Worth Every Cent (Worth It 2)

But a man already had. Dicked me well and broke my heart.

I slammed the door behind me, locking it so I could drown out Andy’s drunken rampage. I heard his muffled roars as he stormed into his house, then started yelling at our shared wall. I closed my eyes and blocked him out. Just like I had blocked Gray out when I left Anton’s house, walking away without looking back. Pulling out the deposit receipt, I looked at the number, my heart fluttering rapidly when I saw the amount.

Over seven thousand dollars in my account.

I walked into Cecily’s kitchen and shut the door behind me. Putting as much space in between me and Andy as I could, I put the groceries down on her counter and sat at her table. I pulled up website after website on my phone of apartments for me to rent. And some of them were even outside of Stillsville itself. I’d have to go back on the job hunt, but with my waitressing experience, I knew Brad would put in a good word for me. Even if I worked at another diner for the rest of my days somewhere else, it would be better than doing it in Stillsville.

With Andy yelling at me and Grayson’s memory haunting me.

I couldn’t wait to get out of Illinois for good.

Chapter 3

Grayson

I drove with the windows down and a grin across my cheeks. The smells of Illinois no longer made my nose crinkle. The second I’d set foot on my private jet to fly back out here, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. My focus returned. My head straightened out. Ghosts and memories no longer haunted me, but beckoned to me as I drove closer to the small town. Ever since I’d stepped off that damn plane and into my rental convertible, I felt lighter on my feet. Coming back to personally deal with Anton’s stuff instead of impersonally selling it off to the highest bidder filled a hole in my heart. Sure, most of the important things had already been dealt with, but there were enough odds and ends to merit my personal attention.

Though that small voice in the pit of my gut whispered that it wasn’t just about Anton.

Still, I kept my head in the game. Reconciling with that car was the last piece of this torrid puzzle. I drove through downtown, my eyes scanning the sidewalks. I kept my eyes out for Andy. Or the girl that slapped me across the face in the grocery store.

But a part of me was hoping to see a thick head of red hair walking down the road.

I pulled into the realtor’s lot with no signs of Michelle in sight. But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t there for her anyway. I’d made that mistake once, and it blew up in my face. Just like things in my life always did. I turned off my car and hopped out over the door, feeling happier than I had in weeks.

Now that wasn’t an emotion I attached to Stillsville every day.

“Mr. MacDonald, I’m glad you came in person. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise, Mr. Angier. I’m here to inquire about the offer on Anton’s house,” I said.

“Well it’s pretty straight forward. The buyer wants to initiate a walk-through before they make a steady offer. Though they keep asking what will be happening to the furniture in the house and on the porch.”

“That’s why I’m in town. I’ll take care of it,” I said. “Go ahead and set up the walk-through. I’m going to head back to Anton’s and get it show ready.”

“I’ll call your assistant once I get the showing set up, and—”

“No need. Here’s my cell number. Contact me directly once you hear something.”

I slid a card out of my wallet and handed it over to the man.

“Will do, Mr. MacDonald. I’ll call you the second I get something on the books.”

“I appreciate it,” I said.

I walked out of the realtor’s office with my head held high. Heading over to my convertible, I unlocked it, ready to slide behind the wheel and take in the scent of my hometown. I still didn’t understand all of the emotions coursing through my veins. Why I was so happy to be back, especially given the reason for my return. I suspected it had something to do with a woman I left behind, but even then the idea shouldn’t have given me so much joy.

I should have known something would have been creeping around the corner.

Lifting my head, I looked across the road and took stock of the old liquor store. The sign was falling off the building and the lights flickered. A damn electrical hazard was what that thing was. It was dingy. Always had been. But it was the man coming out of the store that caught my eye.

Discord rang through my heart as I watched my father stalk out of the store. He looked old. Worn. His jeans were dirty and there were holes in the knees. He had wispy gray hairs sticking out from his bald head, jutting every which way and lending a chaotic look to him I’d always known as a child. I hadn’t thought about my

father for years. Once I was drafted into the NFL with no one standing at my side, I had discarded him along with my mother—just like she had me.

But seeing him walking out of that store assaulted me with memories that made me hate the town I was standing in.

Memories of when my mother finally left assaulted my senses. She packed up without a sound and left me behind to contend with the asshole. I had convinced myself she was coming back; that this was just one of their fights where he’d tossed her out and she would come back. They always did that. All throughout elementary school. He’d get drunk, they would fight, she would leave, and then after a few days had passed, she would come back.