Southern Comfort - Natasha Madison Page 0,53

she takes in what I said.

“What do you mean?” she asks, not sure of what I said.

“I’m Casey Barnes Security. CBS,” I say again, and she looks at me.

“But …” she says, her mouth opening and closing. “How?”

“Well, when I was eighteen, I started playing around with the computer, and it turns out, I was really good at coding.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” she says, and I just laugh.

“Not many do,” I say and now take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips. “When I left the rodeo, I was lost,” I say. “All I heard in my head were the words ‘he’s just a hick.’”

“Casey,” she says my name in a whisper, and I just shake my head.

“I know it’s stupid, and I know that you know the whole sticks and stones shit. I get it, but it’s just, those words they cut me. ‘Just a hick.’” I say what I’ve never told anyone before. “I took a step back, and I wanted to be more than that. I wanted to be more than what people thought I would be.”

“You are more than that,” she says. I don’t hear any sympathy in her voice. It’s soft, and it’s genuine, and it’s everything.

“It was a stereotype. I was a cowboy, so I couldn’t be anything else,” I say. “Then one day, I’m playing around with the computer, and I’m creating this whole thing. I was a natural with it, and I couldn’t explain it.” I shake my head. “I broke into the government website in three hours.” I laugh now when she gasps out. “I mean, I didn’t take anything, but I just did it because I could.”

“Oh my God,” she says, and she puts her hand to her mouth.

“Yeah, imagine what my mom felt like when they arrived on my doorstep and asked to see me.” She opens her eyes. “Yeah, well, needless to say, it’s when they brought me in, and I showed them, and then I told them how to stop it. Which made me finally someone who wasn’t just a cowboy.”

“You, Casey Barnes,” she says, shaking her head. “Even if you were a cowboy, that doesn’t mean you are less of a man.”

“I know that,” I say, and she raises her eyebrows at me. “I mean, I know that now.”

“There are so many questions I want to ask,” she says.

“And I’ll answer every single one,” I say. She just smiles at me, and I finally smile at her and lean back in my chair. “Every single one.”

“Where are we staying?” She leans back in her chair and smiles. “Also, I want to go shopping.”

“So you find out I have money, and you want me to take you shopping?” I joke with her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Trust me, I don’t need you to buy me anything,” she says. The flight attendant comes over with a fruit platter and puts it down in the middle of the table.

“We should be landing in about thirty minutes,” she tells us and then walks away.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told.” I lean with my back against the window. “I mean, my parents know, and my COO knows.” She leans over now coming into my seat, her eyes light and her smile bright.

“Thank you for trusting me,” she says, and at the exact time I kiss her lips, someone is breaking into my house.

Chapter Twenty-One

Olivia

His lips touch mine, and his phone goes off like a siren. He grabs his phone and opens it, I can see the screen of the kitchen. But I have to look closely to see the black figure tearing through the house. “What is that?” I ask. The feed goes black, and his phone rings.

“Yeah,” he says, harsh. “Someone is in my fucking house.” He just listens and gets up now, standing there. “I want to send a message.” He waits to listen. “I don’t care how you send it. Send it to his lawyer, send it to the fucking warden in prison.” Then he hisses, “Don’t fuck with someone who can bury you.”

“Casey,” I say, getting up. He looks at me, and for the first time, I’m scared of his look.

“He crossed the line when he came into my house.” He hangs up the phone.

“What?” I ask almost in a whisper.

“Someone broke into the house and trashed your bedroom,” he says. I sit back down because my knees give out.

“What?” I ask, shocked. “But why?”

“I have no idea,” he says, and