Page 12 of A Burning Rage

When he holds out his hands, I take them and rise from my chair on shaky legs.

He pulls me into his arms and holds me tight. “It’s going to be okay.” His words are muffled against my hair. “I won’t let him hurt you again. I swear it on my life.”

Instead of comforting me, as he intended, Shane’s vow has the opposite effect. My greatest fear in life is losing someone I love, and Shane and our children are at the top of that list. I’m not just afraid for myself. I’m afraid for my family.

“Shh,” he murmurs, his lips pressed to my temple. “Troy and I will do everything in our power to make sure he doesn’t get out. And if he does, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”

It’s not until he brushes a trail of tears from my cheek that I realize I’m crying.

Just when life seems perfect, something happens to turn everything upside down.

Shane cups my face and leans down to kiss me. It’s a gentle kiss, meant to be reassuring more than anything else. “Trust me, please,” he says against my lips. “It’s going to be okay.”

The dam breaks, and the tears come rushing out. I’m not afraid for myself. I’m afraid of what this man I love more than my next breath will do in order to keep his promise. That’s what scares me most. Because I trust him, and I know he’ll keep his word.

But at what cost to himself and to our family?

Chapter 5 – Shane

Beth is shutting down emotionally, drowning in fear and anxiety, and it breaks my heart to hear her crying. I walk her over to the sofa and sit with her, pulling her into my arms. I lean my head against hers and murmur reassuring words. “Please don’t worry, sweetheart. I promise I won’t let him hurt you.”

I swear it on my life.

And still, she cries, her hot, damp face pressed into my shoulder. We sit like this for a while, until she eventually stops shaking.

“I’m taking you home,” I say.

She nods but doesn’t speak as she reaches for a tissue from the box on the coffee table and dabs her wet cheeks. When the tissue is saturated, I take it from her, wad it up, and toss it into the trashcan beside her desk. I hand her a fresh one, and she starts the process all over again.

I squeeze her free hand. “Wait here a moment. I need to talk to Sam.”

When I step outside Beth’s office, I’m not surprised to find Sam standing guard at the door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks as pissed and frustrated as I feel.

“How is she?” he asks.

“About how you’d expect. I’m taking her home, Sam. I drove the Jag today, so unfortunately there’s only room for the two of us.”

Sam nods. “Not a problem. I’ll find my own way home.”

“Call Cooper and tell him what’s going on. I think he’ll want to come home, too. He can pick you up.”

Nodding, Sam pulls out his phone. “On it. Go. Take her home.”

I return to Beth’s side and help her collect her purse and phone. Then I walk her downstairs and out the door to my car parked out front.

She stands numbly beside the car as I open the front passenger door and help her in. When she sits staring blankly out the front windshield, I take the liberty of reaching inside and buckling her seatbelt. Just like old times.

Mention of Andrew is bringing back a whole slew of bad memories for her. The attack happened around the same time Howard Klein was out on parole, and we were worried about her safety then. That period was one of the darkest in her life, and it’s all coming back to her.

After I pull into traffic, I reach for her hand. It’s soft and slender and chilled to the bone. “It’s going to be all right, Beth.”

She looks over at me with haunted eyes, but she doesn’t say a word.

* * *

When we walk into the house, Ingrid is surprised to see us. I realize I should have called ahead to let her know we were coming home early—and together.

Immediately, she knows something is wrong. She only needs to take one look at her daughter to see that. “Sweetie, what—”