Fighting Blind (4 page)

I gasp, tilting my head back, as he tastes and probes, doing things to me I’ve only dreamed about. I spread my legs, rocking against his mouth, wanting more, but not knowing what.

I can’t take much more. It’s like I’m on the edge, ready to explode. The pulse between my thighs intensifies, radiating through my body. I suck in a gulp of air, gripping the pillow as if it’s a lifeline.

He thrusts a finger inside of me, then another, while his tongue flicks faster against my clit.

Pleasure shoots through my core, and I cry out his name as tremors rock my entire body.

Holy hell.

I’m momentarily stunned. Blinded by pure bliss.

“So sweet.” Theo moves, spreading my legs further apart until he’s resting between them.

I can feel the length of his erection against my thigh. His pants are around his knees and he’s hard as a rock.

His mouth is on mine again, the weight of his body pressing against me. I shift under him, so that the head of his cock is pressed against my slick entrance. Every cell in my body cries out for him to fill me, to possess me. Even if it’s only for one moment, I want to belong to him. Completely.

In one swift motion, he drives inside of me.

I’m not prepared for the initial pain, and I suck in a sharp gasp. Theo doesn’t seem to notice because he continues to move, thrusting in and out, until I’m nearly crying with the agony of it.

I want him to stop, but all I can do is claw at his shoulders, praying it’ll end soon.

It doesn’t take long. He thrusts one last time, and I hear his cry of release.

“Shit,” he mumbles, laying heavily on top of me, all of his weight pressing me into the soft mattress. “So good.”

I push on his chest and he lifts slightly.

His eyes are glazed when he stares down at me. He blinks, brows knotted in confusion.

“Mac?”

Mortification fills me. Who did he think I was?

He rolls over on his back, groaning, holding his head.

I take the opportunity to squirm off the bed, pulling my bra and shirt over my chest. There’s a wet slickness between my legs and I cringe when I look down and see blood.

My pants and underwear are at the bottom of the bed. I grab them, and quickly put them on.

Theo is laying on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. His mouth hangs open, and a soft grunt-like snore makes him stir.

He’s passed out?

Pain radiates in my chest and I can’t breathe. What have I done?

I watch him for a moment, not knowing what to do next. Do I leave? Stay? I’m terrified to do either.

Slowly, I move to the bedroom door, blinking back tears.

I want him to stop me. To call me back into his arms. To whisper words of comfort. But he’s passed out. He may be drunk, but that only makes me a bigger idiot.

I needed to go home. Have a shower. Sleep. I’ll figure things out in the morning. Everything will be okay. It has to.

Anyway, I have more important things to worry about. Like getting the bag to Stefano.

The bag.

Shit. Where is the bag?

I look under the bed, rummage around the room, the hall. Even though I know I never went in there, I check the kitchen, living room and bathroom.

Dread chokes me. Even as I tear Theo’s apartment apart, I know I’ve lost it. My knees give out on me and I fall to the cold, tiled floor when I finally remember where I left it.

The cab.

I’m so screwed. 

Present

Theo

The sky has turned black. Much like my mood. I grip the paper bag, marked Logan Mitchell in my clenched fist, and despite the rain pelting down on me, I walk slowly towards the shelter.

My mind is spinning with possibilities. I know that I hold a piece of the puzzle in my hand and it scares the shit out of me. Whoever this Logan is, I’m certain he’s the reason Mac left.

Jealousy boils inside of me and my fists ache to hit something.

Maybe I’m overreacting. It’s not like Mac owes me anything. But the thought of another man touching her guts me.

My breath is uneven, my pulse erratic when I finally enter the cold, rundown building.

There’s no one at the front desk.

Knowing I’m breaking all the rules, I storm through the foyer and down a narrow hall towards the sound of women’s laughter.

A glass door separates me from a large eating area filled with a dozen or more women. I scan the room, not seeing Mac, then freeze.

I have to blink several times before my brain starts to work again.

In the far corner of the room, Mac sits in a rocking chair consoling a crying toddler. The kid’s face is blotchy and wet with tears. She tugs continuously at her ear, and I remember the bag I’m holding. Mac’s words.
An ear infection
.

What the hell?

Whatever I thought I’d find, this isn’t it. 

It didn’t make sense. But hell, nothing had since she’d left.

“Sir,” A woman’s alarmed voice rings out behind me. 

“I know, I know, I can’t be in here.” I hold up the bag and nod towards Mac. “I have the kid’s medicine.”

The woman’s lips purse, then she gives a quick nod and pushes through the glass door.

I can’t hear what she says, but I see Mac’s face pale, her eyes widen. Then she passes the crying kid to the woman, and turns towards the door. I see the moment she realizes I was watching her. She knows I know, and there’s real fear in her face.

It pisses me off. Mostly because it confirms my fears.

The door opens slowly, and I can see the wheels spinning behind her beautiful eyes. Already she’s trying to come up with some sort of lie to shield me from the truth.

