Mackenzie

I haven’t seen Theo in two days. I’ve heard him come in and out of the building, his heavy footsteps on the stairs, the pause in front of my door. But he hasn’t tried to see me or Logan since I told him about her.

Not that I blame him. I know he’s angry, and he has every right to be.

I lied to him. Shit, I’m still lying to him. There’s still so much he doesn’t know.

My world has been slowly crashing down on me for the past three years, but it’s been on full throttle for the last two weeks, and I feel like I’m barely treading water.

I should tell him how I feel.

Right. I shake my head. Because that will make everything better.

Loving Theo Ryan used to be a minor complication in my messed-up life. Now, it’s a goddamn Greek tragedy.

I sip my coffee and rub the back of my neck, trying to shake the impending doom that hovers over me like a dark cloud.

The nursing application that Clair brought over sits on the kitchen counter, mocking me. A reminder of the dreams I once had. I run my fingers over the embossed print, fighting against the desire to believe in a future that doesn’t involve running.

I glance at the microwave clock while pouring a second cup of coffee. It’s already nine, and Logan is still sleeping. She never sleeps this late.

Slowly I open her door and peek in. Despite the loud creak, she doesn’t move.

The smell hits me instantly.

“Logan?”

A small whimper comes from the bundle of pink blankets. “Mama.”

“I’m here, sweetheart.” I drop to my knees beside her bed.

Vomit coats her hair, and when I touch her forehead, she’s burning up.

I curse myself for not checking on her sooner.

She’s limp when I pull her into my arms. Her eyes are half lidded, and her cheeks bright red. She starts to cry, but it comes out more as a pathetic whimper.

With her in my arms, I start a cool bath, and dial Clair’s number, getting her voicemail.

“Clair, please call me back when you get this. Logan is sick.”

I hang up, shifting my daughter in my arms, and I search frantically for the thermometer.

She won’t keep it under her tongue, so I insert it under her tiny arm and wait until it beeps. One hundred and two. Shit.

In the bathroom, I pull off her dirty clothes and rinse her down. My own sweatshirt is covered in God knows what, so I pull it off, stripping down to my bra.

She cries when the cool water touches her skin.

“Okay, baby girl. Almost done.”

Her eyes are glossy with fever and she can barely lift her arms when I pull her from the tub and wrap her in a towel.

“Mac?” Theo’s voice echoes through the door, followed by knocking. When I don’t answer right away, his fist pounds harder. “Mac. Open up. My mom just called, said Logan is sick.”

Logan won’t let me put her down, so I call out, “Can you use your key?”

I know he has one. And I’m right, because a few seconds later, the door handle rattles and he comes barreling down the hall and into Logan’s room, where I’m helping her into a clean pair of pajamas.

“What’s wrong?” Theo’s eyes drift down to my practically bare chest, then to his credit, shifts quickly to Logan. His brows furrow.

“Probably just a stomach bug.” My voice is calmer than I feel.

“E-O,” Logan pouts up at him.

“Hey, Princess.” He crouches down beside us and rubs a hand over her head, then glances at me. The concern I see in his eyes drives a stake into the already open wound in my chest. “What can I do?”

“There’s children’s Tylenol in the kitchen cupboard.”

When he’s gone, I blink back the tears that have formed and pick Logan up, carrying her to the living room where Theo meets me with the purple bottle.

“Can you hold her?” Not waiting for his response, I shift her into his arms and take the Tylenol from him. I nod at the couch and turn on the cartoon channel. “Sit, and I’ll give her the medicine.”

He looks slightly uncomfortable as he sits down, like he’s trying not to break her. Logan doesn’t seem to notice. Whether it’s the fever or the cartoon that she’s now tuned in to, she relaxes against his chest and takes the purple liquid that I spoon into her mouth without complaint.

“I need to strip her bed and do a load of laundry. Are you okay with her for a bit?”

When his eyes fall to my chest, I realize I’m still standing there in just my bra.

“Yeah,” he says in a choked voice.

I throw on a fresh shirt before returning with a sippy cup.

“Make sure she drinks something.”

He gives a small nod, his brown eyes unreadable.

“Thanks for coming over,” I mumble, then turn quickly towards Logan’s room.

Now that he knows about her, it seems that much harder to see them together. Clair’s right. Logan needs her father, and Theo deserves to be in her life. But with Stefano still after me, I don’t know how that will ever happen.

I strip Logan’s bed and throw the soiled blankets in the washing machine, then begin the tedious task of scrubbing the carpet and bed.

