Southern Comfort - Natasha Madison Page 0,25

was found hanging in his cell this morning,” I say. My father just looks at me, but my mother takes a step forward to go to my house. “Not now, Mom.”

“But …” she says. “Olivia.”

“She’s with Kallie,” I say, looking at my father. “She was going to leave, thinking that the threat was over.” I put my hands in the back pockets of my jeans, looking up at the pink sky. “I have to head back.”

“Makes sure she eats,” my mother says. My father puts his arm around her, and I turn and make my way back to my house. When I walk in, I spot Jacob on the phone, and he looks up at me. I walk over to the counter, screwing the cap back on the whiskey, then put it back in its place.

Jacob hangs up the phone. “That was the FBI,” he says. I glance toward the bedroom and knowing that I can’t hold her is killing me. Knowing that she needs something and I can’t give it to her makes me feel hopeless. “They are calling foul play.”

“No shit.” I shake my head. “What else did they tell you that we already know?”

“The guard who was on duty that night called in sick, and this was his replacement.” Now I look over at him. “Yeah.”

“I’ll tell Derek,” I say, taking out my phone and sending Derek a text.

Me: Guard was a replacement.

When I put the phone down, Jacob asks, “You ever going to tell me what it is you do?”

I want to laugh and shake my head, but then I spot Kallie. She’s wearing my shorts and a shirt. “What happened?” She shakes her head. Tears stream down her face, and she looks so helpless. “I got in the tub to hold her because she was shaking so bad.” My hands clench into fists. “I put her in your bed. She was so out of it that she didn’t even realize it.”

“I got it,” I say. She looks at Jacob, who walks to her and envelops her in his arms.

“If you need us, all you have to do is call,” Jacob says and carries Kallie out as she cries in his arms. I walk to my bedroom and find her lying on her side in the middle of my bed. I walk quietly over to her, trying not to wake her. I want to lean down and kiss her head, but I don’t. Instead, I walk into the bathroom, and I see water everywhere. After I put towels down, I start the shower. For the second day in a row, I take a fast shower, just making sure I wash off the dirt.

I keep the door open to listen for her, and when I’m slipping on my shorts, the sound of her screaming makes me rush back into my room. Standing in the middle of the room, she’s shaking like a leaf while tears streak down her face and her chest heaves as she gasps for air. Her eyes are wide, and the fear in them breaks me. I grab her around her waist and pick her up, carrying her back to my bed.

“Darlin’,” I whisper when she buries her face in my neck, and I feel her tears seeping into my skin. “It’s okay. I’m here.” I kiss the top of her head, and she clings to me tighter, but I lay her back down in my bed. Grabbing the water bottle on the nightstand, I take the cap off for her and hand it to her. “You need to take a sip of water.”

Her hands come up, but she’s still shaking so badly that she can’t even hold the bottle. I bring the bottle to her lips, and she takes a little sip, then looks at me. “I’m …” she starts to say. “I have.” When she looks down, I see that the fear is going away, but something else is creeping in. “It was just a nightmare.”

I push her hair away from her tear-streaked face, and her breathing slowly returns to normal. “There you go,” I whisper. “Just breathe.”

“They took me,” she says softly, and my blood starts to boil. “When they arrested him, I was there. Wrong place at the wrong time.” I watch her look down, and she finishes the story. “I was returning his stuff. I should have had it couriered over, but I wanted to have one last look at him and maybe see what I thought was there.”

She