Theo

I shouldn’t go after her, but I do.

After a quick apology to my manager, I grab my keys and run to my GT350 that’s parked outside the gym. I rev the engine and gun it in the direction Mac took off. It takes me ten minutes to track her down.

I’m almost ready to give up when I finally see her. Arms wrapped protectively over her chest, gray hood pulled tight around her face. She makes a quick right and jogs down a side street. Her shoulders are slouched, and everything about her body language screams defeat.

The area isn’t one I normally frequent. The buildings are old, crumbling, many with boarded-up windows, marked with graffiti. Yellow flyers litter the streets, and I have to dodge an overturned garbage can that rolls off the curb towards me.

Who the hell does she know in this neighborhood? My initial suspicion that she’s messed up with drugs, or worse, creeps back in my mind.

I pull the car to the curb when she enters a building. The sign above the door reads Prospect Place Women’s Shelter.

It takes a few seconds for my brain to register what the place actually is.

“What the fuck?” My gut does a three-sixty and adrenaline courses through my veins like it does right before a fight.

I open the car door and realize that I’m still naked from the waist up. There’s a club t-shirt in the backseat. I grab it and pull it over my head.

When I enter the building, a middle-aged woman with silver-streaked hair, sitting behind a large desk, looks up and frowns.

“Excuse me, sir, but you can’t be in here.”

“I need to talk to Mackenzie Brooks.”

“Who?” She eyes me with suspicion, brows drawn down.

“The woman who just came in.”

Her thin lips purse and she studies me through dark-rimmed glasses. After a few seconds, she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.”

“Well, make it possible.” I place my palms on the desk and lean forward. “I’m a friend and she needs my help.”

“Sir, if you don’t leave, I’m going to call the police.” Her eyes have rounded and her hand rests on top of a retro-looking phone.

“I need to speak to her. Now.” My voice is louder than I intend, and by the frown on the woman’s face, I can see my tactic isn’t getting me anywhere. I take a deep breath to steady my growing frustration, and say more evenly, “Can you please let her know that Theo Ryan is here to see her?”

The phone is now at the woman’s ear, her other hand hovering over the number pad. “Sir, you need to leave–”

“It’s all right, Sylvia. I know him.” Mac stands a few feet away, and she looks scared shitless. Her eyes dart from me to the room she just came from, then back at me.

“You know the rules. No men allowed.” The woman glances between us, clearly convinced I’m some psycho ex intent on doing her harm.

I don’t blame her. I know my presence can be a little intimidating on the best of days. And right now, anger is warring with emotions I can’t even name.

“It’s okay. He’s leaving.”

“Like hell I am.” The words come out sounding like a growl.

Mac moves across the room, grabs my hand, and pulls me out of the building and onto the empty street. When we’re alone, she snaps, “You followed me?”

“You need to start talking.” I grip her hand when she tries to pull away. “What are you doing here?”

She inhales through her nose, looking anywhere but at me, and I know she’s about to lie to me again.

“It’s only temporary. I’ll be gone in a few days.”

That’s what I was afraid of.

“You need cash. How much?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. Really.”

“Bull-fucking-shit, Mackenzie. You’re staying in a goddamn homeless shelter.” I get in her face, forcing her to look at me. “Now, tell me what the hell is going on.”

Her silence adds to the anxiety creeping into my chest.

I let go of her hand and drag my fingers through my hair in order not to strangle the truth out of her. I can tell she’s fighting back tears, but right now, I don’t care. All I want is to get her out of this hellhole.

“Let’s go.” I grip her elbow and turn her back towards the shelter.

“What’re you doing?” She pulls her arm back.

“Get your things. You’re coming home with me.”

“Theo.” She shakes her head, and something flashes behind her eyes. Resignation? Regret? Fear?

There was a time when I could read her every expression. Now, she’s guarded as if she hasn’t decided whether or not she can trust me.

“What happened to you?” I want to pull her against my chest, hold her until she sheds the tears I know she’s holding back.

Despite everything, the need to protect her, to take care of her, is overwhelming.

“It’s complicated.” She tilts her head back, closing her eyes, and I watch her pulse thump in her throat.

“I don’t care how complicated it is.” And I don’t. I just want her safe. “Get your stuff and let’s go.”

Her eyes open, and what I see guts me. Pain. Grief. Shame.

“There are things you don’t know.”

“Then tell me.”

She shakes her head.

A door chime rings, and a younger woman with purple-streaked hair pokes her head out and motions to Mac.

“I’ve got to go.” Her voice is quiet, resigned.

I step in front of her before she can make an escape. “Let me help you.”

Her hands go to my chest to push me away, but I catch them there, pulling her towards me. She glances up, her brown eyes huge, her mouth only inches from mine. I hear her small intake of breath as her lips part.

“What’re you doing?” Uncertainty flashes across her face.

“Let me help you,” I repeat, my voice lower, huskier than before.

Her hands snake around my back and she rests her forehead against my chest. I pull her tight, reveling in the warmth of her body. My muscles tense in awareness of how perfectly she fits against me.

I breathe in her scent, not wanting the moment to pass. “Let me fix this.”

“You don’t even know what I’ve done.” Her voice is muffled against my chest. “If you knew, you wouldn’t…I can’t do this.”

Christ, doesn’t she know how much I care about her? Nothing she could tell me would ever change that.

“Whatever it is, it’s in the past. Come home with me and we’ll figure things out.”

She shakes her head against my chest and mumbles incoherently. When she pulls back, there are tears running down her cheeks and her eyes are red. I know before she says the words that she’s going to run again. Whatever she’s hiding, it’s obvious she doesn’t trust me with it.

A cold chill wraps around me when she drops her hands and takes a step backwards.

“I need to go.”

“Mac.” Her name comes out as a rough plea, and I see her flinch.

“Don’t come back,” she whispers before disappearing through the shelter doors.

Like hell I won’t. Losing her once nearly destroyed me. I won’t lose her again.