When I’m finished, I find Logan fast asleep in Theo’s arms, her dark hair damp with sweat, thumb half in her mouth.

“Her fever seems to have dropped,” Theo says.

I place the back of my hand on her forehead and nod. She does feel cooler.

“Do you mind if I have a shower? You can put her in my bed if you want, but I–”

“I’ll stay.” His jaw is set, his brown eyes hard as if daring me to challenge him.

I give a small smile. “Thanks.”

It’s probably wrong of me, but I’m glad Theo’s here. It’s the first time he’s been with her since I told him she’s his, and while I don’t expect anything from him, it does something to my insides seeing him with her.

Stripping out of my dirty clothes, I step under the warm spray and close my eyes.

How much easier would it be to stay? Maybe I could register for college. Work part-time at Charlie’s to help pay for it. I know Clair would help with Logan, and I’m sure I could get a subsidy.

I press my palms and forehead against the cold tile.

What’s the worst that could happen if I stay?

Stefano could find me. Find us.

I could go to the police. Tell them everything. But then what? It’s my fingerprints on the bag. The cab driver would recognize my face. I could end up being charged. Go to prison. Then what would happen to Logan?

Theo would take care of her. I flinch as the thought rushes into my head.

Despite the heat of the water, a shiver runs down my spine and tears prick at the edges of my eyes.

I feel the fight go out of me. I can’t do this anymore. The running. The hiding. The lying.

It’s time to tell him everything. Maybe he’ll hate me even more than he already does, but at least I won’t be hiding anymore.

There’s a sharp knock at the front door when I exit the bathroom.

Expecting Clair, I freeze with the door half open. The man standing on the other side isn’t just big, he’s a freaking giant. I stand there like an idiot, staring up at him, my mouth open and eyes wide. I recognize him from the gym. One of Theo’s training partners. Muscles, tattoos, a cocky smile.

Moody Brock.

One dark eyebrow raises and he smirks, his eyes lowering to where I clutch my towel protectively around my chest.

“Ca-can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Theo. He missed our morning training session. Is he here?”

“Yeah.” I shake my head and open the door wider, placing my finger to my mouth, so he knows to be quiet.

He frowns, then follows me down the hall to where Theo is spread out on the couch, his eyes closed, and a sleeping Logan in his arms.

The giant clears his throat.

Theo’s eyes open wide as if startled. He looks between us.

“Shit, man. You playing house now?”

Theo clenches his jaw, looking down at Logan. When he shifts to stand, I move quickly to take Logan from him. He hands her over with some hesitation.

“What’re you doing here?” He bites out, glowering at Moody.

“Saving your fucking ass. You missed training and there’s a media crew downstairs waiting for an interview.”

“Shit.” Theo runs his fingers through his hair. He looks at Logan, who’s starting to wake up, then up at me. “I can stay.”

“No.” I shake my head. “We’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” He stares at me, his brown eyes locked on mine.

“Yeah,” I say, forcing the word out of my mouth. I keep my expression light, trying to hide the anxiety stirring inside me.

I’ve been alone for three years. I don’t know why it bothers me so much now.

He gives a sharp nod, then starts toward the door. Moody shadows after him, like a brooding bulldog.

At the door, Moody turns to me and growls under his breath, “You better not be fucking with him.”

Stunned by the unexpected anger I see in his face, I just blink up at him. I know the look he gives me, what he thinks of me, and I shrivel under his dark gaze.

Theo must have caught the tension between us, because he turns and frowns. “You okay?”

I nod, not able to speak.

Moody pushes past Theo, continuing to mutter under his breath.

I start to shut the door, but Theo stops me.

“I’ll come back later.” His hand brushes over Logan’s curls. “Feel better, Princess.”

“E-O,” she mumbles past her thumb.

He sighs. “We’re going to have to work on that.”

I know what he means, and it makes my stomach clench. I don’t know if I’m ready for her to call him Daddy. It’ll change everything. Make it all that much more real.

But she is his daughter. I’ve already taken so much from him, and it’s obvious he wants a relationship with her.

How can I deny him that? Deny either of them that?

The realization of how selfish I’ve been slams into me, hard.

“You coming, man?” Moody yells from the bottom of the stairs.

I’m starting not to like the guy.

Theo exhales heavily, then follows after him.

I close the door, locking the deadbolt. My new reality sinks in.

No matter what happens, I now know that leaving with Logan isn’t a possibility.