We walk back toward her truck, and I get in. My eyes go everywhere once I get inside the truck. I look everywhere as she pulls out of the diner parking lot. When she turns, I can see someone in the woods. "There!" I shout at her, and she looks over, and he’s gone again. "He was right there."
Chapter 17
Mayson
I sit at the counter and finish my food right next to Quinn. Neither of us says a word, and the food feels like a brick in my stomach.
I toss the food around on my plate, waiting for Quinn to say something, knowing he has things to say. I get up, walking over to the sink and turn the water on to rinse off my plate.
"If you hurt her…" Quinn says, and I look over my shoulder at him. I turn off the water and put the dish in the dishwasher.
"I have no idea what you mean." I avoid his eyes. Quinn and I have always been cordial at best. We even shared a laugh a couple of times. But we’ve never been best friends.
"You can’t be that stupid," he says, putting down the spoon in his hand.
I turn, leaning on the counter, and cross my legs at the ankle. "Again," I say, "I have no idea what you mean."
"You had to have seen it." He looks straight at me. "She would always use excuses to be next to you." I swallow now, and I don’t say anything, giving him ample time to say more. "Like coming to the barn to check on her horse when you were in there." I remember exactly what he’s talking about, but I don’t tell him anything. "Every time you came to one of the Sunday dinners, she would always be right there next to you."
"Doesn’t mean nothing," I tell him.
He pushes off from the island and comes over, putting his plate in the dishwasher. "If she gets hurt," he says, his tone tight, "no one is going to save you from me."
"If she gets hurt," I say the words, the burning coming to my stomach, "someone is going to die."
I push off from the counter now and walk over to the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, I put my head back, looking at the ceiling, and close my eyes. I knew the game she was playing. I knew the signs. I just didn’t know that someone else was watching. I would always look around when it was the two of us, looking to make sure that no one was watching us. Usually, it would be just Amelia.
I’m about to lie back on the bed when I hear the crushed rocks and the sound of running. My heart speeds up, and I jump up, almost running out of the room when the front door swings open.
Her face is filled with tears, but it’s her eyes that make me take a step back. Filled with fear. Filled with confusion. Filled with all the things that they shouldn’t be filled with.
Quinn is beside me and now past me to stop her. "I saw," she says, now hyperventilating. I look over at Amelia, who is looking out the front door right and left and then closing the door.
"What the fuck happened?" I shout.
"I saw…" Chelsea starts to say, but no words are coming out. She puts her hands on her knees as she tries to get the words out.
"She saw someone," Amelia says, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I look over at her, and she puts her hands up. "I didn’t see him."
"Yeah, it’s me," Quinn says, and I turn to look at him holding a phone to his ear. "There is a situation at Chelsea’s." He looks over at me, the look telling me shit is about to go down. "Call your dad."
He puts the phone back in his jeans, and I finally snap out of it and walk over to Chelsea. I squat down in front of her, ignoring the pull of my bandages on my legs. "Hey," I say, and she just looks at me, shaking her head. "Just breathe," I tell her. "Breathe with me. In." I inhale with her. "Exhale." She copies me now. "That’s it, you can do it with me."
"What do you mean she freaked out?" I hear Quinn ask Amelia, and then I look over at them. They both stop talking.
I turn back to look at Chelsea. "Just breathe, baby. I have you," I say softly so just she can hear me. Her breathing starts to come back to normal when the door swings open, and her eyes go big as she turns to look at the door. I get up as Jacob, Ethan, and Beau run into the house.
"Where is my dad?" Quinn asks.
"He’s going to be here in five minutes," Beau says, rushing over and taking Chelsea in his arms. "I’m here," he tells her, and I want to brush her hair away from her face so I can see her eyes. I want her to know I’m here and nothing is going to happen to her.
"What’s going on?" Ethan says, looking around and then sees a trickle of blood run down my leg. I shake my head slowly, telling him not now.
"We might as well wait for Uncle Casey," Amelia says, and she is in Jacob’s arms as he kisses her head.
