"Oh, shit. She used your whole name," Casey says. "If she is anything like her momma, that means you’re in trouble." He puts his hands on his hips, looking at both of them.
I fold my arms over my chest and wait to see what Ethan says. "You were the one who didn’t want to be involved." He points at her.
"And you were the one who put me in the middle of this." She advances on him. "So now is not the time for you to try to protect me.”
"She’s right," I hear myself say, and all sets of eyes swing my way. "She’s in this all the way."
Ethan shakes his head. "This is a bad idea," he mumbles.
"Did you find anything from the woods?" I ask, not sure I can take much more of not knowing.
"Nothing," Ethan says. "We checked everything, but we can’t see that far out."
"We are fixing that today," Casey says now. "I am having cameras installed all over this place. If a fucking squirrel eats a leaf, I’m going to find it."
I look at them, and I can feel I’m missing something. "What are you not telling me?"
"We found a couple of things," Casey says, and I can tell he doesn’t know how to start.
"When was the last time you used the name Braxton?" he asks, and my eyebrows pinch together at his question.
"I paid forty-seven dollars and twelve cents to change my name. I never used it again. Even when I joined the military, I used Mayson." I look at them both. "Why?"
"Seems like Braxton Michaels has left a hefty paper trail for the past eight years," Casey says. "How many credit cards do you have?"
"Zero." I fold my arms over my chest. "Pay cash for everything."
"According to your credit report, you have over thirty different credit cards," Ethan says. "All maxed out. All in collections."
"How the fuck can that happen?" I ask, and they exchange a look. My pulse kicks up a bit as I process the information.
"We need some answers," Ethan says.
"You aren’t the only one who needs fucking answers!" I almost shout. "I’ve kept my head down, and I never applied for a credit card. I don’t even have a fucking bank loan for the cabin." My hands go to my hips, and I try to reel in my anger.
"How is that possible?" Chelsea asks.
"I gave Ethan a good chunk down, and I paid him monthly." I swallow down. "With interest."
Ethan nods. "I have one bank account that my money is deposited to and that’s it."
I close my eyes now, the pounding in my head getting even worse. "In case you guys missed the memo, I don’t do material things. I have enough clothes for a week. That’s it. I have a truck that is paid for and the cabin." I look at Chelsea now. "Other than that, I have nothing." My pride be damned at this point. I have nothing to offer her. I have nothing to give her. I am nothing.
"There is more," Ethan says, his voice going low.
"How can there possibly be fucking more?" My voice is tight. My heart is pounding so fast it is going to look like I’m panting in a minute. "What else can there be?"
"We just scratched the surface," Casey says. "You have over twenty-seven apartments that you rented in twelve years."
"I’ve been on tour seven times," I tell them. "I signed up for every tour I was offered. When I was home, it was for a couple of weeks at a time, and I stayed in motels. Again, paid in cash."
"Does the name Rosalie Henderson ring a bell?" Casey asks, and I shake my head.
"Not in the least," I tell them, and I look over at Chelsea, who just looks down now. Her hands are now wringing together.
"Braxton Michaels married her four years ago." I stare at him, my mouth going open.
"Excuse me," Chelsea says, walking toward her bedroom. I want to chase after her, but I know that if I do, there will be even more questions, and I definitely don’t have the answers to those either.
"Wait!" I shout, and she stops mid-step. "I don’t know her," I say.
Ethan looks at me and then looks at his sister, and from one look, he knows something is up. "I mean, she was thirty-five," he says, and Chelsea turns around.
"Well, did anyone go to her and find out who she is?" I ask. "Do we have an address? Let’s go find her, and she can tell you she didn’t marry me." I look at them back and forth.
"She died two years ago," Ethan says, and he looks down and then up again. "Left at the emergency room hospital. Beaten so bad her head was mush."
"Oh my god," Chelsea says and puts her hands to her mouth.
"My father," I finally say, everything fucking clicks into place. "My father stole my identity." Rage rips through me. "I never even thought about it."
