Worth It (Forbidden Men #6)

Pick grasped Noel’s arm and hauled him into the hall. “He’s done raging out. I got this. Trust me.”

Noel opened his mouth to argue, but Pick shut the door in his face.

I shuddered and glanced at the broken desk and computer. All that needless destruction and yet Felicity was still a cheated-on, homeless waitress. “I’ll buy you new stuff to replace everything and find a different place to stay,” I promised. I knew I should offer to quit the job too, but Christ, I needed the money.

I hoped to God he didn’t fire me before I’d even started, though I’d totally understand if he did.

“No, you will not find a different place to stay,” Pick said as he turned to take me in. “And forget about the desk and computer for now. We’ll discuss that later.” But then he shook his head as if disappointed, and the shame spiked inside me.

I exhaled, deflated. “Fuck.” Sinking into a leather couch I’d left untouched, I buried my face into my hands and tried to will my fingers to stop shaking.

“She was supposed to go to college,” was all I could think to say. She was supposed to carry on and live her life to the fullest, be happy, content. Not make decisions based on me, which had led her to the crappy existence she had now.

A hand landed on my shoulder. “How she ended up isn’t your fault.” I glanced up at him, and he squeezed me tighter. “And I wouldn’t even say she’s that miserable. She’s actually a very upbeat person.”

Of course she was. She’d always been able to find the bright side of things. She wouldn’t be City if she couldn’t. And she’d promised me she would stay that way.

An ache spread through my chest. My eyes stung and my throat closed over.

But when I caught pity in Pick’s gaze, my jaw knitted. I hated letting him see me this vulnerable, hated that my eyes wouldn’t stop watering. So I growled, “What kind of fucked-up game are you playing? Why didn’t you tell me up front she worked here?”

“Because Felicity is my friend,” he started, and I tightened against the pain those words brought.

Once upon a time, she’d been my friend.

“Honestly, I hadn’t seen her since high school, not until a couple months ago when she learned I owned this place and came to me for a job. But since then, she’s become part of our family, so my loyalties are with her, which is why I wanted to tell her about you working here before I told you about her...in case she had a problem with it. Except I’ve been unable to reach her and therefore unable to clue her in to what’s going on.”

I shook my head, not sure if I bought his story. But I couldn’t think up any other reason why he’d shove us together like this. “And if she does have a problem with me working here?” I asked.

Pick shrugged. “Then I’ll help you find employment elsewhere.”

I nodded, respecting that for some reason, probably because he’d claimed his loyalty to her. I couldn’t outright hate him for backing her up. But still...what the fuck had he gotten me into?

I’d told myself I would not look her up when I got out, I would not find out where she was or what she was doing. I’d leave her the fuck alone, because that was what was best for her. Yet now I was working at the same goddamn bar as her? Because of Pick Ryan? It was all just...

“Unbelievable,” I muttered as I wiped my hands over my face and stood so I could pace the room. “Why did you even hire me in the first place?”

“A couple of reasons. I really do need another bartender, and I remember you. You have all the values I demand in an employee.”

I sniffed. “Values?” Spreading my arms, I motioned to his demolished office. “Did you not see what I just did?”

Pick glanced at his broken things impassively, then returned his attention to me. “What I saw was a man full of a lot of anger and resentment over the injustice he’s been served, over learning the woman he loves hasn’t had the easiest time of it. But I also saw a man who pulled back as soon as he struck out at one of my boys. I’ve seen someone gentle with my children, patient with my nosey wife, and respectful in my home. So, trust me. I’m pretty confident I have you pegged right, Parker.”

I snorted and glanced away, but the fucker kept talking.

“Let’s see. You came across a pregnant girl in trouble and got her help. Then, when you were left alone with her car, you didn’t take off with it even though you could’ve used the cash it would’ve brought you. Instead, you used the rest of all the money you had to clean it. Then you returned it to the hospital to see how she was doing.”