"I need water," Chelsea says, and she pushes away from her father and slowly walks to the kitchen. I follow her, and Ethan just watches us. She grabs a bottle of water, and her hands shake as she tries to bring it to her mouth.
The front door opens, and Casey comes in, putting his sunglasses on the top of his head.
"Okay, we are all here," I say now. "What happened?"
Everyone looks at Chelsea. "We went to the diner," she says. "We were sitting at the booth, and I just felt eyes on me the whole time," she says, and the blood flowing in my body turns to ice. "I kept looking around the whole time to see if someone was in the diner I didn’t know." Jacob looks over at Casey, who nods his head. "Asher came in, and I got up to order some food to bring back here," she says. Her hands shake just a bit, and she shakes them off.
"You can do this," I say to her softly. "Just focus."
"We walked out of the diner, and I just felt it." She looks at me now. "I saw a man. I don’t even know what he looked like anymore." She closes her eyes. "But he was just staring at me."
"Did you go up to him?" Ethan asks. "Did you talk to him?"
"No." Chelsea shakes her head. "A bus came by, and by the time it left, he wasn't there anymore." She puts her hands on her stomach. "I thought at that point that I had made it up." Her lower lip shakes. "I thought it was all in my head. I ran to the truck, got in, and I kept looking around, but nothing was there. It was just all in my head, I thought. But…" She looks at me. "But then when we were pulling out, I saw him again. His beady eyes were staring straight at me."
"That motherfucker!" I roar out and look over at the men. "We need to find him and end this. Do you hear me?" I walk back to the bedroom and pick up the green bag Ethan tossed me earlier. I ignore the pain in my body. I ignore my whole body going into shutdown. I ignore the pain in my heart piercing so hard you would think I was shot straight in the chest.
"What are you doing?" Chelsea asks, her voice frantic.
"I’m doing what I should have done two days ago," I tell the whole room. "I’m getting out of here."
"And where are you going to go?" Chelsea’s voice comes out angrily.
"Anywhere but here,” I tell her and look at Casey. "You can get me set up somewhere off the grid."
"I can," Casey says to me, looking down before continuing. "But."
"No more fucking buts!” I roar out. "He could have hurt her and then what?" All the men look down at the floor. Just the thought of her being hurt because of me is too much to bear. I can’t do it. I won't do it.
"Before you decide anything," Jacob says, "this could work to our advantage." I put my hands on my head in shock.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Beau finally says. "He got close enough to her that she felt fucking eyes on her." He points at Chelsea. "How much fucking closer does he have to get before we listen to Mayson and get him out of here?"
"We don’t even know if it’s him," Ethan says calmly. "No one knows for sure."
"Who the fuck else could it be?" Quinn asks, his voice going louder.
"Let us check the tapes and decide then," Casey says. "If it is him, we can come up with a plan to bring him out."
"You want us to play sitting possum?" I shake my head now. "So just sit here waiting for him to strike."
"It’s not the dumbest plan," Ethan says. "We have something he doesn’t."
"Yeah, and
what is that?" I ask him, furious now.
"We got eyes on him," Ethan says. "He doesn’t have a game plan."
"He came out in the daytime," I say to him. "He came out into the light and she saw him." I point at Chelsea. "He had to have known she would see him and tell me."
"Exactly," Ethan says. "He knew she would come back and tell you. He knew you would leave here."
"He’s right," Jacob says now. "You will be playing into his hands."
"So what does this mean?" I look around at everyone.
"It means you have no choice but to stay," Quinn says, shaking his head and looking down at his feet with his hands on his head.
"You guys have twenty-four hours," I say with my teeth clenched. "Twenty-four hours to find him. After that, I’m playing this game on my own."
Chapter 18
Chelsea
"You guys have twenty-four hours." I look over at Mayson, his hands and teeth clenched. "Twenty-four hours to find him. After that, I’m playing this game on my own." If I didn’t fear him before and I didn’t know him, I would be scared. I would be very scared.
"I’m going to go back to the station," my uncle Jacob says. "I’m going to get extra eyes on the house tonight."
