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, and 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 had 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 our 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 kid’s 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 protests. 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.