might’ve been onto something. It made me want to hang out here all day. Except I hadn’t eaten since the night before, so I eventually returned to the Ryan apartment.



Eva fed me a late lunch, and the kids played around me on the floor until they fell asleep on me. Pick left in the early evening to get some work done at the club, and I headed out for a while, still uneasy about being left alone with Eva and the kids.



As I wandered through the city streets, breathing in my freedom and unable to believe I was really out of Statesburg for good, I thought of my woods. I missed the smell, the peace, Felicity. An ache grew in my chest.



When I passed a floral shop, I went inside to breathe in the closest scent of nature I could get. But it only made the pain throb more, so I left minutes later.



I found myself at Forbidden. She worked tonight and would’ve already started her shift by now. I watched the building, the front lights, and the line forming to get in as a doorman admitted the guests in small groups at a time.



She was in there.



I expelled a breath, almost settled to know she was so close. Even though I’d promised myself I’d leave her alone and not find out where she was, now that I knew, I relished the knowledge.



Since it was Friday, it was Asher’s night for his band to perform, and the place looked busy. It made me think they were a fairly popular group. He’d definitely had a nice voice last night when he sang to himself as he wiped down tables and swept the floor. I might have actually gone inside to listen to him if I didn’t know she was in there.



I didn’t realize how long I’d leaned against a building down the block, just watching the club, until employees started to exit. Finally, it occurred to me what a stalker I was being. Shit. Had I really been lurking here for hours, just waiting to see her?



When she exited, escorted by Mason, I tugged the hood of my sweater up and backed into a shadow. My greedy gaze gobbled her up as the two of them crossed the street. Mason politely remained by her car until she’d unlocked her door and waved him good-bye.



The beat-up junker she climbed into coughed to life, its one headlight spilling across the parking lot, and then it chugged clunkily onto the street.



I shook my head. What the hell was she driving? I wouldn’t even classify that piece of shit as a car.



Watching it disappear down the block and listening to it backfire after she turned a corner stirred a helpless frustration in me, that uncontrollable need to destroy I felt every time I thought of how the one summer I’d spent with her had ruined her entire life.



If only she hadn’t left her family, she’d probably be driving something luxurious and expensive right now, something safe that had no chance of ever breaking down on her or leaving her stranded.



That had been the plan. I’d done what her father had said so she would be okay and taken care of, so she could be safe and never have to drive a piece of shit car to a waitressing job, so she could follow her dream and go to college. But she’d ruined everything when she’d left them.