"That is what we think, too," Casey says. "I have my guys going through all the paper trail. But I’m going to be honest, there is a fuck ton of it."
"Great," I say, shaking my head and wiping my face with my hands. "Just fucking great. This makes no fucking sense." I look at everything. “I was so fucking careful. I covered my tracks. How did he find me?”
"That is what we are trying to find out. I will let you know when I have something else," Casey says, and he turns to walk out of the house. Stopping at Chelsea, he whispers something in her ear. She smiles at him, nodding her head.
"I have a bag in the car," Ethan says. "More clothes since you can’t stop fucking up the ones I already gave you." He turns to walk out of the house, leaving Chelsea and me alone.
"Now do you see?” I look at her as soon as the front door closes, and I know I don’t have much time. It isn’t going to take him long to get the bag and come back. I am not wrong, I don’t even have time to say anything else.
He walks back in with a green Army bag so full the zipper doesn’t close. "My mother," Ethan starts to say. "Well, she found out, and things just got out of hand. She called the girls, and they went on a buying spree. They did it in turns so no one would be on to them." Chelsea laughs, closing her eyes and holding her forehead. "I’m not even kidding. They thought they were so smooth. But they went to the same store." I want to laugh at that one.
"Let me know how much I owe you," I tell him as he just laughs.
"Have you not met my mother?" he asks me, and he just shakes his head. "She won’t take a penny from you."
"But…" I start to say.
"But nothing," Chelsea says now. "It’s rude to say no to a gift. It’s their Southern charm."
"I’m going to head out and pass by the command post," he says, and I nod at him.
He walks out, and I stand here in the middle of Chelsea's house. "We need to talk," I tell her.
"Yeah," she says, and I can tell she is ready for a fight. Her shoulders go square, and her back goes tight. "We do."
"Good." I swallow the lump that has risen from my stomach to my throat. "So you understand."
"Oh, I understand all right," she says, not moving from her spot. I just look at her blue eyes and her lips that I want to spend the night kissing. "The question is, do you understand?" I look at her, not really knowing what is going on. "Before you asked me ‘now do you see.’" She doesn’t even give me a chance to say anything. "I see everything very clear, do you?"
"Yeah, I do, and it’s fucking bleak," I answer her.
"Then we aren’t looking at the same thing," she says, and she comes to me now. I should move away from her, but my feet feel like they are stuck in concrete blocks. "This is what I see," she tells me, standing chest to chest with me. I look down at her as she looks up. "I see someone who was dealt a bad fucking hand." My eyes stare right into hers. "I see a man who has risen from the hell he has been in. I see a man who deserves all the colors in the world." She steps even closer to me. "I see a man who deserves all the love in the world." Her hand comes up to cup my face. "I see a man who deserves people who stand with him and protect him." I want to say something to her, but nothing comes out. "I see a man who deserves everything."
Chapter 16
Chelsea
I look into his eyes and lay it all out for him, his eyes filling with water. "You and me, we see different thing
s."
I put my hands on his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat racing just as fast as mine is. "Well, then we see two different things," I say softly. "Just like the sunrise." The same sunrise we’ve been watching for the past week and a half.
“I can’t give you what you want,” he says, looking at me, his eyes almost dark from his emotions. "I have nothing for you," he says, the last words going lower. "And you"—he pushes back the hair from my face—"you deserve to have someone who can give you everything."
His hand goes to my cheek, and I feel his fingers on my face. My whole body wakes up. My hand leaves his face and goes to the wrist that is holding my face. "I’m looking at him," I whisper. His head turns to the side now, and our lips hover so close to each other.
He’s going to have to make the move, I tell myself. It’s up to him if this kiss is going to happen. I need to know he wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him. Our mouths open as he slowly closes the distance, and his tongue comes out. My tongue slides with his as his hands move from my face to my hair. He cups my head in his hands as he deepens the kiss. He closes his mouth a bit, turning to the other side, and my hand comes up to hold his face. His beard makes my hand tingle as the butterflies in my stomach flutter everywhere.
