Page 2 of A Burning Rage

“Tyler.” Whatever he wants to dish my way, I’m ready for it. He’s only just learned that his sister and I are involved, and I know he’s not happy about it.

“You and I have a lot to talk about, Shane. But right now, I’m going down to the County jail to oversee the charges.” He glares at me through the same ethereal shade of blue-green eyes that Beth has. But where she is fair, he’s dark—his hair, his personality, even his mood. His posture is stiff, and his jaws are tightly clenched.

I half expect him to take a swing at me, and I’m surprised when he doesn’t. “Let me know what you find out.”

Tyler nods curtly. “You’ll stay here and keep an eye on her?”

“Of course.” Hell, wild horses couldn’t drag me away from her.

“I won’t be long.” He acknowledges Cooper with a perfunctory nod before he walks away.

“Does he know about you and Beth?” Cooper asks.

“He does now. When Beth first woke up a short while ago, he walked in on us talking. I didn’t hide my feelings, nor did she. He knows.”

* * *

After Tyler leaves, I return to my post at Beth’s bedside, holding her good hand and doing my best to comfort her through the pain. We’re waiting for someone to take her to X-ray her arm. As she dozes on and off, I catalogue every mark on her body. Seeing her like this is almost more than I can take.

Over the next few hours, I hover nearby as visitors come to see her—her mother, Ingrid; her housemate, Gabrielle. I’m glad her mom is here. I think some tender motherly attention is probably what Beth needs most of all right now.

But underneath my calm façade, I’m still raging inside. I’m angry at myself, as well as at Andrew Morton. Andrew attacked Beth to get back at me for humiliating him at the annual hospital charity gala. The lovesick college student who’d been crushing on Beth cornered her in the hallway leading to the restrooms, and when I caught him in the act, I practically dragged him in front of his father, Richard Morton, a prominent Chicago cardiologist.

When Richard punished his son, Andrew took his anger out on Beth because she was an easy target, and because he couldn’t hurt me. She paid the price for my handling of the young medical school student.

Every time she winces in pain, every time she cries out, I feel a dagger twisting in my gut.

She could have died because of me, and I’ll have to live with this guilt for the rest of my life.

Chapter 2 – Beth McIntyre

Now…

My idea of the perfect evening is to sit in my cozy, oversized armchair with my feet up on an ottoman, sip peppermint tea, and watch my husband wrestling with our two kids on the family room rug. Everything is right in my world tonight. Everyone’s fed—thank you for a delicious homecooked meal, Cooper!—the kids are bathed and dressed in their PJs, and right now, Shane is focusing one hundred percent of his attention on our kids, making memories with them that will hopefully last a lifetime.

To Luke and Ava—our precocious three-year-old son and one-year-old daughter—Shane is simply Daddy. They have no clue he’s the CEO and co-founder of a billion-dollar security firm.

He’s just Daddy. He’s the one who gives them pony rides in the evenings and reads Luke his bedtime stories before he tucks him in at night.

A wave of sadness sweeps over me when I think about the fact I have no memories of my own father to carry with me. He died in the line of duty as a Chicago police officer when I was six months old, leaving behind a devastated wife, a heartbroken eighteen-year-old son, and a baby daughter who would never know the joy of wrestling with her daddy.

Ava squeals loudly, nearly shattering my eardrums and pulling me out of my reverie. Shane laughs as he lies on his back and holds her high in the air above him. She loves to play the airplane game.

“Be careful,” I caution. “She just ate dinner a little while ago.” Our daughter has a reputation for spitting up.

Shane laughs off my warning. “I’ve been puked on before, and I’ll be puked on again.” Nevertheless, he rolls to his side and brings Ava gently down to the floor, where he tickles her as she wriggles, her little arms and legs thrashing as she squeals with delight.

And while Shane and Ava are occupied, Luke climbs on top of Shane, wobbling dangerously as he tries to stand on his father’s hip. “I’m king of the mountain, Daddy!”

Shane releases Ava and rolls onto his back, upsetting the apple cart, so to speak. Luke loses his balance and falls, and Shane catches him before he hits the floor.

When the grandfather clock begins to chime at the top of the hour, Shane stands and hauls both kids up, draping them over his shoulders like sacks of potatoes. “Did you hear that? Eight bells means it’s bedtime.”

“But, Daddy!” Luke cries. “We’re having fun.”

“Sorry, pal.” Shane gestures to the big mahogany clock that stands regally beside the brick fireplace. “The clock has spoken. It’s bedtime.”

Shane walks over to me and gently deposits Ava in my lap. “This one’s all yours.” He leans down to drop a light kiss on my lips. “I’ll see you shortly.” And then he carts Luke down the hallway that leads to our bedrooms.