“I–”

“She’s yours?” I growl out.

Mac nods.

My head is spinning.

She has a fucking kid.

I stare, dumbfounded. Mac never slept around. Ever. In fact, as far as I knew, she’d still been a virgin the last time I’d seen her.

“Theo, I–”

“Who’s the father?” The words are forced, almost broken. Part of me doesn’t want to know.

She flinches and her arms wrap protectively around her chest. Her bottom lip is cracked and bleeding from where she chewed on it.

“Answer me.”

“Just some guy,” she whispers, looking down at the floor.

Bullshit. The Mac I knew would never have sex with ‘just some guy.’ She’s lying. Why?

I shove my hands into my pockets to stop myself from grabbing her, demanding she tell me, so I can crucify the son of a bitch.

And I will.

“I want a name.”

“Why?” She shakes her head, still not looking at me. “What does it matter? He’s not in the picture.”

“So he got you knocked up, then left?”

“It’s not like that.”

She’s defending the bastard?

“You have to go,” she says, her voice flat and empty. “And I need to give her the antibiotics.”

I grip the bag, not wanting to hand it over. Knowing she’ll leave the moment she has it. But I’m not that much of an asshole to keep the kid from getting better. I hand it to her, locking gazes when our fingers touch.

I take a deep breath, and try to sort through the blur of thoughts racing through my head. One thing’s for certain, now that I know she has a kid, I’m not leaving her in this dump. Mac may have made some fucked up choices, but that isn’t the kids fault. I don’t want to leave her here another night, but if this is going to work, there are things I need to do first.

“I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to pick you up.”

Her back stiffens with resolve, and she starts to argue, “I’m not–”

“You’re moving into the apartment above the gym.”

“I already told you I can’t–”

“I’m not giving you a choice. I have no clue why you kept this from me, but right now, I don’t give two shits. All that matters is that you and the kid are somewhere safe.”

“Logan,” she says softly, looking through the glass door. Her eyes soften when she says the kid’s name. “Her name’s Logan.”

My chest tightens. “It’s a good name.”

She gives a small nod. “You need to go before Sylvia calls the cops.”

“No more games, Mac.” A fire burns deep inside of me, fueled by the need to protect her, to make her mine. I lean forward and give her a look that lets her know I’m not fucking around. “I’ll go now, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Theo–”

I bring my hand to her face and brush my thumb against her lips, stopping her protest. I press my mouth to hers, gently, letting my lips linger while I breathe in her scent.

“Tomorrow,” I say against her mouth, before turning and heading out the way I came.

Whether she likes it or not, she and the kid are coming home with me.

Three Years Earlier

Mackenzie

I debate whether to wake Theo. I’m desperate, but he’s passed out, and I’m not ready to face the awkwardness between us.

I dig through my purse and find my phone. It takes three failed attempts before I’m able to make my fingers work enough to dial the cab company.

A woman’s voice bristles on the other end.

I don’t let her finish before I burst out, “I left my bag in the back of one of your cars.”

A short silence, then the tapping of a keyboard on the other end. “Do you know the driver’s name, or the cab number?”

Shit. Of course I don’t. I close my eyes and try desperately to remember anything about the driver, and come up with nothing.

He picked me and my friend up outside Charlie’s Pub & Grill less than an hour ago.”

“And you’re sure it was our company?”

“Yes.” No. Tears sting the back of my eyes.

“If you give me your name and number I’ll make a note for when the drivers come off their shift.”

“I can’t wait that long.” Then fear punches me in the gut. What if they open the bag? I don’t know exactly what’s in it, but I can guess. Drugs. A lot of drugs.

I’m totally and completely fucked. If the driver hands the bag over to the police and they can connect me with it, I’ll go to jail.

“Ma’am?” The woman is still talking. “If you give me your number–”

I hang up.

A sharp pain starts in my chest and radiates down my arms. I’m too young to have a heart attack, but the possibility seems extremely likely right now.

I walk the streets until my feet blister.

My brain is fuzzy, my body aching. I go back to Charlie’s, but it’s closed, and the cabs are already gone. I think about going to the cab company, but if I show up and they’ve opened the bag, then I’m doubly screwed.

What should have been one of the most monumental nights of my life has turned into a nightmare. Worse, because you can at least wake up from a nightmare. There’s no way I’m getting out of this intact.

Either Stefano is going to kill me or the police are going to arrest me.

There’s a suitcase in my room, under my bed, packed in case of an emergency. I need to get, then get out, before Stef realizes what I’ve done.

Despite what happened between us tonight, I know Theo will let me crash at his place. At least until I figure out what to do. Where to go.

It’s late, or early, depending on which way you look at it, when I reach my house. The lights are off. The sky is a dark purple, meaning the sun will be up soon.

I fumble with my keys, dropping them once before I’m able to steady my hands enough to get it in the lock.