"I’m going to go and pack her bag," my father says, and I just look at him. Everyone looks over at him. "He needs to stay here." He points at Mayson. "That doesn’t mean she needs to stay here with him."
"He’s right," Mayson says just as I say, "Absolutely not."
All eyes turn to me. "I am not leaving my home," I say softly, and my father starts to shake his head. "I am not leaving my fucking house."
"Chelsea," Mayson says, almost as a warning.
I shake my head hard now. "I am not going to leave my home," I tell him. "I am not leaving here because this is my home. So if this man who was watching me thinks he’s going to just come into my house." I laugh, and if I didn’t know myself, I would say I sound like I’m losing it. And maybe I am losing it. "I don’t know who the man was. I don’t know what he wanted. But I know one thing. I’m not letting him scare me out of my house." I look over at Mayson, hoping he can read between those lines. Because what I really want to say is I’m not leaving you.
"Five minutes ago, you couldn’t even breathe," Quinn says, and I glare at him.
"Well, now I’m fine," I say through clenched teeth. "I’m going to change," I tell the room, "and I think everyone has something to do." I look at Amelia. "Bring the food in."
I turn and walk toward my bedroom, and I’m not surprised that Amelia and Quinn both follow me into my bedroom. "You guys," I say, turning on them and see that Quinn has closed the door.
"This stops now," Quinn says to me. "You can not stay here."
"I, for once, agree with Quinn," Amelia says. "You can let him stay here. But you." She points at me. "You need to pack a bag and come stay with me. The guys can get someone else to come in here."
"I can stay here," Quinn says, and I look at him.
"You are one second away from shooting him yourself.” I point at him.
"I won’t hurt him." He smirks now. "If anything, you can always fix him up."
"That isn’t funny." I close my eyes and sit on the bed.
Amelia comes over and puts her arm around me. "I know you want to help."
"It’s more than that," I tell her and look over at Quinn. "I know you think I’m just some stupid kid with a crush, and I’ll get over it. But…"
"Nothing we can say will make you change your mind?" Quinn asks, and I know I don’t even have to answer him. "Jesus, you two have been a pain in my ass since I was five years old." Amelia and I both laugh. "Why can’t you just be like normal girls who chase cowboys and listen to the men?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Quinn Barnes," I say. "I’m gonna tell your momma what you just said."
"Yeah." He smirks at me. "When you do, make sure you do it with my father there."
"Get out." I point at the door.
"I’ll be outside," he says.
"Peeping Tom!" I tell him, and he turns to walk out of the room.
"I’m going to be okay," I tell Amelia and look at her.
"You didn’t see how freaked out you were today." She blinks away tears. "I just don’t want…"
"He won’t let anything happen to me," I say.
"Oh, I know he won’t." She gets up. "And if he fails?" She puts her hand on the door handle. "Quinn isn’t the only one who will put a bullet in his ass."
I watch her walk out before I change out of my shorts into yoga pants and a tank top. When I walk out of the room, I’m met with silence. Walking to his bedroom, I see him on the bed trying to put a bandage on his leg.
"What happened?" I ask, and he looks up at me. I can tell that he’s angry.
"Nothing," he says, his voice tight. I lean on the door and fold my arms over my chest. "Why are you still here?"
"I’m not sure you want to know the answer," I tell him honestly. He chuckles, and I know it’s sarcastically as he shakes his head. "So I’m not going to answer you." He looks at me, shocked. I turn now, ignoring the pain in my chest as I walk over to the kitchen.
I wash my hands, looking out, and I see a couple of cowboys in the far distance as they put up something. Turning, I grab my baking stuff and get to work. "What the fuck are you doing?"
I look up now as I knead the dough I started. "I’m baking," I say. "It calms me." He watches my hands rolling the dough forward and then bringing it back. "When I was fourteen or fifteen, I used to go shooting when I got upset or pissed off."
"Why did you stop?" he asks, folding his hands in front of him on the island.
