Southern Secrets (Southern #7) - Natasha Madison Page 0,75

of my being. I love you with every breath I take." I ignore the way my body wants to go to him. I ignore the pull of his words. I ignore it all. "You don’t think it killed me every single day waking up next to you having this on my mind."

"Well, obviously not enough to let you tell me the truth." I swallow the pain in my chest, the burning in my stomach starts to grow. The fear of breaking down in front of him, making the back of my neck burn. He doesn’t deserve to see you fall, I tell myself. "I did it again," I say, my voice trembling no matter how much I fight it off. The tears come, and I have no more energy left to stop them. All I know is that I have to get out of here before I crumple, and he doesn’t get to have that. He doesn’t get to see that he broke me. I listened to my heart, and I only have myself to blame. I walk to the doorway and look at him. "Take your shit and get out of my house." I walk right past him toward the front door. Every single step, I feel my body get heavier and heavier. I open the door, and Quinn is right there to catch me before I fall.

"I got you," he says. My eyes just close, and I see black.

"Bring her in the house." I hear Asher’s voice, the anguish in his tone. "I’m leaving." I hear his footsteps get farther and farther away from me. The sound of the truck door closing and leaving makes my eyes flutter open as I feel myself being carried.

"I think you passed out," Quinn says, and all I can do is close my eyes. "Sorry, but I had to call Chelsea," he says, walking into my bedroom, and I shake my head.

"Couch," I say, and he turns to walk back out to the couch. He places me on the couch, and I look at him.

"He’s gone," Quinn says, looking at me and running a hand through his hair, his face white as if he saw a ghost. He walks over to the kitchen and heads straight to where I keep my grandfather’s special whiskey. He unscrews the top and takes a huge gulp, his eyes closing as it goes down his throat. I know that burn hurts. "He’s …" He shakes his head. "He’s destroyed." I’m about to say something, and he holds up his hand. "I’m not on his side," he says right away. "But you didn’t see him."

"I don’t care." I say the three words that are a lie. I’m a liar just like him. I don’t want to think about it. I can’t think about it.

The sound of running and the door opening have me looking to the side to see Chelsea there. "What happened?" she asks, rushing over to me, turning to look at Quinn. "Did you get her a cold rag for her to put on her neck?" He shakes his head. "What the fuck have you been doing?" she says, totally unaware of what just went on. "Why are you drinking?"

"It’s over." I look at her, and her mouth opens and then closes. "It’s a long story."

"It’s a fucked-up story," Quinn says from the kitchen, drinking another shot. "It’s the story that you never expect to hear, and then you hear it, and you look around wondering, did I just hear what he said." He closes his eyes. "It’s like Twilight Zone kind of thing."

Chelsea gets up and looks at him like he has two fucking heads. "Asher is Liam’s son," I say

the words, and her face turns white. Her mouth opens, then closes again. "Exactly."

"Did he know?" she asks, putting her hand to her stomach, neither of us answering her. So she looks at us again. "Did he know when he came here?" Again we just look at each other and Chelsea sits on the couch next to me. "Does Ethan know?" she asks, and I nod my head.

"I need," I say. "I need to pack his stuff." I turn to get off the couch. "He needs his stuff."

"We need to burn his stuff," Chelsea says, and Quinn laughs.

"Again." He shakes his head when Chelsea gasps out. "Too soon."

"I’m fine." I get up and sit back down when the room spins. Chelsea gets up and holds out her hand. "I’m fine. I just got up