Worth Repeating (Worth It All Book 1)

by Elizabeth Perry

  She has no memory of the way that things went down between us. In fact, she has no memory of me at all. She didn’t even recognize me.

  Whatever accident she had, was a terrible one. It was bad enough that she now looks to her parents for answers, when honestly, those are the exact two people that she should be running from. And also, let’s not forget to mention the fact that she also had an ice skating rink sitting on her most important finger.

  Even still, even while wearing another man’s ring, she came to me for answers. She came running back to me.

  And instead of helping her, I sent her away.

  I’m either doing her an enormous favor, or I’m hurting her, yet again. The answer to that should be obvious, and yet, it’s not. And even I know that no matter how many times I beat the shit out of this bag, the madness in my head isn’t going to stop until I have the full story.

  Fuck.

  As I climb out of the ring, dragging my weary ass towards the back of this gym, that I bought five years ago, without even realizing it, I stop at the back door. I stare out towards the back parking lot, and all of a sudden, memories that I’ve kept tightly under lock and key flood my mind, making it hard for me to even take a breath. I swear to God, it’s like I can almost see her, I can practically feel her, and hear the sounds that she made that day, in this exact spot, as she gave me the most precious gift that she had to give.

  I knew better, even back then. I should have pushed her away and told her to leave. I remember trying to do that, but I was too late. I’d already felt her. I’d already ruined her.

  It was too late. It was always too late.

  As I lean against the wall, visions of her overtake me. I honestly can’t make them stop.

  It’s been years since they’ve haunted me, since those piercing blue eyes threatened to ruin me.

  Yet, here I am again, stuck in this place drowning, in the bluest eyes that I’ve ever seen.

  4

  Abby

  Ancient History

  “You’re going to be heading to Harvard and studying pre-law in the fall.” My mother casts her cynical gaze upon me, one that I’ve experienced countless times in my eighteen years on this planet. “And it is not open for discussion, Abigail. Your classes have all been assigned. Your room and board have been paid in full. This was all part of the deal, spoiled girl. One last summer, and then the real world will strike. You are a Daron, and with that name, comes grand responsibility. Your father and I expect you to act accordingly.”

  I snort, which makes my mother’s eyes flash. Since the day that I have been born, she has drilled into my head how a lady should act, and I can tell you from experience, snorting isn’t a part of that. But then again, neither is having an opinion, or god forbid, having dreams of my own.

  I’ve been expected to sit primly and properly, only speak when I’m spoken to, and make sure that my outward appearance is always complete perfection.

  I should have known better than to try to bargain with the woman sitting before me. I shouldn’t have even bothered to play into her sympathies. I already know that where I’m concerned, she has none. I sometimes wonder if she disliked me from the moment that I took my very first breath, or if perhaps, she just grew to despise me a little more every day, as she realized that I would never be the type of daughter that she wanted.

  I’m not beautiful like she is, and I’m certainly never put-together in the way that she would prefer. Summer Daron is the epitome of perfection, at least, on the outside, she is. Her nails are always perfectly manicured, her expensive clothing tailored to fit her svelte body like a glove, and every strand of her golden blond hair always twisted meticulously on back of her head, not a strand out of place.

  But while her outward appearance is that of sheer perfection, on the inside, she is absolutely ugly.

  She’s never truly cared about me, at least, not in the way that a mother should. Which is precisely why I shouldn’t have even wasted my time here today, trying to convince her that instead of forcing me to go to Harvard, she should instead allow me to go to culinary school in downtown Chicago. The amusement in her eyes at my request hardened my heart, making me feel nothing except hatred towards her. She had laughed at my plea, and told me that baking was a hobby, not a career choice.

  “Seriously, Abigail.” She had rolled her eyes immediately. “You have next to nothing to offer a man of stature. A solid, Ivy League education is your only shot at ending up in the proper social circles. Baking is for the help, dear. It’s high time that you accept that, and follow the path expected of you.”

