Southern Secrets (Southern #7) - Natasha Madison Page 0,36

the questions, but I know there is a time and place for that, and it’s not that time. I also know that if she gives me her truth, I have to give her mine. "I have to take a shower," I say, looking down at myself. "Are you going to be okay for ten minutes?"

"I’m going to bed," she says, sinking into her bed. "Can you turn off the lights out there?" she asks, and all I can do is nod at her. Even if I wanted to tell her no, the lump in my throat at seeing that she is okay stops me. I didn’t know what I would be walking in on. The last time I saw her, she looked scared.

"Chelsea said I have to wake you up every two hours," I say, and she rolls her eyes. I watch her turn on her side in a fetal position and bring the covers under her chin. "Good night, Amelia," I say softly, turning and walking out of the room.

My whole body on alert, I walk to the front door and lock up. Turning off the lights, I walk to the back door and make sure that it’s locked also. I walk to the bathroom, taking off the dusty clothes and dumping them in the corner. Getting into the shower, I hang my head as the hot water washes over me.

Leaving her in that ambulance and not going with her shifted something inside me, and I knew then and there that whatever this shit was had to stop. I worked side by side with Jacob the whole time. My only focus was finding out what happened to her.

The phone in my back pocket felt heavier and heavier with each message. My ability not to want to kill someone slipped away, each time. Jacob had to send me away from a couple of the guys we were interviewing because if one of them said again that she was smoking hot, I was going to throat punch them.

I get out of the shower and slip on a pair of boxers and shorts. I walk back to her bedroom and see she’s still sleeping. I think about walking to her bed and lying down beside her just so I can make sure she is okay all night long. My heart pushes me to go, but my head, my head moves my feet away from her door, and I walk over to the couch to lie down and set my phone alarm to go off in two hours. I turn on my back and look up at the ceiling, my eyes never closing to sleep when I hear the soft alarm. I get up and walk to the bedroom. Her eyes open slowly when I walk in. "Did you set an alarm?" she asks me softly.

"Yeah," I tell her and see that the sun is coming up. "Go back to sleep."

"Turn off your alarm," she grumbles out, "or I’ll break the phone."

I laugh. "How is your head?"

"It’s not my head that hurts. It’s the pain in my ass in front of me that’s bothering me." She turns in her bed. "Now, let me sleep."

"Call me if you need anything," I say, and I want to just sit and make sure she is okay, but instead, I walk back to the couch, and this time, sleep comes and takes me. The sound of movement makes my eyes fly open, and I see that the sun is streaming into the room. "Hey," I say, getting up seeing her in the kitchen.

"Why are you sleeping on the couch?" She looks over at me, and she looks tired but still so beautiful that she takes my breath away.

"I was scared I wouldn’t hear you," I say, getting up as she walks to the cupboard and gets two mugs out. She wears another pair of shorts and a long-sleeve sweater. "How are you feeling?"

"Annoyed," she says, pouring coffee in the mugs and then putting the pot back. "I got seventeen voice messages from my grandmother." She hands me a cup of coffee. "One text from my grandfather." She goes back to her mug and smells it right before she drinks it. "A text from every single cousin and my mother should be here any minute."

I walk to the fridge, grabbing some milk and putting a splash in my coffee. "Are you hungry?"

"My mother is coming, and I’m assuming from the voice mails from my grandmother, she has cooked