Southern Heart

by Madison, Natasha

  Chapter 32

  Chelsea

  The sound of the truck door opens, and I’m pulled out now. My eyes open halfway as he carries me from my grandmother’s truck to a beat-up blue truck parked in a wooded area. "Let’s see how long it takes for them to find the truck," he says as he opens the door to the beat-up truck. The hinges creak loudly in the silent dark forest. He tosses me on the long bench, my shoulder crying out in pain.

  The driver’s door opens now, making the same creaking noise as the other door did. "Let’s get the fuck out of here." He starts the truck, and it rolls over. I close my eyes and pray that it doesn’t start. But after three times, it finally starts up, and I close my eyes as he drives away from the truck. Every single minute, I’m getting farther and farther away from Mayson.

  My body jumps every time he goes over a bump, and I float away at some point that I don’t even notice when the truck stops. The creaking of the doors as they open wakes me, but no matter what I do, I can’t open my eyes. I feel my legs being pulled, and then I feel like I’m floating on air. "Mayson!” I scream out in my head, but there are no words that come out. “Mayson,” I say again, but this time, the only thing that comes out is a grumble.

  I feel myself hanging, and when I slowly open my eyes, I’m hanging off his shoulder. The pain in my shoulder hits me right away, and I groan again. My eyes close now again, and I fight to keep them open. The sound of twigs snapping under his feet as he walks. My vision is blurry when I open my eyes again, and all I can see is the darkness of the forest. I try to spot anything that would tell me where I am.

  The sound of creaking makes me open my eyes again as we walk into a wooden cabin. I look around, spotting a lone cast-iron bed in the corner. The mattress is full of stains and has no covers. He tosses me on the floor like I am a rag doll, and even though I don’t want him to know I’m in pain, I can’t stop the groan that escapes me. "Shut up," he hisses at me as I lie on my side, looking at him. My entire body is crying out in pain. I close my eyes, trying not to focus on the pain. Fight it back, I tell myself as I lie still, not moving.

  He walks over to the table and comes back with something black in his hand. He grabs my hands together, and I cry out now in pain from my broken wrist. "Shut the fuck up," he says roughly as he zip-ties my hands together. The pain just soars through me. "Why couldn’t you just shut the fuck up?" he asks, and I just look at him as he squats down in front of me. "Get up," he says, grabbing me by my hair and making me sit up, hitting my head on the wood. I don’t know anything else after that because the darkness takes over. I’m standing in the middle of a forest now, and I’m running one way, and just like that, I’m taken back to where I started. I hear Mayson yelling for me and turn to go toward the sound of his voice, but I can’t find him.

  "Do I have your attention now?" I hear the voice in my head, and my eyes slowly open. Everything is coming back to me now. The drive to my house, the plate breaking, Mayson's father getting me. Being shot in my shoulder. I’m sitting in the dark, and the pain is kicking in. I open my eyes, but my head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds as I fall to the right and to the left. It takes everything in me to get my eyes to stay open. I fight away the darkness, knowing I have to survive this. "Now is that any way to talk to your father?"

  I want to yell out and tell him not to give him anything. I want to tell him that I love him. I want to tell him not to blame himself. I want to tell him all of these things, but nothing comes out. "You want her?" he sneers at him. "Then you better fucking find her before it’s too late, you son of a bitch."

  He throws the phone on the counter and then looks over at me. "My boy likes you." He goes to sit in the only chair in the room. The cabin is as big as my bedroom. A counter against one wall with a sink that looks like it hasn’t been used in years. A stove and fridge next to each other that looks like it’s from the seventies. "He has gotten his panties all in a twist about you."

  He runs his hands through his hair. "You would think he learned something from me. A woman is nothing but a warm body and a punching bag." He laughs.

  I lick my lips, now tasting the metallic taste, knowing it’s blood. "He’s a better man than you will ever be," I croak out.

  He laughs even harder now. "He’s got his head up his ass if he thinks that there is something better in the world. There are no fucking rainbows. There is nothing for him, you want to know why?" I lean my head back on the wooden wall. "Because he is nothing."

