Fighting Blind by C.M. Seabrook Page B

of the gym.
    “I can’t go in. Not yet.” I need to calm down before I see Logan. And I know Clair will have questions that I can’t answer right now.
    He touches my arm, close to where my mom’s nails cut through the skin.
    “Come up to my place. You need to clean these so they don’t get infected.”
    “Okay.” My voice is strangled and I can’t control the emotion that bubbles up, nearly choking me.
    I know it’s wrong, selfish, but as I follow Theo upstairs, all I want is to be wrapped in his arms, feel the strength of his body, and for just one night let someone else carry the weight of all my transgressions.
     
     

Chapter 13
     
    Theo
     
    I’m still shaking with anger when I open the door to my apartment. I’ve seen the evil witch at work before, but it’s the first time she’s ever hit Mac in front of me. Now I wonder how many times it’s happened before.
    If Mac hadn’t pulled me away, I’m not sure what I would have done. I’ve never laid a hand on a woman before, but today I came pretty close.
    “Sit,” I order, pointing at the couch.
    When I come back from the bathroom with the first aid kit, she’s sitting with her legs curled under her, arms wrapped around her chest. She looks so fucking vulnerable.
    “She has no right talking to you like that.” I crouch in front of her, opening the kit.
    Mac shrugs, like she’s about to tell me it’s no big deal.
    I take her arm and press an antiseptic wipe on the small cuts. “I mean it. If she ever–”
    “I won’t be going back.” Her eyes are vacant, skin pale, except for the redness where the bitch slapped her.
    I reach out and touch her cheek. She flinches, then relaxes, pressing her face into my palm.
    “I don’t think she hit you hard enough for it to bruise, but you should put an icepack on it just in case.”
    She reaches for my hand when I start to rise. Not letting go, she looks at me, then averts her eyes. “Don’t go.”
    She doesn’t need to ask twice. I sit down beside her, pulling her onto my lap. Her arms go around my neck and she buries her face in my shoulder. I expect her to cry, almost want her to. Anything but the detached stoicism that looms over her like a gray cloud.
    “I won’t let her hurt you again.” I run my hand down her back, feeling her relax into me.
    Her fingers play with the hair at the back of my neck, absently.
    “You want to talk about what happened?” I brush her dark hair behind her ear.
    She shakes her head, her fingers trailing down my chest, across my stomach, then back up.
    I take a deep breath and catch her intoxicating scent. She smells so fucking good, and my body responds the way it always does when she’s close.
    “Theo,” she says my name, almost desperately, her lips crashing against mine.
    I cradle her face, taking her kiss.
    Her arms slide around my neck, fingers knotting in my hair. She moans and I nearly come undone. I’m so fucking hard it hurts. If I wasn’t sitting, her touch would have drove me to my knees.
    She tilts her head, and her tongue slides into my mouth. Her hands move frantically over my body, until she pulls at the hem of my shirt, urgently tugging it over my head.
    Her lips are soft, but there’s nothing gentle about the kiss. It’s frantic. Desperate. Pained.
    My heart is pounding hard, but this isn’t the way I want it. Not when she’s upset.
    “Wait.” I grip her hands when I feel a wetness on her cheeks. “Mac, stop.”
    She buries her face in my neck and I can feel the sob that she’s holding back.
    I rub my hands down her arms, warming the goosebumps that cover them. Then press a kiss on her temple, stroking her hair back.
    Her breathing is labored as if she’s fighting off a panic attack.
    “What’s going on in that head of yours?” I tuck my thumb under her chin, forcing her to look at me.
    Her eyes close and her tongue darts over her swollen lips. I run my thumb over her cheek, catching a giant tear.
    My stomach twists at the