  As she begins to dismiss me, anger bubbles up inside of me. Usually, I just walk away from her like an injured dog, with my tail between my legs. Today though, I can’t help myself. The words begin to flow out of my mouth before I can even think about them, but I don’t regret them. Not even slightly.

  “You expect me to follow your path, so please tell me. Does my path include sleeping with my tennis instructor? Because we both know that you do. In fact, from the sounds of it, you’ve slept with half of the help at the country club.”

  Her eyes flash.

  “Considering that I’m not a whore, I just can’t fathom following your path. You sit here and preach to me about how a lady should act, but ladies aren’t supposed to spread their legs for every man that shows interest. Plus, you sleep with the help. So, you shouldn’t talk down on them, at least, not when you’re fucking the majority of them.”

  The way that her eyes flash and her cheeks flush, I wonder if she’s going to hit me. She looks like she wants to, and in a way, I hope that she does. Perhaps then I could actually feel something.

  I’m so fucking sick and tired of feeling nothing.

  “Abigail Nicole Daron, I will not allow you to speak to me in that manner. You spoiled, selfish little brat! When your father comes home…”

  “He’s not going to do anything. He’ll be too busy trying to wash off the scent of his secretary’s perfume to try to punish me. And, you’ll forget all about it, after you let dear old dad pull all of those bobby pins out of your hair and fuck you into oblivion, even knowing that he already did the same with his secretary before coming home.”

  Her hands fist at her sides, and she leans towards me. Hit me, bitch. I glare at her. I dare you.

  As her fist rises, I wait for it, staring hard at her, mocking her with my eyes, and waiting for her to strike. But just as fast as her fist raised, it lowers back to her side, and she instead smooths out an invisible wrinkle in her well pressed skirt.

  Summer Daron is always a lady, even though deep down, she’s nothing more than your basic hoe. My only goal in life, is to be the furthest thing from her.

  “You will be heading to Harvard in the fall, Abigail. That is final.”

  “We’ll see about that, Summer.” I smirk at her. “We’ll just see about that.”

  I march out of the room, not even glancing back to see how angry she is right now. She hates it when I call her Summer, but frankly, she isn’t deserving of the title of Mom anyways. The only motherly thing that she’s ever done for me is to carry me in her womb and schedule a C-section. Everything else has been a wash.

  I storm out of the house, jump into the brand new Mercedes that was given to me as a graduation gift, and peel out of my driveway. I’m still shaking as my car turns out onto the road, but the further that I get from my parents’ home, my personal fucking prison, the more that my anger fades.

  There is no way in hell that I’m attending Harvard in the fall. I have no interest in attending that school, and I have no interest in the real reason that my parents are sending me away to an Ivy league school, when to be honest, I didn’t even have the grades to get in there.

  They are only sending me there, so that I can snag myself a man who comes from money, with a solid last name, and then, the expectation is that I become the next Stepford wife, just like my mom.

  I snicker to myself at the thought. There is absolutely no
way in this world that I’m following in her footsteps. No way at all.

  I’m all done following her rules and letting her map out the course of my life. For once, I’m ready to do something that only I want. Something that I crave.

  I’ve been so good over the years. Too damn good, actually. I’ve smiled when I’m supposed to. I’ve kept my legs closed, and my head high. I’ve told myself that by staying away from boys, I was staying far away from ever following in my mother’s footsteps. I’ve been determined not to get sidetracked, but I think I’m done avoiding the obvious.

  I don’t even know which part of him ignited this fire inside of me. Maybe it was his words that started the flame, but the way that his lips felt on mine definitely caused it to erupt. For the last week, I’ve fantasized about the way letting him wreck my body would feel. I’ve touched myself, with visions of him flooding me. I’ve moaned his name all alone, in my bedroom, and now it’s high time that I give in to what I know that I so desperately need.

  I want out of this prison. I need the chance to be free. I’m so desperate to feel something, that turning around isn’t an option.

