Page 18 of Unhinged

Knox laughed. “Just wear it once or twice, that’s all I ask. You can go back to your regular suits or TDUs or whatever the rest of the time.”

“Am I the only one who gets this kind of preferential treatment, or will the other guys have the same pleasure?”

Knox shrugged and smiled. “I prefer to think of it as hazing.”

Luke shook his head with a resigned sigh and slung the offensive article over his shoulder as he strode toward the door. “Ass.”

Knox grinned. “Takes one to know one.”

With a shake of his head, Luke headed outside and climbed into his truck. He drummed his thumbs on the wheel as he drove home, his mind turning once more to Dr. Whitmore. He couldn’t begin to understand why her reticence bothered him so much. There was just something deep in those gray eyes that pulled at him, telling him there was far more to her than met the eye.

He sighed. Or maybe she really was as cold as she seemed. Either way, he’d just have to put her out of his mind and treat her like the job she was. Four weeks and he’d be free of the Ice Queen.

CHAPTER

NINE

Hannah felt worry and something else prickling at the back of her neck as she glanced at the clock in the corner of her computer screen. It was now almost two o’clock, and Rachel hadn’t shown up, hadn’t even called to cancel or reschedule. She picked up the phone and dialed the number again.

It was her third attempt that day, and it rolled over to voicemail unanswered, just like each previous call. It wasn’t like Rachel to just not show up. Any time she’d been sick or unable to make it, she’d called to let Hannah know.

They had developed a strong bond over the last several months, and Hannah sometimes saw a bit of herself in the young woman. Rachel had been subjected to sexual abuse at the hands of her stepfather for years before finally gaining the courage to press charges against him and put the man behind bars. She had struggled with depression off and on and had started therapy almost three years ago after her attorney suggested it.

After the incident in high school, Hannah had developed serious trust issues, wondering if she’d ever feel normal again. She thanked God every day that Tommy hadn’t raped her that night, and she couldn’t begin to imagine what Rachel had endured for all those years. When she stumbled into a psychology course as an elective her freshman year, she had immediately fallen in love. It had helped her to understand some of her deep-rooted fears, and she wanted to help others like Rachel.

Hannah knew she wasn’t perfect, but she had come a long way in the last ten years. While she had dated in college, she never quite found anyone who made her feel… more. Both of her boyfriends had been extremely staid, but she hadn’t been able to open up to either of them. Without a foundation of trust, the relationships had quickly fizzled out.

After college, she had been too busy first with clinicals, then opening her practice. With everything going on in her life, dating had fallen by the wayside. Sometimes she felt like the last single virgin in Florida. Most of her friends were married, and many had already started families or had babies on the way. She didn’t want to settle, but she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for more, either.

The phone vibrated in her hand, jolting her from her thoughts, and relief washed over her as she glanced at the screen.

“Rachel, thank goodness.”

A shaky breath exhaled on the other end. “Dr. Whitmore?”

Hannah tensed. The voice was most decidedly not Rachel’s. “This is she.”

The woman faltered. “I… I’m sorry it took so long to return your call.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Hannah assured her. “What can I help with?”

“It’s about Rachel. We would have called sooner, but there were so many things...”

That prickly sensation on the back of Hannah’s neck magnified, and goosebumps raced down her arms. She didn’t recognize the strangled voice coming from her mouth. “Did something happen?”

A choked sob came from the other end of the phone. “I’m sorry, Doctor. Rachel’s… gone.”

“Gone?” Hannah’s mind whirled with possibilities, and a sense of foreboding had her stomach clenching into a tight knot. “I don’t understand…”

The woman on the other end let out a shaky breath. “Rachel took her life last week.”

Hannah’s fingers tightened on the wheel as she pulled into her driveway and parked next to Andrew’s shiny red Porsche. He glanced her way through the window, then stepped out of the sports car and shot her a sympathetic smile over the roof.

Start to finish, that day had just been crappy all around, and the only thing Hannah wanted to do was go inside, take a long, hot bath, and drink a glass of wine… or maybe the whole bottle. Entertaining really hadn’t been on her agenda, and she couldn’t help the trace of annoyance tinging her voice. “What can I do for you, Andrew?”

“I know it’s been a bad day for you, but I thought you might be hungry.” He held up a brown paper sack with a sweet smile, and she groaned inwardly. It was hard to stay mad at him when he went out of his way to be nice, but sometimes it was all just a little too much.

She had been in shock when she hung up the phone that afternoon. Rachel’s sister Elizabeth had haltingly relayed the details of Rachel’s overdose last week. Though they weren’t sure exactly what had transpired, Rachel’s mother had called her on Tuesday afternoon but hadn’t been able to reach her. They had found her later that evening, but by then it had been too late.