“You don’t know me,” Olivia says. “I’m Olivia.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“Oh, I don’t like you,” she says, and I throw my hands up. “You aren’t a nice person.” Kallie sits beside her and laughs.
“They live together,” Casey then says.
“So if you live together, chances are people know your name,” I inform her. Kallie finally looks at me, and I see now it’s starting to click. “And if they know who you are, then they will know everything about you.”
I look at Billy and Casey. “If they know her name, they know where she grew up.”
“Fuck,” Casey says, “he’s right.”
“If they know where she is, they know where to find her.” I shake my head. “I’m going to get eyes on the ground.”
“She’s safe if she’s here,” Casey says. “I have the whole farm wired.”
“I’m going to get the boys to patrol the area more,” I say. “The good news is nothing happens in this town without someone seeing.”
“At least that works in our favor,” Charlotte says.
“I’m going to set up a couple of things,” I say. “I’ll call you later.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Casey says, and I nod, turning and walking out of the door. I’m almost to my truck when I hear the front door open and close. I don’t know why I think it’s Kallie, but I also don’t know why I’m disappointed when I turn around and see Casey walking toward me.
“What now?” I say.
“This going to be a problem for you?” he asks, and I wait for him to say something else. “You are too close.”
“I stopped caring when she cut me from her life,” I say. Opening the driver’s door to my truck, I get in, starting it, and then look at him. “I have a job to do, and if I have to protect her, I will. Not because I care, but because it’s my job.”
“Good to know,” he says and turns back and walks into the house. I pull out and feel eyes on my truck, but when I turn back, there is no one there.
Chapter Ten
Kallie
The door closes, and I finally get up and go upstairs. My father calls my name, but I ignore him and slam my door. I don’t want to do it, but I go to the window anyway, and I see him standing out there talking to Casey. I put my hand on my stomach and watch him get in the truck and leave. It’s the same look he had eight years ago when he followed me home, and Casey sent him away.
But he didn’t leave like he is now. No, instead he parked at the entrance of the farm and waited.
“You have to talk to him,” my mother said when she walked into the room. I was standing there in the dress I had picked out for prom. A dress I had taken extra care in picking out because I wanted Jacob to be blown away.
“Mom, I can’t,” I said and turned to look at her, my heart broken in my chest. The tears poured out of me even though I wanted them to stop. I kicked off my boots and slid into my bed. He’d snuck into my room last night and held me all night long, so his smell was everywhere. I laid in the bed and pulled the covers over me, letting myself fall into the darkness with his smell all around me.
When I opened my eyes, I saw the sun coming in, but I didn’t move. I only got up to go to the bathroom. I slipped out of my dress, tossing it into the trash bin in my room, then slipped into my pjs and let the darkness take me again over and over again. In my dreams, he told me it was going to be okay. In my dreams, I cried out from the pain I felt. In my dreams, I lost him over and over again. I’d wake with my pillow soaked with the tears I cried.
I heard whispers from the hallway, knowing it was my parents. I heard shouting, but my body didn’t allow me to get up.
I felt the bed dip, and my heart sped up, thinking it was him. I opened my eyes, and it was my mother with her own tears running down her face. “You need to eat something.”
“I can’t,” I whispered. “He’s having a baby, Momma,” I sobbed, the tears coming again. “He’s having a baby.”
“I know, pretty girl.” She pushed back my hair.
“I can’t stay here,” I said between sobs. “I can’t watch him have a family without me.”
She only nodded and then got up and walked out of the room. When she came back, it was with a suitcase. I watched as she packed my stuff, and we made a plan to sneak out. “You have to hide in the back under a blanket.”
“Why?” I asked her.
“He hasn’t left the entrance in two days,” my mother whispered. “I’ll come to you in two days. Casey will stay with you until then.”
I snuck out of my house in the middle of the night like a thief in the night. I cried the whole way as I prayed he’d follow us, but when we parked and Casey opened the door, I saw it was just us.
The knock on the door makes me look back, and I come back to the here and now. “Yeah,” I say. The door opens, and it’s my mother.
“You have to come down and eat something please.” She begs me just as she did eight years ago. “We have to talk things out.”
“I will,” I say, and she walks to me and hugs me.
“Nothing is going to touch you here,” she says, and I breathe in her smell.
“Kallie!” Casey shouts my name up the stairs. “Get your ass back down here.”
“Well, then,” my mother says, trying not to laugh, and I shake my head.
“I should have finished the whole bottle of whiskey,” I mumble. When we walk back down, I see that Olivia is sitting on the couch with her feet tucked under her, and she is holding a teacup.
“Your father just handed me tea with whiskey,” she says, and she takes a small sip. “I could get used to this Southern thing.”
“Family meeting,” my father says, and I just look at him. “Kitchen.”
Olivia gets up. Walking to the kitchen, I look back and see that Casey has his hand on her shoulder, and he walks to the kitchen with her.
I sit on one of the chairs, and Casey sits next to Olivia. “We need to tell the boys what we are dealing with in case they see anything,” my father starts to say, and Casey nods his head.
“Already on it,” he starts. “I think Olivia should stay with me.”
“What?” Olivia whispers, and I groan.
“Just hear me out, darlin’,” he says. “Separating you two is the smart thing to do. If they want to get to you.”
“He’s right,” Olivia says. “It’s my fault that this is coming to your parents’ home. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you and your parents.”
“Olivia, I knew the risks when I packed my bag and brought you here. This is not your fault,” I say.
“I mean, in some ways it is. I should have just never come here,” Olivia says softly and looks at my parents. “I’m so sorry.”
“This isn’t your fault,” my mother says, and my father smiles at her.
“Family takes care of family,” my father says, and I lean over the table and put my hand on hers.