Southern Comfort - Natasha Madison Page 0,79

He was revived on the scene but died on the way to the hospital.” I shake my head. “Fucking coward.”

“He knew the end was coming for him,” Jacob says, and I walk back over to the coffee machine and pour myself a cup. “It was only a matter of time. Does she know?”

I shake my head and take a long gulp of the hot coffee. “No, I haven’t said anything to her.”

“Do you want me to do it?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“No, I’ll do it when I come back,” I say, putting down my coffee.

“Where the hell are you going?” he asks, his eyes almost glaring.

“I have to meet Beau in thirty minutes.” I avoid his eyes this time.

“You really going to leave her?” he asks. I don’t know if he’s asking about now or in general. Either way, I don’t have an answer for him. I have nothing.

“She’s with Kallie. She’ll be fine.” I finish the coffee, ignoring the burning in my stomach. “Let her know I’m going to be back.” I turn to walk out of the room.

“Don’t do this,” he whispers, and I turn around. “She needs.” I stop him before he says the words I don’t want to hear.

“She has everything she needs here. I’ll be back,” I say, walking to the front door and slipping on my Nike’s. I grab my keys and my baseball hat and walk out of the door. My heart and chest are hurting more and more the farther I get from the door. I get into the truck, and I turn off everything. Or at least I try, but nothing, nothing helps this time. I should be good at this; I should be able to do this.

When I turn off my property, the beating in my heart speeds up, and the pain hurts even more. Turning the radio on, I try to bury it deep, and when I park my truck in front of Beau’s stable, my whole body screams to go back.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Beau asks when I open the door and step out. I look over at him and see that he’s wearing his workout clothes and carrying a saddle. “Didn’t you just get back?”

“Yeah.” I ignore the first part of his question and follow him into the barn. Beau and I have become a lot closer in the past few years, especially with our businesses crossing paths.

“If you just got back, why the fuck are you here?” he asks, throwing the saddle on one of the mustangs that he bought from me six months ago.

“We have a meeting,” I say. “Did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget.” He looks over at me. “I assumed we would reschedule since your woman just went through hell.”

I look at him. “She isn’t my woman.” As soon as I say the words, I feel like I just swallowed a handful of nails.

“Wow.” He shakes his head. “You’re really that fucking stupid.” I glare at him.

“You are one to talk.” I put my hands on my hips. “How is Savannah?” I ask him, and it’s his turn to glare at me. “You can dish it, but can you take it?”

“It’s not even the same thing,” he says.

“Isn’t it? You’ve loved her your whole life. The whole town knows it. The only one who doesn’t know it is Savannah because you haven’t told her.” I point at him.

“You told Olivia you love her?” he asks, and I glare. “I mean, you do love her, right? You have to. There is no way you would have her in your house if you didn’t. That is your place, your ‘woman-free space’.” He uses quotations, and I want to throat punch him, but instead, all I can do is stand here and listen to him. “If you let her walk away without telling her how you feel, you are going to regret it for the rest of your life.”

“How would you know?” I say. “You are glued to Savannah’s side, yet you never told her.”

He looks at me. “She has a kid with my best friend.” He looks down, and I know that deep down it cuts him to the core. “Besides, there is no way she would ever feel the same about me. It would just make it awkward for everyone.”

“You never know until you tell her and hear what she has to say,” I say, and he walks toward me now.

“Are you going to take your own advice?” he