Page 153 of Protecting What's Mine
“That one was from my mom’s new boyfriend,” she said bitterly.
She had a series of short scratches just under her scar. They looked like fingernails.
“The neighbors rightfully called the cops, and my dear mother and psychotic sister told the police I started it.”
He released her arms and whipped out his phone. He dialed blindly, his vision going red with rage. “Jillian? I need you to book me a flight to Chicago. Get me there today.”
Mackenzie’s eyes went wide and horrified. “Don’t you dare!”
“You’re not running away from home, are you?” his sister asked.
“I’m going to go tell Mack’s family in person if they ever so much as think about sending a text message to her, I willendthem,” he said succinctly.
“Stop it,” Mack said. “You can’t go there.”
“End them. Got it. Can you fit in a middle seat?” Jillian asked.
“You can’t ever meet them,” Mack whispered. She was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering. She didn’t seem aware of the tears that coursed down her cheeks.
“Call you back, Jills,” he said and disconnected. He grabbed her harder than he meant to and gathered her against him. “Okay. It’s okay, baby. Just hang on to me.”
Stubbornly, she stayed stiff in his arms for a beat before slowly wrapping hers around his waist and hanging on for dear life. The feelings. Rage and love and fear and hope pummeled him from the inside out.
“It’s okay, Mackenzie,” he promised, stroking her hair, her back.
He vowed it would be. Whatever it took. He would make this okay.
“Is Sunshine with you?” she asked softly.
“No, baby. But I can get her here.”
She sighed against him, and he buried a hand in her hair, holding her to him.
“I guess you’ll do for now.”
“You need to talk to me. And then I need to talk to you,” he said gruffly. “Or maybe I should go first.”
“Can I shower first?”
He moved them both toward the stairs. “What are you doing?”
“I’m showering with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight, Dreamy.”
Upstairs, in the tiny bathroom, they both undressed. He kept a tight lid on his anger when he saw the bruising on her ribs. The scrapes on her shoulders.
The handprints, man-sized, on her biceps and forearms made him clench his jaw so tight his head hurt.
She was strong. She wouldn’t let this hurt last. But he wanted justice. He wanted to ruin the people who’d done this to her. Who’d so stupidly, selfishly tried to hurt what he loved.
He cranked the water in the shower to just below scalding and pushed her gently under the water. The stall was so tight there was no way to not touch each other. He didn’t even try to give her space, running his hands over her body, reassuring himself that she wasokay. She washere.
“Let me,” he said, taking the bottle from her. Her shampoo smelled like flowers and herbs when he squirted some into his palm. As gently as he could, he massaged it into her hair, rubbing her scalp in slow circles.
She sighed, bracing her hands on the wall in front of them, her back to his front. His cock had thoughts about her wet, naked body sliding over his. Enthusiastic ones. But Linc wasn’t going to let anything derail him from what he needed to do, to say.
Mackenzie turned in his arms. Her nipples puckered as they skimmed his chest. Goosebumps rose on her arms at the contact. “I’ll do you,” she offered.
Wordlessly, he handed her the shampoo and knelt before her. He rested his face between her breasts while her hands worked gently through his hair. Her touch, the soft curves of her breasts, the steady beat of her heart soothed away some of his rough edges.
