Page 11 of A Burning Rage

“Did Shane say something to you this morning?” I’m wondering if Shane told Sam and Cooper my period is late. It would be just like the three of them to gang up on me.

“About what?” he asks, keeping his eyes glued to his game screen.

“Anything about me.”

“He didn’t say anything about anything. Don’t be so paranoid.”

When Sam’s phone chimes with a notification, he pauses his game and picks up his phone. After he scans a text message, he puts the game down on the coffee table and sits upright, suddenly on alert. “Heads up, Princess. Mack says Shane’s on his way up, and he’s in a tizzy.”

A tizzy? Who says that anymore?

“Shane’s here? Why?” Sometimes he comes to my office for lunch, but it’s only mid-morning, way too early for that. I can’t imagine what—

My door opens and Shane walks into the room looking grim. He’s clearly not happy.

“Hi, honey,” I say, smiling up at him from my desk. “This is a nice surprise. What’s up?”

Shane glances at Sam, and then back at me. “We need to talk, sweetheart.”

Sam rises to his feet. “Do you want me to leave?”

Shane shakes his head. “You need to hear this, too.”

If Shane wants Sam to hear what he has to say, then it’s a security issue. “What is it, Shane?” I ask.

Shane looks almost apologetic as his gaze locks on mine. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Instead, he sighs heavily. Finally, after collecting himself, he says, “There’s no easy way to put this, sweetheart, so I’m just going to say it. Andrew Morton is up for parole.”

My blood turns to ice as the implication sinks in. Andrew released? “What!”

Sam’s eyes widen in shock. “You’re shitting me.”

Since Sam was hired as my full-time bodyguard shortly after Andrew attacked me, he wasn’t around when the incident occurred. But he’s undoubtedly heard all the gory details from Cooper.

“On what grounds?” Sam asks, sounding outraged on my behalf.

“His psychiatrist has petitioned for the hospital to release him. She says he has responded well to treatment and he no longer presents a risk to society.”

“That’s bullshit!” Sam says, his fair complexion turning red. “What about the risk to Beth?”

“I met with Troy this morning,” Shane says. “There will be a hearing Thursday morning, at which time Andrew’s proposed release will be discussed. Troy and I will be there, of course, to argue that the panel reject his parole.” Shane locks eyes on me. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

My heart is racing. “I need to be there, too.” Being in the same room with Andrew Morton is the last thing I want to do, but I don’t see how I can avoid it. I need to see and hear everything for myself.

On the outside, I imagine I look calm enough, but on the inside I feel like I’m fracturing into a million pieces. All those horrible memories come rushing back—memories I’d managed to lock away in the deepest recesses of my mind. Pain, fear, helplessness.

I feel sick.

In an attempt to collect myself, I turn to stare out the window at a clear blue sky. The view is quickly blurred as tears pool in my eyes.

“Sam.” Shane’s voice is low and steady. “Would you mind giving us a few moments?”

“Sure.” Sam gives me a sympathetic glance as he starts toward the door.

“Sam, please tell Erin I won’t be able to help out today,” I say. “Give her my apologies and tell her I don’t feel well.” At least that much is true.

Sam slips out of the room and closes the door behind him.

“Come here,” Shane says as he walks toward me.