Worth More Than Money (Worth It 3)

Was she doing it?

I watched her grace all of those greasy, oiled men with her friendly smile while jealousy roiled in my gut. Why the hell was she looking at other men like that? Did she think she’d get better tips or something? I just handed her a wad of cash to the tune of two thousand dollars. What the hell was she still doing trying to peddle for tips? Was she that desperate? Another reason I had to figure out if that child was mine. If she didn’t have the means to take care of it and I did, then we needed to sit down and talk. Because she sure as hell wasn’t going to drain me of my money simply because I’d been neglectful of a damn condom.

Why the hell did I care what she did to get tips? She was a liar and a cheat. At least, there was the chance of that. And why the hell should I give her the benefit of the doubt? She was the one that ran this time. I told her to stay put so we could sort shit out, and she hauled ass out of town on a one-way bus ticket. Why run if someone didn’t have something to hide?

I wondered if my private investigator had the skills to get her medical records to me.

Maybe she’d already had a DNA test and knew who the father was. Or maybe she wasn’t pregnant at all. Holy shit, had Michelle had an abortion?

That didn’t make sense. My P.I. told me she had another appointment in three months.

Had she seen the baby? Was it growing like it needed to?

I shook the questions from my hand and continued to study her while she worked.

She continued to smile and be a little too friendly with the patrons and I continued to envision their deaths every which way possible. I wanted to beat the shit out of any man that looked at her the wrong way. That slapped her ass, asked her for a titty shot or made any sort of rude comment regarding her body. It took all the strength I had to keep my ass in my seat, because all of them would’ve been bloodied and bruised on the fucking floor.

Hell, I could’ve released my father on these assholes and watched them burn.

“Come on, beautiful. Just one dance.”

I watched one of the drunken lugs get out of his seat and put his hands on Michelle’s hips. I watched her shake her head and try to push him away, but the man kept pressing himself into her. Backing her into a table. I looked over at the man who supposedly owned the bar and his nose was down in his damn phone. He didn’t give a shit what happened to Michelle as long as she made him money.

“I have to cut you off,” Michelle said. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

“Then I can think of something to eat to soak up all this alcohol,” the man said.

In a flash, that man ducked down and put Michelle over his shoulder. She cried out and put her fist into the man’s back, kicking her legs as he carried her over to the dance floor. His hands rubbed liberally over her ass, as she struggled all the while. No one touched her that way. No one swooped her off her feet but me. Especially after she’d told him no.

I was out of my chair before I could catch myself and headed straight for them.

I tapped the man on the shoulder as Michelle continued to wiggle against his grasp. And when he turned to look at me, he gave me that once-over most men did. Sizing me up before trying to figure out if he could slug me and get it over with. Michelle grabbed the man’s wrists and tried to get out of his grasp before her eyes whipped up to my face, and it took all the strength I had not to break that man’s jaw on the damn spot.

“I’m pretty sure the young lady said she wasn’t interested,” I said.

“And I’m pretty sure you’re overstepping some boundaries,” the man said.

I watched his hand reach out for Michelle again and I lost my mind. I drew my fist back and popped the man square in his jaw, feeling it dislocate underneath the force behind my hand. He stumbled onto his ass while everyone in the bar got out of their seats, and then I heard the owner’s voice.

“What the fuck!?”

Yeah. He didn’t have an issue with Michelle practically being raped by a patron, but he had an issue with me punching the guy so he couldn’t drink anymore.

I had half a mind to buy the bar out from underneath him.

“Are you insane!?” Michelle exclaimed.

I whipped my wide eyes up to her as confusion filled my chest. She didn’t want me to slug the guy?

“Come on,” she said with a groan.

She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me outside while Trey or whatever the fuck his name was scraped the man off the floor. The doors swung open and the cool air of North Dakota hit me before Michelle whirled around and looked at me.

“What the hell was that?” she asked. “That guy has a table full of friends whose sole purpose is to come into bars and get in fights. It’s like a local sport around here. You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

“Where do I sign up to join the team?” I asked flatly.

She shook her head, her eyes wide as she raked her hand through her hair.