Southern Comfort (Southern 2)

“Oh my God,” she says, and she puts her hand to her mouth.

“Yeah, imagine what my mom felt like when they arrived on my doorstep and asked to see me.” She opens her eyes. “Yeah, well, needless to say, it’s when they brought me in, and I showed them, and then I told them how to stop it. Which made me finally someone who wasn’t just a cowboy.”

“You, Casey Barnes,” she says, shaking her head. “Even if you were a cowboy, that doesn’t mean you are less of a man.”

“I know that,” I say, and she raises her eyebrows at me. “I mean, I know that now.”

“There are so many questions I want to ask,” she says.

“And I’ll answer every single one,” I say. She just smiles at me, and I finally smile at her and lean back in my chair. “Every single one.”

“Where are we staying?” She leans back in her chair and smiles. “Also, I want to go shopping.”

“So you find out I have money, and you want me to take you shopping?” I joke with her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Trust me, I don’t need you to buy me anything,” she says. The flight attendant comes over with a fruit platter and puts it down in the middle of the table.

“We should be landing in about thirty minutes,” she tells us and then walks away.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told.” I lean with my back against the window. “I mean, my parents know, and my COO knows.” She leans over now coming into my seat, her eyes light and her smile bright.

“Thank you for trusting me,” she says, and at the exact time I kiss her lips, someone is breaking into my house.

Chapter Twenty-One

Olivia

His lips touch mine, and his phone goes off like a siren. He grabs his phone and opens it, I can see the screen of the kitchen. But I have to look closely to see the black figure tearing through the house. “What is that?” I ask. The feed goes black, and his phone rings.

“Yeah,” he says, harsh. “Someone is in my fucking house.” He just listens and gets up now, standing there. “I want to send a message.” He waits to listen. “I don’t care how you send it. Send it to his lawyer, send it to the fucking warden in prison.” Then he hisses, “Don’t fuck with someone who can bury you.”

“Casey,” I say, getting up. He looks at me, and for the first time, I’m scared of his look.

“He crossed the line when he came into my house.” He hangs up the phone.

“What?” I ask almost in a whisper.

“Someone broke into the house and trashed your bedroom,” he says. I sit back down because my knees give out.

“What?” I ask, shocked. “But why?”

“I have no idea,” he says, and his phone dings again. He sits down and pulls out his laptop from his bag he carried on. He turns on the computer, and I see the feed from the house. I watch in horror as the masked guy breaks into the house and goes straight for my bedroom.

He tears the drawers out in record time, then flips the mattress. When he doesn’t see anything, he runs into the living room, tossing shit over, and then he runs into the dining room that has all my stuff on it since I started to work in there. He makes the papers fly everywhere. I look over at Casey. “What the hell do they want from me?”

“I have no idea,” he says as the wheels touch down. My hands shake when I start to get up, and he puts away his computer. He holds out his hand, and when I take it, we walk down the steps out into the sunshine.

“There he is.” I hear a man and look up as he walks over to us. He’s wearing a blue suit and has black hair with a salt and pepper beard. He smiles big, but I can’t see his eyes since they are hidden behind sunglasses. “Holy shit,” the man says when he looks at me. “Is that?”

He comes to me now, whipping off his sunglasses, and I see he has brown eyes. “It really is.”

“What are you doing?” Casey says, pushing him away from me. “Derek.” He calls him. “Get away from her.”

“That’s …” he says, pointing at me. “Do you know who this is?” He looks at him and then back at me, and I put my head back, and I laugh.

“Hi,” I say to him, putting out my hand. “I’m Olivia.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” he says, and then he slaps Casey’s arm. “You have been holding out on me.”

I just look at Casey, who is missing this whole thing, so I lean into him and whisper in his ear. “I used to be a Victoria’s Secret Angel,” I whisper, and now it’s his turn to be shocked. “Also Sports Illustrated. A couple other ones also.”