Southern Heart by Madison, Natasha (best fiction novels .txt) 📕

"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 things."

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