Southern Comfort - Natasha Madison Page 0,12
My hand starts to shake, and Jacob sees it. “Relax.” He shakes his head, then leans in close. “The feds came and took him.”
“What?” I ask, confused. “Why?”
“Seemed he was working with a certain person in prison,” he says. I don’t know what to say. How can someone who loves someone or at least pretends to love someone want them to be harmed? “They got wind we had him, and it took them an hour to get here.”
I look at him speechless. “So you want to discuss almost killing the doctor?” he asks. I glare at him, and I’m about to tell him to fuck off when I hear Kallie yell. Rushing back in the room, I see Kallie trying to pick up Olivia from the floor.
“What the fuck?” I almost push Kallie away harder than I want to. “Move,” I tell her, crouching down to pick Olivia up and put her back on the bed. “Darlin’,” I whisper when she moans.
The nurse comes rushing in, and I turn to see that Kallie is crying in Jacob’s arm. “What is all the commotion?” the nurse asks.
“She was …” Kallie starts to say, then stops, and I know she’s hiding something. “She was getting up, thinking she was okay to leave, and she fell.”
“She fell?” I ask. Putting my hands on my hips, I look at her, then I look at the nurse. “Did she hit her head again?”
“No,” Olivia mumbles, her eyes open. I don’t know why I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s only because you have the need to take care of her since she lives in your house, I tell myself, but the other part of me laughs. Lies. It’s all lies. “I just got up too fast. I must have been lightheaded because my head started to spin, and I couldn’t catch myself before I fell.” She doesn’t look at me, and if there weren’t so many people in the room, and she didn’t have a concussion, I would hold her face in my hands and force her to look at me.
“How about we get you something to eat?” the nurse says, so I do the only thing I can do. I stand here by her bed.
“My mother brought soup,” I tell the nurse who nods. Kallie walks over to the bag my mother left. She takes out a soup bowl, then pours the soup out of the thermos.
“Just don’t overdo it,” the nurse says. “We’ll check with you in a bit and see how you are feeling.”
“I won’t,” Olivia says softly. The phone in my back pocket vibrates. I take it out to see that it’s Derek.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, looking over at Jacob. “Stay with her until I get back.” He just nods.
“Hello,” I say into the phone. Walking out of the room, I stand with my back against the wall, facing the door. I make sure I have her in my sight through the small window in the door.
“Hey, how is she?” he asks. I look down, putting my hand behind my neck. My neck is starting to get sore from the tension that I now have every single time I walk away from her. The need to stay by her side to make sure she is okay is so strong I don’t know how to fight it. It’s bigger than me. I want to sit with her and hold her hand. I want to tuck her hair behind her ear. I want to whisper to her that everything is going to be okay. I want it all, but I know that she is only here temporarily, and that it’s better for both of us not to go there.
“She has a concussion,” I say. “What did you learn?” Derek and I met when we were paired together for a project two weeks into our computer class. The two of us were unstoppable, and when we aced the class, we continued to work together. If there is stuff out there to be found, Derek will find it. There is nothing that you can hide from him. It’s why the government uses us; it’s why we have what we have. I develop the programs, and he just makes them that much better.
“Phillip “the barber” Conserto.” He whistles. “This guy has a rap sheet that started when he was twelve and was placed into foster care when his mother took off and his father died.” I wait for the bad stuff. Knowing Derek, he