  I snicker now. "He is everything," I say. "He’s going to find me," I say the words, and I pray it’s the truth.

  "I really fucking hope he does," he says. "In fact, I’m betting on it." I close my eyes, trying to talk myself out of the pain. "Thought he could hide from me for all these years." I don’t say anything to him. "Ran away to the Army." He shakes his head. "Like a bitch hiding." I close my eyes now, trying to gather my strength. "Found him hiding in the woods." He laughs, getting up and walking over to a bottle on the counter. "Hiding with his tail between his legs." He swigs from the bottle and then hisses. "Boy did he squeal like a little fucking pig instead of taking it like a man."

  I laugh now and open my eyes, shocking him. "How would you know what a man does?” I know that I shouldn’t provoke him. "He is more of a man than you are." He gets up and comes over and backhands me before I even know what is going on. The blood now pours out from my lip, and I hear Mayson’s voice in my head telling me to shut up.

  "If he was a man, you would know your place," he says, trailing his finger from my cheek right down my neck and then over my breast. I close my eyes now, hoping he stops. "Make you stay in line."

  He gets up now, going back over to the bottle and then sitting down. "I thought he was going to follow in my steps." My stomach goes up and down as if it’s a wave in the ocean. "Made sure he watched as I took care of his mother. Kept her in her place. I kept a roof over his fucking head, and what did he do?" he hisses out. "Leaves me for dead." Takes another drink. "Took me three days to get up," he says. "Broke my fucking leg." He shakes his head now. "Left me for fucking dead," he repeats. "His own father. The one who gave him everything he has. Took in his mother when she showed up pregnant and all. Blaming me like it was my fault. Made sure the doctor took care of her for the next time. There was no way I was going to be stuck with another kid. Not me," he says, my heart breaking for the woman who suffered under his hand. "One bastard was enough."

  He comes over to me now. "I’m ready," he says as his hand comes out and pushes my hair to the side. "I don’t know how long I have with you." His fingers trail from my cheek to my neck, and his hand goes to the heart pendant that Mayson gave me. "Should I fuck you with the heart on?" He laughs and picks it up in his hand. "What the fuck is this?" he says and rips the chain off my neck. I watch him as he gets up and plays with the heart in his hand. "What the fuck?" he hisses, looking at me. "You fucking bitch." He snarls at me and comes over, and his hand comes out to strike me. It hits so hard that my head smashes back, and I slowly fade away, the darkness coming to get me.

  The sound of crashing is all over me, and I want to scream, but the only thing I can do is let the darkness take me away.

  Chapter 33

  Mayson

  Ethan and I move through the dark forest, side by side. Both of us geared up and ready for whatever is going to happen. The helmet on my head has the night vision goggles as we spot the deserted wooden cabin.

  We sit with our backs to the tree right next to the cabin, waiting for the word to go in.

  It’s been the longest forty minutes of my life, standing in the middle of the forest with the abandoned truck and the phone ringing in my hand.

  "Do I have your attention now?” I heard the voice, and everything in my body turned cold. I look over at Casey, who typed something on his phone.

  "If you touch one hair on her head," I said with my teeth clenched so tight together I thought my jaw would break. "I am going to skin you alive."

  He laughed
in my ear, and all I did was clutch the phone in my hand harder. "Now is that any way to talk to your father?"

  "Fuck you." The two words were the only words I could say. "You don’t want her. You want me. So let her go."

  "You want her." He baited me. "Then you better fucking find her before it’s too late, you son of a bitch."

  I took my phone and threw it against the tree. "We couldn’t get a trace," Casey said, and I looked at him.

  "The locket," I said the two words. "She’s wearing the locket."

  "Let’s go." Casey turned and ran to his truck. Jacob drove as Casey got on his phone and made things happen. We were back at the shooting barn in a matter of minutes, and Quinn was the first one out of the truck as he ran toward the room.

  We walked in, and he was already taking out everything we needed. "Mayson and I will go in," Ethan said, and to be honest, I zoned everything out as I got ready for the war that was going to happen.