  Maybe I’m a fool for being drawn to him in this way, but I don’t even care anymore. Liam Worth is my only chance to escape this hell. Even if it’s just for today, I’ll take it.

  I’ll take whatever scraps of affection he can give me.

  I park my car in the desolate lot, staring up at the building in front of me with anxious anticipation. I’ve never really been on this side of town, the part of town known as the Bricks, for obvious reasons. Brick buildings, government run housing projects, cover every square surface of this place.

  I’ve driven through it a few times, but never by myself. It’s the type of place that you get detoured into when there is road construction. It’s the type of place where you check twice to make sure that your doors are locked and breathe a sigh of relief once you’re finally out of it. This is a bad part of town. The worst, actually. It’s the type of place where people go missing and no one even reports it. I’m more than a little bit out of place.

  My visions of rebelling grow dim, as fear takes over. Across the street, are a few men grouped together, their eyes locked directly on me. They look like gang bangers, who are up to no good. And me? In my flashy new Mercedes?

  I look like bait.

  I’m a few too many steps away from my car to turn back. The men have already crossed the street and are heading directly towards me. One of the cat calls to me, while the other just smirks at me like a canary ready to eat his dinner. If I had any hesitation about stepping inside of Liam’s gym, it’s gone now. In fact, I have no other choice.

  I have no idea what these men have in store for me, but I’m guessing that at the very least, it’s to rob me. My stomach turns at the other possible options. I pull open the heavy metal door, my nerves wired so tightly, that as I run into a thick wall of man, I scream.

  “Abby?” Liam’s eyes widen. I’m shaking so much that it barely registers how lucky I am that he is here. Or am I? I barely know the guy.

  He stares down at me, immediately noticing the fear in my eyes. He shoves the door open, staring out at the pack of men who have now, stopped dead in their tracks.

  “Stay here,” he growls, dropping his gym bag on the ground, and marching out of the doors. Most of the pack scatters before the door even slams shut. The one who was calling out to me, however, doesn’t look happy to see that I was actually here to see Liam.

  I hear shouting. I hear a scuffle, and then, the sounds outside are drowned out by the sound of my heartbeat ringing in my ears. I’ve never been so afraid in my life.

  Time ticks by slowly, as I stand in the dimly lit hallway, steadily awaiting my fate. I can actually hear my mother telling me what a stupid girl I’ve been, showing up here on this side of town as if doing so wouldn’t put everyone in danger.

  I wonder if Liam will hate me now, or if he’ll regret speaking to me to begin with.

  I’ve always been pretty damn good at creating messes. This one might just be the biggest one yet.

  After what feels like forever, the door opens. Terror takes over me, until I see Liam’s eyes focused on mine. He’s all alone, looking fairly unscathed, except for a new bruise forming on his cheek.

  My stomach instantly sinks.

  “What in the hell are you doing here, Abby?” His voice is low and gruff, and he sounds borderline angry. I instantly hang my head.

  “I’m so sorry, Liam. I didn’t come here to start trouble. I just…” I just what? Got into a fight with my mom over not wanting to attend the Ivy League college that she already paid for? Good lord, it sounds ridiculous. I’m angry over my privilege. I feel like a complete fucking joke.

  “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe here for you.”

  Numbly, I nod.

  “Right. I’m so sorry. I, ah…” I can’t find my words. Between the adrenaline still pumping through my veins and Liam’s warm, delicious, male scent wreaking havoc over me right now, my head is a mess. Plus, I feel straight up stupid. I mean, how pathetic.

  A gorgeous man spits a few lines of game at me, kisses the daylights out of me, and suddenly I’m showing up in a town that I don’t belong in, ready to…ready to what? To throw myself at the guy?

  He must think I’m insane. I bet he feels sorry for me. I wonder how many other women have been foolish enough to do this exact same thing over just a few pickup lines and one measly kiss.