"Chelsea." He says my name now in almost a plea when he lets go of my lips for just a second but then comes back to kiss me. His tongue comes out to play with mine once again, and my arms wrap around his neck. My eyes fly open when he stops kissing me but doesn’t move away from me. "This is wrong." He looks at my lips. “I’m too old for you.”
"This," I tell him, swallowing, and rubbing my nose with his, then kissing his lips softly, "is the smartest thing I’ve ever done." I kiss him again. “I’ve waited a long time to take that chance and kiss you,” I say, going back to his lips. “Every single time I saw you, I would think about how it would be like to hold your hand. To lean over and kiss you.” He looks at me, and I hope he hears my words.
The front door opens, and I jump away from him. "Hello," I hear Amelia say as she walks into the room, both of us standing close to each other. Her eyes go from me to Mayson. "Hey," she says. "The door was open." She uses her thumb to point over her shoulder. "I’m sorry. I can come back."
"No," I say, my voice coming back to me. "It’s fine. I was just checking his bandages."
"I was wondering if you wanted to go for some lunch." Amelia comes in more now. She is the same age as I am, so we grew up more like sisters than cousins.
"You should go," Mayson says, and I look over at him.
"I’m not leaving you here alone," I tell him, then I turn back to look at Amelia, who is watching our exchange with eagle eyes. "I can’t leave him alone."
"No problem," she says. "Quinn is on his way."
"There, I won’t be alone," he says. "I’ll be fine."
"Go change," Amelia says, and I look over at her and glare. "You have blood on your shirt." I look down and see that I have a couple of spots of blood.
"Fine, I’ll go change." I look at her. "There is still breakfast on the counter," I tell Mayson, who nods at me and walks over to the island. Amelia looks at him and then at me. Her eyebrows rise, and I just shake my head. I turn around and walk to my bedroom, knowing I will have to talk eventually.
I slip on my khaki linen shorts and grab a white sleeveless shirt, tucking it in the front. I slip on my caramel Tory Burch flip-flops. Walking to the bathroom, I wash my face and look at the little red spots around my lips from his beard. I smile if just for a minute and then tie my hair back.
When I make my way back to the kitchen, I see Amelia is standing in the back of the island chatting with Mayson, and she throws her head back and laughs. She smiles when she sees me. "Ready?"
"Yeah," I say. "Can we wait for Quinn?" I ask, walking to sit on the stool next to Mayson.
"I’m here," Quinn says, coming in the front door. He looks at us. "You can go now."
"Jesus Christ," Mayson mumbles, and I look over at him. He looks sideways at me. "I don’t need a babysitter."
"I’m not babysitting anyone," Quinn says, going to the fridge, opening it, and sticking his head inside. Grabbing the plate of pie I have in there, he asks, "Is there ice cream?"
"As if I would have apple pie without ice cream," I say, getting up now. "If you need me, call me," I say, grabbing my purse. I take one more look at Mayson before turning to walk out of the house.
"So," Amelia says from beside me, and I look over at her. Her blond hair is blowing in the wind.
"Can we get into the car first before you start?" I ask, not looking at her as she laughs. "I hate you." I open her truck door and get in.
"You hate me because I see right through all the bullshit." She chuckles, starting the truck and not saying a word.
I look out at the trees as we drive into town. My eyes roam everywhere now as I try to see if anything is in the dense trees. You can’t see shit, and I close my eyes as the sun hits my face.
We get to the diner, and I get out of her truck. This diner has been around since our parents were in high school. It’s the place to be Friday night right before the football game or Saturday night if the fair comes to town. "I’m going to get a cheeseburger," I say as I slam the door shut. "With sweet potato fries," I tell her, laughing, and feel eyes on me. I turn around but seeing no one there, I tell myself it’s all in my head.
Walking into the diner, I say hello to mostly everyone. Living in a small town, you know everyone. There are no secrets in small towns, and if there are, eventually they come to light.
"Good morning, beautiful girls," Heloise says, coming over to us. "I’ll get you two strawberry milkshakes in just a minute," she says, walking past us now toward another table.