"I kind of"—I shrug—"sort of shot Quinn." He laughs, shaking his head. "It was a graze. But he got all ‘you shot me.’ He didn’t even need stitches, and it barely bled." I roll my eyes. "So my parents took away my guns, and every time I got angry, they sent me to my grandmother’s house. And it just stuck. Every single time I would get angry or annoyed, I would go on over, and she would teach me a recipe."
"What are you making?" he asks.
"Chicken and dumplings," I answer him. "Then I was thinking of some chicken potpie."
"Will you be making apple pie?" I look over at him.
"I may be persuaded to," I tell him. "Was Quinn okay with you?"
"He knows about…" he starts to say and taps the counter with his finger.
"He knows what?" I ask, not sure what he means. My mouth runs dry.
"That," he starts. "Apparently, you used to." He looks down, not sure of what to say.
"Follow you around." I laugh and make the dough into a round ball.
"He mentioned you following me to the barn." I look up at him.
"And I was trying to be all sly and shit." Turning now and grabbing a bowl, I place the ball of dough inside to rise.
"I remember," he says to me silently. "That day."
I look over at him, shocked he remembers that day. "What?" I ask.
"It was two years ago." He starts to talk now, and I don’t move from my spot. "I hadn’t seen you in over a year, and then you just showed up."
"I didn’t just show up. Amelia picked me up at school." I wash my hands and then turn to look at him, and just like that day, he makes my heart speed up and my belly flip and flop.
"You got out of the car, and the wind picked up your hair a bit." He leans back in the chair. "You were wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt tied at your stomach."
"I went to hug my grandfather, and I saw you walking away from the party," I tell him. "It took me over ten minutes to finally pry myself to the stable."
He gets up now and comes around the island to stand in front of me. "I was sitting in the barn with my head hanging down, telling myself you were perfectly wrong for me." He takes one of the strands of hair that’s fallen out of my ponytail and wraps it around his finger. "You deserved to have someone who didn’t have a house full of skeletons. You didn’t deserve a broken man."
"I went into that barn." I put my hands on his hips. "Because I wanted to see if it was all in my head," I say, looking down. "I wanted to see if it was just a stupid schoolgirl crush." I swallow. "I wanted to see if you were everything my head remembered." He shakes his head. "I walked in and saw you sitting there, and you looked up at me." My hand goes to the middle of his chest, making sure that this moment affects him as much as it does me.
"You took my breath away." His voice is but a whisper.
I blink away the tears. "You were sitting there, and you were so much more than I remembered," I say. "My heart was going so fast when I saw you look over at me. I tried to act cool, but all I wanted was to walk up to you and kiss you. I wanted to feel what it would have been like to kiss you."
"I looked at you, and I wondered what it would be like to kiss you." He comes closer. "I wondered what it would be like to hold your hand." His hands cup my cheeks. "I wondered all this, and then the truth would come over me. The truth that you were perfect and so fucking wrong for me."
"But what if I’m not?" I ask. "What if I’m not wrong for you?" He shakes his head, and I know if I don’t take this chance with him, I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life. "What if I’m the right one for you?"
"Chelsea," he says, almost as if he’s pleading with me to stop talking.
"Mayson, you are a man with honor." My hand feels his heart beating, matching mine. "You are respectful. You are kind. You are funny." He looks at me with his eyebrows pulled together. "In your own way. You sacrifice yourself without thinking twice about it."
"You can stop now," he says, his breath hitting my face.
"Those," I say, "are the reasons I have fallen in love with you." He gasps. "You don’t have to say it back. I don’t expect you to say it back. If I’ve learned anything in the past couple of weeks, it’s that tomorrow is not guaranteed. There is no time to tell you how much I love you." My hand moves up now from his chest to his face. My thumb rubs underneath his chin. "When you showed up, I was so scared to touch you." I swallow, ready to give him everything. "So scared I wouldn’t be able to save you." One tear escapes now, and I bend to have it drop on the floor. "So scared I would be the one who couldn't save you and you would die before I got a chance to tell you that you, Mayson Carey, you are perfect."
Southern Heart Page 10
