Fighting Blind Page 4

  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.

  Chapter 7

  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 releas
es 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.

  Chapter 8

  Present

  Mackenzie

  “You sure you want to do this?” Sylvia asks, helping me fold what few items I have.

  No. But Theo isn’t giving me a choice. And as much as I hate to admit it, I need his help. I’ve spent the last three years running from my mistakes. I don’t know if I can do it any longer.

  I glance at Logan, who’s sitting on the floor, chatting with her stuffed animals.

  My beautiful girl. She’s the reason I keep fighting.

  Big brown eyes, so much like Theo’s, look up at me. Full bottom lip, the slight cleft in her chin. Little things, small similarities, and I wonder if he’ll notice.

  He doesn’t remember.

  Any of it.

  That’s the only explanation I can think of for him not making the connection. And if he doesn’t remember…I shiver. Well, it changes everything.

  “He’s here.” A teen, with rainbow hair and a row of piercings above her brow, snakes her head around the door, and gives me a thumbs up.

  I manage a small smile, but my stomach is twisted in knots.

  What am I doing?

  “Mama.” Logan tugs on her ear and smiles up at me.

  The antibiotics are finally kicking in. Her fever is down, and she doesn’t seem to be in as much pain. But what if Theo hadn’t been there to pay for the meds?

  A knot forms in my throat. I know I’ve failed her. Love only goes so far. It doesn’t feed a hungry tummy, or provide a stable home, and it can’t pay for medicine for a sick child.

  It also can’t protect me from the man who’s been stalking me for the past three years.

  He found me twice. The first time was a few months after I left. I’d been staying in a shelter in Northern New York, looking for work, using my real name. Stupid.

  I didn’t recognize him until he had me cornered in a Denny’s restroom. He wore a baseball cap, and his dark beard covered most of his face. It happened so fast. I didn’t have time to react, before he had me plastered against the stall, his meaty hands wrapped around my throat, daring me to scream. Beat me up pretty good before an employee walked in. I was able to escape. Didn’t even go back to the shelter. Just hopped on a bus heading west.

  The second time was less than a year ago. I still don’t know how he tracked me down. I’d changed my name, and was working under the table. Still when the first letter came, I knew it was him.

  He was locked up. State penitentiary. And yet he’d found me.

  Each letter read the same. A date. September 23rd. And the harrowing words. You die.

  The date is only a few weeks away.

  A shiver races down my spine.

  “Mackenzie?” Sylvia touches my shoulder.

  I give her a small smile and nod. I need to do this–for Logan. A small sliver of stability in her otherwise turbulent world. Even if it’s just for a couple weeks.

  That’s all it can be, because my time is ticking down.

  Still…

  I can’t help the hope that stirs inside me, even though I know how dangerous it is. As soon as I figure out a way, I need to take Logan and run as far away from here as possible.

  “You ready, pretty girl?” I crouch low, and brush my fingers over her soft curls.

  “Mama, pretty.” She places a chubby hand on my cheek and gives me a big smile that brightens up her whole face.

  I fall in love with her all over again. In the hell that has become my life, she is my light. Without her, I am nothing.

  “Time to go and meet Mama’s friend.”

  She gives a small nod and takes my hand, tucking her stuffed monkey under her other arm and placing her thumb in her mouth. I’ve tried to break her of it, but she does it whenever she’s nervous, which has been a lot lately.

  With her tiny palm in mine, I exhale slowly and walk to the front where Theo is waiting.

  He’s leaning against the front door. A dark t-shirt stretches across his broad chest, exposing the tattoos that snake up his right arm. He didn’t have them when I left, but I know each one from the pictures online.

  His dark eyes catch my gaze and hold it for a long moment. My cheeks warm, remembering the kiss we shared in his car. I haven’t let myself think too much about the significance of it. Why, now, he chose to want me. If I do, I know I won’t have the strength to leave when I have to.

  “Hi.” He studies me, and I get the impression he’s ready for me to bolt.

  Logan hugs my knee, hiding her face. She hasn’t been around men, and I’m not sure how she’s going to be with him.

  The pressure in my chest increases.

  He doesn’t realize how significant this moment is, but I do. It’s the first time he’ll meet his daughter.

  Guilt creeps along the back of my neck. I know how wrong it is to keep the truth from him. What a coward I’ve been. And I know he’ll hate me when…no, if, he finds out.

&
nbsp; “Logan.” I place my hand on her head. “I want you to meet mommy’s friend.”

  Theo looks slightly uncomfortable, but he squats on the balls of his feet, and looks directly at Logan, giving her a dimpled grin.

  “I’ve got someone here who’d like to meet you.” He pulls a stuffed princess doll from a Toys “R” Us bag and holds it out to her.

  She looks at Theo, then up at me, brown eyes wide.

  “It’s okay,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile.

  Her fingers release me, and she takes a few tentative steps towards Theo, hugging her pink monkey against her chest.

  “Who do you have there?” He nods at the stuffed animal she clutches.

  “Monkey,” she says, handing it to him.

  My heart skips a beat. She’s usually possessive over the toy.

  “Well, hello Monkey.” Theo holds the doll up as if introducing her to the money. “This is my friend…Dora.”

  “No.” Logan giggles and shakes her head.

  “No?” Theo’s brows raise. “What’s her name then?”

  Logan scrunches her face up, as if thinking, then says boldly, “Pwincess.”

  “Princess?” Theo tickles her belly, and she hoots with laughter. “But I thought your name was Princess?”

  “No.” She giggles again.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Logan.” She still has a hard time pronouncing her Gs, so it comes out sounding like Lo-an.

  “Logan.” Theo beams at her, and she beams right back. Side by side, they are more alike than I thought. “Well that’s a very pretty name. My name’s Theo. It’s nice to meet you, Princess Logan.”

  She smiles, then wraps her arms around her new doll when he hands it and the monkey back to her.

  “You and your mommy are going to come stay with me for a little bit. Is that okay?”

  She gives a small nod, then glances back at me with a giant smile. “Look mama.”

  “I see.” My heart warms and yet feels like it’s been crushed at the same time.

  Theo stands, and his eyes return to me. “Is that all you have?”

  I glance down at the single suitcase I hold, more proof of how pitiful my life has become. “Yeah.”