  But, my God, that kiss. I’ve never felt anything like it. The way that his lips felt on mine made me feel powerful. It made me feel in control, when in fact, my life is so out of my control that it’s not even funny.

  I wonder if he can sense my desperation. I can feel it radiating off of me and slamming into him. I should be embarrassed. I should care. But I don’t. All that I care about right now is feeling his body pressed against mine.

  I want him. I fucking need him.

  Please don’t let him send me away.

  He moves even closer to me, anger still flashing in his eyes. But as they flicker, I see another emotion there. I can’t make it out completely, but it looks a lot like uncertainty. I recognize it, because I feel it too.

  “Why did you come here today, Abby?” I love the way that my name sounds as it leaves his lips. It’s dark, dirty, and sounds a bit dangerous. It sounds more like he’s panting it mid climax than simply saying it in our current situation.

  “I wanted to take you up on your offer.” There. I said it. I almost can’t believe that I said it. It sounds so bold, so daring. So unlike me.

  But I’m sick of being me. I’m sick of being Abigail Daron, puppet of the master, Summer. I want to be different, someone who makes their own choices and lives their own life. For the very first time in my life, I’m aching to be different, and I’m desperate as hell to be free.

  At my words, his entire demeanor shifts. His eyes flash, but his anger fades as quickly as it started.

  He inhales sharply, and then his dark and brooding, yet beautiful, eyes lock with mine. He takes a step closer to me, which causes my breath to catch.

  Desire pools inside of me, my stomach twisting in so many delicious knots that every inch of me is on high alert, waiting to see what he plans on doing next. I don’t have to wait long, though. He pauses for just a second in front of me, before placing one finger underneath my chin and forcing my eyes that keep turning towards the floor, back up to his.

  “Did you come to give me another one of your firsts?”

  My eyes close, and I nod.

  His breath leaves his mouth in a hiss. I lean forward, allowing myself to breathe in deeply, every last sinful drop that is Liam Worth. My eyes are still closed, but they don’t need to be open. I know that his mouth is moving towards mine. I can literally feel it happening.

  His lips brush mine gently at first, teasing me and testing me, much like they did the first time that he kissed me in the park. Foolishly, I open my mouth for him at
the same time that he pulls his head back. As my eyes pop open, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

  “So fucking sweet,” he mutters, right before his entire demeanor shifts. His hands grab onto my face, and this time, as his lips crash back onto mine, there’s nothing gentle about it.

  My hands are moving all over his body, feeling every ripple in his skin, as his mouth works its magic against my own. I feel my body being lifted against his. I’m so lost in his kiss, that I really ‘t care less that I’m now in his arms and that we’re moving to a different location. I hardly notice anything at all.

  I’m lost in a trance where Liam is in total control, and yet, with every moan that leaves his mouth, I feel powerful. A door slams shut behind me, and as it does, my T-shirt is pulled over my head. Liam’s hands move down my arms, raking lightly over my breasts, until finally landing on my wrists. My arms are pushed back behind me as his mouth travels down my skin. Every nerve ending in my body is firing, sending so many signals that my brain can’t keep up.

  I barely feel his fingers working on the button of my shorts, but I most definitely feel when his fingers begin to trail over my panties. It feels so wrong, but yet, at the same time, nothing has ever felt more right. I have no idea what I’m even doing.

  This is all so foreign to me, but Liam seems to know exactly what to do. I try to push the vision of how many times he’s done this out of my head. That’s useless knowledge, anyways. I’m here to be different. I’m here to rebel.

  I’m here to finally feel something.

  And feeling something has never felt so fucking…oh. His name leaves my mouth in a rush as his finger dips inside of me. His hand feels so much better than my own, that I can’t keep my cries inside. I don’t think that I’m even breathing at this point. I think my brain forgot that part, but luckily, Liam’s mouth finds mine again, and as he gasps into my mouth, I inhale, taking his breath as my own.