  "Okay, we got eyes on you two," Casey says into our ear. "Quinn and Jacob are right behind you."

  "We are moving in," I say in the mouthpiece and then look over at Ethan. He motions to me, and we move toward the cabin. Our guns are both drawn and ready to shoot, I hear my father’s voice now. "What the fuck is this?" we hear him shout. "What the fuck?” he hisses, and I look at Ethan. "You fucking bitch," he says, and when I hear him hit her, all bets are off.

  "He found the tracker," I hear screamed in my earpiece. "Tracker has been found."

  I get up now and kick in the door, wood flying everywhere. I make a quick sweep of the room, and my eyes fall to her as she slumps down to the floor. I feel something come over me as I charge him.

  I run at him and knock him on his ass, my shoulder hitting his stomach. "You fucking bastard," I say between clenched teeth, and I sit on top of him now, my fist hitting him over and over again. "You will never," I say when my fist connects with his jaw, and I feel bones cracking, "touch her again."

  I hear someone yelling my name and then feel someone grab one wrist and someone else grab the other and look over to see Ethan and Quinn. "He isn’t worth it. You need to go to Chelsea."

  I look over and see Chelsea slumped on the floor. I get up now and walk over to her, and my heart is in my throat as I get close to her and reach out to touch her. I move her hair away from her face and see the blood now around her mouth. A sob rips through me as I lean down and pick her up. "Baby," I say to her as she groans in my arms. "I got you."

  I turn now and walk right past my father, Ethan and Quinn now standing up watching me. "Gun!” I hear someone yell, and I turn my head to the side and see that my father is holding up his hand with a gun in it.

  A shot is fired, and I cover Chelsea with my body, rushing out of the house. "Shots fired." I hear Quinn in my ear as blue and red lights shine in the darkness, coming closer and closer. The lights are now filling the dark forest.

  Casey and Beau both run over to us as the siren of an ambulance is right behind them. "Is she…?" Beau asks, and I nod my head.

  "We have a casualty," Ethan says now in the earpiece. "Jacob took out Mayson’s father."

  I don’t have time to think about it when the ambulance comes to a stop, and the back door opens. One of the EMTs jumps out and then pulls out the stretcher. "What do we have?" He looks at me, and I just hold her in my arms. "You have to let me at her if I am going to see what is wrong with her."

  "Mayson," Beau says my name, and another ambulance gets here. Five other police cars also get here, and the lights just get brighter. People start running toward the house. Casey is on the side with a couple of people as he fills them in and starts pointing.

  "I’m not leaving her." I look at the EMT, who just nods at me as I gently put her down on the stretcher. I see that her face is swollen on one side and that the yellow shirt she was wearing today is now orange. "She’s been shot," I say, looking at the wound in her shoulder. My heart breaks as I look down now and see her hands tied together. "Get that off her wrists!" I shout. Beau just stands next to me, and I have to wonder if it’s to keep me calm. To make sure that I don’t stop them from touching her.

  They cut the black zip tie off her hands, and she groans. I bend beside her. "I’m here,” I say, the tears pouring out of me. "I’m right here, and I’m not leaving, do you hear me?" I kiss her lips now. "Open your eyes, Chelsea,” I beg. "Please open your eyes." I put my forehead on hers, my eyes making sure her chest goes up and down. "I need to see your eyes." I see her finger move just a twitch. "I’m here, you’re safe."

  She groans out again, and I step back to see she is trying to open her eyes. "Mayson," she groggily says my name as she tries to move her head from right to left. The right side of her face is red from when he hit her. I look over at the cabin and think I would have gone back in and finished him.

  "I’m here," I say, trying not to touch her. Her eyes now slip open but then close again when it gets too bright for her.

  "We have to move," the EMT says, and I move aside as they load her up in the ambulance.

  I’m about to step inside the ambulance with her when Quinn’s voice comes out over the radio.

  "There is another body in here. She’s barely alive."

  Get ready to unravel another secret in the south!

