Home > Southern Heart(3)

Southern Heart(3)
Author: Natasha Madison

The lights flicker on and off again as I hear a car door. I wonder if the person who put him in this state is coming to finish the job.

Fear creeps into me, making me get up now, and I look around the house, wondering where he keeps the gun, but I don’t have to look far before the door swings open. Ethan stands there soaked to the bone, the gun drawn in his arms, aiming it at the person on the floor. "Chelsea," he says my name as lightning flashes behind him.

"I’m okay," I tell him right away. "The kids are okay."

"What the fuck?" he says, looking at the man on the floor in front of him. I look at his chest, hoping to see movement, and it rises and falls so slowly that if you aren’t focused, you would think he was dead.

"There was a banging on the door," I start to tell him, and the tears pour out of me, and I just let them fall as the fear now leaves my body, knowing that Ethan is here. "And then…" I start to talk, but the man on the floor moans.

"You opened the door to a stranger?" he shouts at me, and I glare at him now.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I hiss at him, and the man holds his side. "How the hell was I supposed to know?"

"Ethan." He calls my brother’s name, and my brother’s face goes white as he bends next to him. He looks the man up and down and then focuses on the man's arms. Picking one up, he washes the dirt off him with his shirt. "Ethan." He repeats his name in almost a whisper. I’ve heard this voice before, I think to myself. I know I have, but with the thunder and the monsoon of rain coming down, I can’t focus.

"It’s Mayson," he says, his voice frantic. My stomach drops, and Emily comes into the house with the phone at her ear. My hand goes to my mouth now as I look down at the beaten man in front of me. He is covered in dirt and blood, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he crawled here on his hands and knees. I think back to the first time I met him.

“Chelsea.” My brother, Ethan, called my name clear across the field and I walked over without thinking twice about it. Only when I got closer did my heart speed up as I looked at the guy standing beside my brother. He was just as tall, maybe even a touch taller. He was definitely bigger than Ethan was. His arms bulged out more, his chest wider. The tattoos on his arms shining orange in the sunlight. “This,” he tells the guy next to him, “is my baby sister.”

“Younger sister,” I corrected him. “This is Carey.” He said his name and then corrected himself, “Sorry, Mayson.”

I smiled at this stranger in front of me, and he smiled obligatory at me. "Nice to meet you.”

The sunglasses hid his brown eyes. My heart sped up as he took my hand in his and it felt like an electric shock ran through me, all the way to my bones. It was also the day I secretly started my crush on him.

"It’s your dad." Emily’s eyes look around the room, seeing the vase on the floor shattered.

"Tell him to get here and bring the men," Ethan says and looks at me. "You have to help him."

I look at him, shocked. "Help him." I turn now and run to the bathroom, grabbing all the towels and tossing them in the sink. I turn on the water, my hands shaking as much as the leaves outside in the storm. Emily runs into the bathroom, her whole body soaked, mud all over her floor as she looks at me, and I let a sob go. I put my hand to my mouth to try to block the noise of the sobs that come. I was so scared that something was going to happen to the kids. I didn’t think of anything else but making sure the kids were okay.

"It’s okay," she says, coming to me and hugging me. The wetness of her body soaks into my chest.

"The kids?" I ask nervously, looking around her as I rub the tears off my face.

"Sleeping," she says as she cups my cheek. "They're safe and don’t even know what’s going on."

"I was so scared," I tell her. "So scared I wouldn’t be able to protect the kids. I’m so sorry, Emily. I should never have opened the door." The guilt of the kids being hurt because of me is so much more than I can say. "I would never have."

"Chelsea," Emily says my name softly. "There is no one else in this world I trust more with my children than you."

I swallow down the other sob that wants to rip through me. "Good," I say, grabbing the towel from the sink and wringing it in my hands. Trying to be strong at this moment, I shake my head and push away the fear I had. “I need you to get me a basin with warm water,” I tell her, “and I need a pair of scissors.” I look around, bending to open the cabinets under the sink. “Do you have a first aid kit?” I ask her, and she nods at me. “Bring it to me.” I squeeze the extra water out of the towels. Grabbing them all in my hands, I walk back into the room.

Ethan is kneeling beside Mayson, and I kneel beside him. “I’m going to clean your face now,” I tell Mayson even though he can’t hear me, and slowly wipe his face with one of the wet towels. The mud is coming off easier than I thought. “You need stitches in your cheek.” The gash on his cheek is now leaking blood, and I apply a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding. “Hold this on his cheek,” I tell Ethan, and he puts his hand on the towel. I ignore the pain in my chest as I wipe away the dirt from his swollen eye. One towel isn’t enough to clean just his face. Emily comes in with the bucket of warm water and places it beside me, then she hands me the first aid kit. I open it and grab the gauze, pushing it on his gunshot wound. “I need more towels,” I tell her, and she gets up.

Emily rushes out of the room and grabs another one as Ethan just looks at me in shock. "He needs stitches on his cheek and his forehead." I look down at the shirt and look up at Ethan, who nods his head at me. “He’s been shot." I look at Ethan, and my eyes go to the wound. He picks up one of Mayson’s hands, and I see the raw and bloody marks around his wrists. My eyes find the ink on his arm I’ve spent so much time studying from afar.

Ethan lifts Mayson’s shirt, and I see the bullet wound as the squishing sound of the shirt being torn away from the wound is heard. My eyes focus on the wound. "Chelsea," Ethan says my name, and I snap into action.

"I need my bag." I look up at Emily, who has tears rolling down her face as she watches Mayson fight for his life. She turns and runs out into the rainstorm. I grab his wrist in my hand and feel for a pulse. "It’s steady but…"

I look up toward the open door when headlights shine into the house. The crunching of rocks sounds under tires as someone parks their truck. Two doors open and close, then I hear running but look down when I hear moaning again. I see his finger twitch.

"What the fuck happened?" I hear from beside me and look up to see my cousin Quinn walking in with his father and our uncle Casey, and both of them are drenched. Quinn carries my black medical bag while Casey has his arm around Emily. The bag was a gift from my grandparents when I graduated and has a gold monogram of my name stitched on the side.

"I have no idea," I start to say. "He came here, banging on the door." I open my bag and look over at Ethan. "What is the ETA on the ambulance?" Ethan ignores my eyes and turns to look at Casey.

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