Page 149 of Protecting What's Mine
“No! Stop. It happened in Chicago yesterday. It has nothing to do with anyone here, so leave it alone.”
“You’re pressing charges,” Luke decided. “Let’s find her a lawyer. We can see if our patent attorney has any pals. Criminal and civil, right, Ty?”
“Did you talk to the authorities in Chicago?” Ty asked, all-business.
“Get someone aggressive,” Aldo suggested. “Someone who will take the toilet paper out of the fucker’s house as part of the settlement.”
“Stop.” Mack held up her hands. Unfortunately, the movement made the sleeves of her oversized sweater slide up her arm.
“Jesus Christmas,” Ty said, pushing one sleeve up higher. “You’re beat to hell.”
“Oh my God, guys. I appreciate the concern. But I’m handling this on my own. So I need you to get out of my house.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Aldo said firmly.
“Yes, you are. I’m not pressing charges against anyone.Ialmost got arrested. You can all go home, and we’ll never discuss this again. Got it?”
“Have you ever met any of us?” Luke asked. “Because that’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Let me tell you, Mack. Just because you think you can handle something on your own doesn’t mean you should,” Aldo said. “You can’t live your entire life independent from everyone else. Especially not when there are a lot of people who are willing to help. Let us help.”
“You can’t. No one can,” she said. It washerproblem. And she had to find the solution. “I’m not dragging anyone else down with me.”
“I’m gonna go make a few calls,” Ty said tersely. “And when I come back, we’re gonna have a talk.”
Ty walked out the front door.
“Aldo, you remember that time with the boxes?” Luke asked.
“Yeah. Creepy. Two women’s lives packed up all nice and neat like you can just hide them away. Fucking weird. Glad you got over that.”
“It’s my turn to be the voice of reason,” Luke told him.
“Got it. I’ll go make coffee,” Aldo said, heading into the kitchen.
“Just make yourself at home,” she called sarcastically after him.
“Sit down,” Luke said.
She was tired enough, sore enough, that she complied. He sat down on the sofa next to her, taking up too much space.
“Here’s the thing, Mack. You remind me of a stupid motherfucker I used to know.”
“I think we’re done here,” she said, rising.
“Sit,” he barked.
She sat.
“That stupid motherfucker was me.”
“Okaaaaaay.”
“I kicked Harper out of my house, my bed, my life because I was a stupid motherfucking chickenshit. That woman is everything to me. She’s given me a life I never thought possible because she was brave enough to go after what she wanted. She was willing to take the lumps and hang in there while I took my dumbass time catching up. I thought that my past determined who I was. I thought it set my course. I thought that trauma defined who I was.”
Mack stared at the empty fireplace and tried to pretend she wasn’t hurting in body and soul. That his words weren’t resonating in her bones like church bells.
“I was too fucking scared to let myself love her, to need her. And here was Harper, this beautiful, kind, stubborn woman who loved me so much she wouldn’t let me close down on her. I almost lost her, Mack,” he said, looking at her. “You’re going to lose Linc, and granted, I don’t love the guy, but if you don’t work through this shit now, you’re never going to have a chance at what I found with Harper. You’ll always feel alone.”
