Southern Storm (Southern 3)

“Now, now.” When I hear his slimy voice, I rip my arm away from his touch. You would think he would get the hint, but he doesn’t. Instead, he closes the distance between us and puts both hands on my bare arms. “I hope you’re not leaving yet.” Hearing his voice and feeling his breath make me want to vomit. The smell a mixture of cigars and whiskey. “We didn’t have a chance to catch up.” I look at him, and I have to wonder how the fuck I ever found him attractive. Sure, he’s tall, and his hair is always perfectly coiffed, and his blue eyes just pop with his brown hair. But underneath all those preppy good looks is a spineless piece of shit.

“Get the fuck away from me, Liam,” I hiss. Moving away from him, I spin to face him. I look at the man who lied more than anyone I’ve ever known.

“Now, now,” he says, coming down the last step to me. He looks around and then leans his head in closer. “Is that any way to talk to your baby daddy?”

I look around to make sure that no one is around and can hear him. The big white house is filled with people who walk around, but none of them pay any attention to us outside. “Fuck you, Liam,” I hiss. “Where’s your wife?”

He smirks at me. “Don’t worry about that,” he says and brings his hand up to rub my arm, causing me to throw up in my mouth. “Besides, we have an understanding.”

I step back, and my heel almost gets caught in the rocks, but the last thing I will ever be is vulnerable to him. “Do you both understand what a grade A piece of shit you are?” I ask, and he just laughs at me.

“I like you feisty,” he says, giving me the smirk that worked on me eight years ago. “Always did.”

“Get the fuck away from her.” I hear Jacob hiss from behind Liam, and he turns to look at him.

“Hey there,” he says as if they are long-lost friends. “Great seeing you again. I didn’t get a chance to see your son.”

“I dare you,” Jacob says, coming closer to him, “to fuck with me.”

Liam throws his head back and laughs. “Calm down there, Sheriff.” He shakes his head and turns to walk away.

“Are you okay?” Jacob asks, and right then, Casey walks out the front door, his hand in Olivia’s, and he spots us.

“Why did you leave him by himself?” I ask them. “He’s hurting.”

“He’s not going to listen to anyone right now,” Casey says, walking down the steps and looking at me. “You got this?” he asks Jacob, and then he looks at me and nods. As Kallie’s older brother, he’s never really spoken to me, but when shit went down, he was one of the few who didn’t look at me like I was the scum of the earth. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he was not all flowers and shit, but he never looked at me with disdain the way everyone else did.

“You still shouldn’t leave him by himself,” I tell them and then look down. “I’m going to get going. Can you grab Ethan?”

“Yeah,” Kallie says.

I look down and blink away the tears. “I’ll call you guys later,” I say, walking toward my truck with my head down. Something that I’ve done for the past eight years. Opening the door and getting behind the wheel, I look down at my red dress I chose for this occasion. When I got dressed today for the function, I did it hoping Beau would tell me that I was beautiful. When he came over last week and begged me to come, I couldn’t say no to him. There isn’t much I would say no to him for because I loved him. Bottom line, he was the hero in every single romance book I’ve read. He was the prince in every Disney movie. He was everything, but he looked at me like he always did—as a friend. I was his best friend, and he was one of mine.

I mean, let’s face it, I didn’t have many people to choose from. I was the kid from the wrong side of the tracks, or so I was told my whole life. My father could be one of five people, which just made me shake my head.

My mother tried as best as she could. She was a waitress at the local watering hole, and then one day, she applied for a job for the mayor and his wife. She was their cleaning lady, and she became very close with the mayor’s wife, Mary Ellen. Soon, she was doing the cooking and the cleaning, and Mary Ellen got me into the school where Beau and Jacob attended. I started there wearing secondhand boy clothes since my mother could never save enough for clothes, and Mary Ellen always felt sorry for me and gave me the boys’ hand-me-downs. I dressed like a boy until I was fifteen and got my own job and could buy my own stuff.