Worth It (Forbidden Men 6)

I fell in love once.

It was amazing. She was amazing. Life was amazing.

I lived for each time I could see her, and nothing else mattered, not that our families were enemies, our time together was forbidden, or we had to meet in secret.

Our love could conquer all.

Until it didn’t.

So I was ripped away from the love of my life and shoved into hell, forced to continue without her.

It shattered me, broke the best parts of me, left me permanently damaged.

Or so I thought.

Years later, I swear history’s trying to repeat itself because she’s back in my life, and I’m just as drawn to her as I was before. But I’m older and wiser now, and I know she should stay away from a worthless piece of ex-con like me.

So, I will not let her in. I absolutely refuse to hurt her. I will keep her away.

Then again, sometimes risking your greatest fear to get to a smile makes everything worth it, and besides, I’m not sure I can resist her, anyway.

This is the story of how Felicity Bainbridge changed my life forever, starting one summer day long ago after I was forced to change a dirty diaper...

--Knox Parker

For the ladies at Wild Bananas.

Thank you so much for your stimulating visual inspirations, the peek into your bunker, and all the fun—though sometimes bloody—support!

This shank’s for you!

“Happy families are all alike;

each unhappy family

is unhappy in its own way.”

--Leo Tolstoy, from Anna Karenina

I loved the woods behind my house, from the fresh scent of pine to the crunch of twigs underfoot and especially those stray ribbons of sunlight that streamed through the tree limbs. But mostly, I cherished the absolute absence of human intervention. God, did I adore the quiet scuttle of squirrels pillaging through the foliage, birds chirping their daily chorus, and the flutter of the breeze through the hollows, like the breath of nature, whispering her secrets to me.

So I’d sought the woods with my e-reader almost every day this summer, escaping either my mother, my father, or both my brothers, pretty much my entire life in general. It was one big happy retreat.

I had no idea why I hadn’t come out here before this year. The quiet, relaxing solitude was addictive. And there was so much of it. My father owned a half-mile strip through the forest—or three hundred and twenty acres, as he would classify it. The only other property to butt against ours was the Parkers’, and their place was clear on the other side, so I had the entire three hundred and twenty acres all to mysel—

“Watch out!”

Startled out of my peaceful reverie, I whirled around, clutching my Kindle to my chest. But what...how...? Someone else was in my woods?

No!

Except there was no way to deny he was charging directly toward me as if the hounds of hell were after him.

Oh...crap.

He tried to stop and avoid a collision. I could tell by the way his arms flailed through the air as if he were grasping for invisible brakes, and by the widening of his eyes...right before he plowed into me with a jarring thud.

The breath snapped from my lungs. Momentum from his run propelled me backwards and him forward. There was a brief moment when we were both soaring through the air that our gazes met in the hazy, pollen-clogged afternoon. His enlarged brown eyes filled with horror. Mine, fear. That’s all we had time to do, share a single look—I didn’t even get in a good scream—before we landed, him on top, me crushed beneath with my back to the forest floor.

The fall didn’t knock me unconscious, which was disappointing since the pain was immediate, searing up my spine and exploding out all four limbs.

For a dazed moment, we lay together, a tangled knot of arms and legs. He crushed me to the earth with his warmth and the sharp incense of boy.

I’d never thought of what boys might smell like before. But he certainly didn’t exude snips and snails and puppy-dogs’ tails. He was musky and fresh with a hint of apple.

And then his smell was taken away.

“Oh...shit.” He did an awkward crablike crawl to scramble off me, making me moan as his weight lifted and the release of pressure brought about more sensation, like that new throb of agony to my hip.

“Are you okay? Hey.” Hands gripped my shoulders and shook. When I did nothing, because the wind was still knocked from me, he said, “shit,” again. “Wake up. Please wake up. I’m sorry. I—shit...you have to be okay.”

Fingers skimmed over my face and into my hairline, boy fingers, containing the slight rasp of callouses against the softest part of my cheek.

Boy.