Get the bag and get out.
I repeat the mantra in my mind.

Slowly, I open the door, trying not to make a sound.

“Where the hell have you been?” In the shadows, Stefano is sitting in the worn out La-Z-Boy, watching me, eyes hooded and dangerous.

Every cell in my body goes on high alert.

I think about running. No. He might be big, but he’s fast, and I’m exhausted. I wouldn’t make it to the sidewalk before his big, meaty hands would be wrapped around my neck.

It was stupid coming here. But none of my actions tonight have been very smart. Maybe if I just tell him the truth…

“Where’s the bag?”

“I–”

He stands slowly, and one of his eyes begins to twitch. He’s big. Not Theo big, but Goliath big, and scary as hell. When he strides towards me, I know I’m trouble.

“I’ll get it back. I promise. Just give me–”

He’s on me before I have a chance to react.

“Where’s the bag?” His fingers thread through my hair, yanking my head back.

“I-I lo-lost it.”

He backhands me so hard, I literally see stars. I thought it was just something in the cartoons, but no, there they are. Bright, white stars, blurring the grotesque face in front of me.

“What do you mean you lost it?” His foul breath is hot and sticky against my cheek.

I need to bite my lip to keep from passing out or puking.

“It wa-was a-an accident. I left it in th-the cab–”

His fist slams into my stomach, but the way he’s holding me I can’t buckle forward, and my cry sticks in my throat. He lands another shot and I’m pretty sure he’s cracked a rib.

Bile rises in my throat.

“You left it in the fucking cab. Are you really that stupid?” He tightens his grip in my hair.

“I’m sorry.” Tears blur my vision, burn my eyes.

“You will be.”

I see the flash of metal, before I feel the cold steel against my throat. The blade cuts into my neck and I cry out.

He’s going to kill me.

“Do you have any fucking idea how much that bag was worth?”

He draws the blade lower along my collarbone, down to my breast, pulling my shirt down with it and grazing the skin.

“I’ll get it back.”

“Damn fucking right you will.” One hand is around my throat, cutting off my airways. He digs the blade deep into my left breast, twisting.

The pain is excruciating. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Sweat beads on my forehead, and it takes all my strength not to pass out.

“Stef?” My mother’s worried voice carries down the hall.

His fingers tighten momentarily, then he releases me.

I choke and cough, buckling over.

“Two days,” he sneers, pulling the switchblade back and pocketing it.

He doesn’t need to verbalize the threat. I know what he’ll do to me if I don’t get the bag back.

My mother leans unsteadily against the wall, obviously still drunk or high from whatever poison she put into her body last night.

She looks between me and Stefano, frowning. “What did she do now?”

What did I do?

In that moment, I hate her. No. I despise her.

“We’re just having a little chat.” Stef says, dark eyes glittering with malice. 

My mom staggers forward. She puts her arms around Stef’s barrel-size chest and frowns at me as if I’m a five year old with her hand caught in the cookie jar. She doesn’t seem to notice the blood that trickles down my neck and chest, staining my shirt.

I want to scream at her. This is all her fault. If she hadn’t brought the bastard into the house, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have been forced to take that damn bag in the first place.

“Come to bed.” She pulls on Stef’s arm.

His breathing is labored, the threat in his eyes clear. He points at me with a big, meaty finger, and snarls, “Two days.”

My breast throbs like a heartbeat where his knife dug deepest.

When their bedroom door shuts, I race down the hall and grab the emergency backpack from under my bed. I add a few more things. A small photo album. My grandmother’s ruby ring. The gray sweatshirt Theo gave me last Christmas. Anything I have of any value. I don’t plan on coming back.

The sun is low in the sky when I finally stumble down the hall of Theo’s apartment. My entire body feels like it’s on fire. I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I rest my forehead on the door and knock.

No answer. He’s probably still passed out.

I keep banging. “Theo.”

The door creeks open. I press my palm against it, pushing, but the chain stops it from opening fully.

What the hell? “Theo?”

“He’s sleeping. What do you want?” A blonde peers through the slit. Her hair tousled, makeup smeared. I’m pretty sure she’s wearing one of Theo’s shirts and nothing else. 

I didn’t think there was any emotion left in me, but I was wrong. I’ve heard of people talk about a broken heart, but I’d never actually experienced it until this moment. My chest feels like it’s been split in two. I can’t breathe.

“Are you all right?” She opens the door a crack more and I recognize her. She’s one of the girl’s Theo’s friends were hitting on at Charlie’s. “You’re that waitress, right? You want me to tell Theo you stopped by?”

Stopped by?
I’m pretty sure the synapsis in my brain have stopped firing.

I stumble backwards blinking, trying to right the world, but it just keeps crashing down on me.

I don’t think, I just run. I don’t even think about where I’m going. I just know I have to get away.

Far away from Theo, Stef, and this godforsaken town.