  Southern Heat

  Epilogue One

  Six months Later

  Chelsea

  "Where have you been?" Mayson says as I walk into the house. I look over at him and smile.

  "I was at work,” I say. "Where I was supposed to be."

  "But," he says, looking at his watch, "you finished an hour ago."

  I look at him as he stands there with his hands on his hips. My beautiful man has not left my side for more than three hours in six months. I walk to him and wrap my arms around his neck. "I said I had errands."

  "No, you didn’t," he says, pulling me to him. "I was worried."

  "You have a tracker on my phone,” I say. "You have a tracker on my truck. You have a tracker in my purse. You put a tracker in my engagement ring." I hold up the hand that has my engagement ring. I wish I could say he got down on one knee, but he didn’t. After I got to the hospital, I was rushed to surgery for the gunshot wound and for them to fix my wrist. When I finally came to, there was a ring on my finger. "Plus, don’t think I don’t see the car following me."

  "I’m not going to apologize for keeping you safe," he says, kissing my lips and looking down.

  "I’m fine,” I say. I’ll sometimes wake during the night and find him watching me. Even though the bruises have faded and everyone is healthy, he lives with the nightmare.

  "I’m going to need visual proof." He smirks, and I shake my head and laugh at him.

  "Can I get some water before?” I say, and he looks at me weird. "What?"

  "What are you hiding?" he says, and I just shake my head and avoid his eyes. I open the fridge, hoping he lets it go.

  "Do you want to have spaghetti for dinner?" I ask, grabbing the sweet tea and pouring myself a glass.

  "Chelsea," he says, and I look at him, putting the glass down. My hand shakes, and he sees it. "Where did you go?"

  "I was at work," I say, not lying. "I went for some blood work," I finally admit, pulling up my sleeve and seeing the purple mark now. If I knew there wouldn’t be a mark, I wouldn't have told him.

  "Why?" His voice sounds worried.

  "It’s nothing," I say as my palms get sweaty now and my bottom lip starts to tremble. "It’s just…" I look at him, hoping this doesn’t push him over the edge. "I’m late." He just looks at me, confused. "Like, my period is late."

  "How long have you known?" he asks, not moving from his side of the island.

  I look down, trying to calm myself. "Two weeks,” I say the truth.

  His eyes go big as his mouth opens and closes. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

  I take a deep breath and walk around the island and stand in front of him. "I was afraid."

  "What?" he cuts me off wit
h a whisper. "You were afraid of me?" The horror is in his voice as he looks at me with tears in his eyes.

  "Never." I shake my head. "I was…" I wring my hands. "I didn’t know how. We never spoke about kids."

  "Are you?" he asks, and I smile as big as I did when they told me the news, putting my hands to my stomach. He comes to me now as the tears I tried to keep inside roll down my cheeks. He puts his hand on my stomach. "A piece of you," he says now in almost a whisper, "and a piece of me."

  "I know that it’s sudden,” I say, "and nothing like we were expecting."

  "I love you," he says, his eyes still on my stomach as his hand rubs side to side. "I promise our child will never doubt the love I feel for them and for you. Our child will know what kindness and respect is. Our child is never going to see the things I saw growing up. I promise you that."

  I put my hand to his cheek. "Our child is the luckiest child in the world." He looks up at me now. "Because he is going to have you as a father."

  "My heart," he says, getting on his knees now in front of me. "You have my heart." He looks up at me. "For the rest of my life until my last dying breath, you have my heart."

  Epilogue Two

  Mayson

  Five years later

  "Why are you bringing her flowers again?" my four-year-old son, Tucker, asks me as we walk back to the house from the barn. It was flowers I picked along the way today as we rode our horses.

  "Because I love her,” I say, and he slips his hand in mine. I didn’t know what love was when I met Chelsea, and then when I held my child in my arms, there was an unconditional love I felt for both of them that I couldn’t even put into words. He was swaddled in a blue blanket with his eyes looking into my soul. His life was a blank canvas, and I promised to make sure it was filled with all the colors in the rainbow.

  "Is that why you are always kissing her?" he asks, and I look down, seeing the little cowboy hat on him.