Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 71074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I don’t have time to think about it when the ambulance comes to a stop, and the back door opens. One of the EMTs jumps out and then pulls out the stretcher. "What do we have?" He looks at me, and I just hold her in my arms. "You have to let me at her if I am going to see what is wrong with her."
"Mayson," Beau says my name, and another ambulance gets here. Five other police cars also get here, and the lights just get brighter. People start running toward the house. Casey is on the side with a couple of people as he fills them in and starts pointing.
"I’m not leaving her." I look at the EMT, who just nods at me as I gently put her down on the stretcher. I see that her face is swollen on one side and that the yellow shirt she was wearing today is now orange. "She’s been shot," I say, looking at the wound in her shoulder. My heart breaks as I look down now and see her hands tied together. "Get that off her wrists!" I shout. Beau just stands next to me, and I have to wonder if it’s to keep me calm. To make sure that I don’t stop them from touching her.
They cut the black zip tie off her hands, and she groans. I bend beside her. "I’m here,” I say, the tears pouring out of me. "I’m right here, and I’m not leaving, do you hear me?" I kiss her lips now. "Open your eyes, Chelsea,” I beg. "Please open your eyes." I put my forehead on hers, my eyes making sure her chest goes up and down. "I need to see your eyes." I see her finger move just a twitch. "I’m here, you’re safe."
She groans out again, and I step back to see she is trying to open her eyes. "Mayson," she groggily says my name as she tries to move her head from right to left. The right side of her face is red from when he hit her. I look over at the cabin and think I would have gone back in and finished him.
"I’m here," I say, trying not to touch her. Her eyes now slip open but then close again when it gets too bright for her.
"We have to move," the EMT says, and I move aside as they load her up in the ambulance.
I’m about to step inside the ambulance with her when Quinn’s voice comes out over the radio.
"There is another body in here. She’s barely alive."
Get ready to unravel another secret in the south!
Southern Heat
Epilogue One
Six months Later
Chelsea
"Where have you been?" Mayson says as I walk into the house. I look over at him and smile.
"I was at work,” I say. "Where I was supposed to be."
"But," he says, looking at his watch, "you finished an hour ago."
I look at him as he stands there with his hands on his hips. My beautiful man has not left my side for more than three hours in six months. I walk to him and wrap my arms around his neck. "I said I had errands."
"No, you didn’t," he says, pulling me to him. "I was worried."
"You have a tracker on my phone,” I say. "You have a tracker on my truck. You have a tracker in my purse. You put a tracker in my engagement ring." I hold up the hand that has my engagement ring. I wish I could say he got down on one knee, but he didn’t. After I got to the hospital, I was rushed to surgery for the gunshot wound and for them to fix my wrist. When I finally came to, there was a ring on my finger. "Plus, don’t think I don’t see the car following me."
"I’m not going to apologize for keeping you safe," he says, kissing my lips and looking down.
"I’m fine,” I say. I’ll sometimes wake during the night and find him watching me. Even though the bruises have faded and everyone is healthy, he lives with the nightmare.
"I’m going to need visual proof." He smirks, and I shake my head and laugh at him.
"Can I get some water before?” I say, and he looks at me weird. "What?"
"What are you hiding?" he says, and I just shake my head and avoid his eyes. I open the fridge, hoping he lets it go.
"Do you want to have spaghetti for dinner?" I ask, grabbing the sweet tea and pouring myself a glass.
"Chelsea," he says, and I look at him, putting the glass down. My hand shakes, and he sees it. "Where did you go?"
"I was at work," I say, not lying. "I went for some blood work," I finally admit, pulling up my sleeve and seeing the purple mark now. If I knew there wouldn’t be a mark, I wouldn't have told him.