"Do you think she’ll ever see us as grown-ups?" Amelia asks me, looking around. "So what’s new?"
"Oh, fuck off," I say under my breath, looking around to see if anyone is out of the normal. If there is a weird face anywhere.
"Such language for the perfect child." She makes fun of me, and I glare. "But honestly, are you okay?"
"No," I say, avoiding her eyes and grabbing the menu that hasn’t changed in over twenty years. "And I know what you're going to say."
"Really?" She sings the word. "And what do you think I’m going to say?”
"That it’s stupid to get involved," I say, my eyes roaming over the menu. "That I shouldn’t go there, and that I’m only going to get my heart broken."
"Among other things," she says, and I know she’s staring at me. "It’s dangerous." I shake my head. "Okay, I know you’ve been hot for him since, I don’t know, you were eighteen, but we always knew he was hiding something."
"Um, we did not." I scoff at her. "We thought he was mysterious."
"You thought he was mysterious." She points at me. "I thought he was creepy." I glare at her. "I mean, he was always hot but creepy."
I laugh now and don’t say anything to her because Heloise puts the milkshakes in front of us.
"I have your cheeseburgers coming up," she says, walking away.
"I guess we both get cheeseburgers," I say, looking down. "I like him a lot. I always have." I look at her, and she tilts her head to the side. “Oh, I always thought he was hot.”
"Do you think he knows?" she asks me, and I shake my head.
"How could he know anything?" I tell her. "He’s busy trying to be the man he already is." I shake my head. "He brought Grandma flowers last year when he came to visit. She blushed, and he didn’t even see it. He’s oblivious," I admit. "He’s oblivious to any good deed he’s ever done because he’s too busy thinking of that one bad one. He carried Gabriel in his arms for two hours because he fell asleep and he didn’t want to wake him up. Or when he stayed two days to help Grandpa build a fence." I look at her. “He’s the man he wants to be,” I say softly.
"You think you can make him see?" she asks, and I look out of the window now. I suddenly feel eyes on me, and I look back into the restauran
t. My eyes roam around, seeing if anyone is looking at me.
The front door opens, and my heart is beating so fast I almost jump out of my seat when I see the new barn manager come in. Asher spots us and holds up his cowboy hat. "Holy shit," I hear Amelia mumble and look over at her. "Is he coming over here?"
My eyes go big when I look back and see him coming to the table now. "Afternoon, ladies," he says, his accent very, very soft.
"Hey, Asher," I say. "How are you settling in?" He started working for my uncle Casey a month ago.
"Starting to feel like home," he says and looks over at Amelia, giving her a small smile. "If you’ll excuse me, I have to get food for the boys." He turns on his cowboy boots and walks to the counter.
"He’s a strange one," I say as I watch him.
"He is not," Amelia says, and it’s my turn to look at her now.
"Interesting," I say to her and laugh. It’s her turn to glare. "You know that your father—"
"Okay," she says, putting her hands on the table.
"I’m going to go and order Mayson something," I tell her, and she just nods at me. I get up, and I can swear I still feel eyes on me. I look around as I walk to the counter. Asher grabs the big box of takeout containers and then smiles at me when he walks away. He takes one final look at Amelia before walking out. I order a cheeseburger to go and walk back to the table.
"What’s wrong?" Amelia asks me as I sit down.
"I feel like I’m being watched,” I tell her, looking around. "It’s probably all in my head."
Heloise brings me the container, and I smile at her, and we walk out of the diner. The wind blows my hair back as I look over to the side and see a man standing just looking at me. I stop walking when a school bus driver stops right in front of him.
"What’s the matter?" she asks, and when the school bus leaves, the man is gone.
"There was a man there." I point at where the man was standing. "Did you not see him?" I look around, going into a circle as my hands start to shake. "He was right there." I point at the empty space where there are only trees now. "Did you see him?"
"No," Amelia says, coming to grab my hand. "Let's go now." She pulls me toward the truck now. My feet move as fast as I can while looking around to see if the man is there again.
Southern Heart Page 9
