Shane, who’d fallen asleep with his head resting on his arms at the edge of her bed, shot to his feet, sending his chair crashing to the floor. In that split second, he’d already scanned the room, looking for a threat. Cooper, who’d been on guard duty, burst into the room, his 9mm Beretta steady in a two-handed grip.
Lia sat up in the cot and glared at the two men. “Good God, what was that awful sound?”
Shane looked down at Beth’s restless figure in the bed, then glared at his sister. “She was having a nightmare,” he said.
Lia lay back down with an annoyed huff and turned on her side facing away from Beth’s bed. Cooper quietly slipped out of the room, returning to his post outside Beth’s door.
Shane righted his chair and sat back down. It was three o’clock in the morning, but he was surprisingly wide awake after only a few hours of restless sleep. He wouldn’t sleep well here. He wouldn’t sleep well again until he had Beth safely ensconced in his Kenilworth house. She’d be safe there – he just needed to get her to agree to the move.
“Shane?”
He almost didn’t hear Beth’s whisper, it was so quiet. He leaned forward. “What is it, sweetheart?” he whispered back.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
He smiled. “I’ll help you.”
“That’s okay. I can do it myself.” Beth attempted to sit up on her own, but she groaned at the burning pain in her torso and fell back against the pillows.
“Your nurse gave strict instructions that you’re not to get out of bed without assistance.”
“Shane!” she hissed. “I don’t want you taking me to the bathroom!”
He sighed. “Then Lia can help you. Or, I’ll call for a nurse.”
“No, don’t wake Lia.”
“Too late, Princess,” Lia muttered. “I’m already awake. I’ll do it.”
“Thank you, Lia, but that won’t be necessary.” Beth glared at Shane. “And you’re not doing it either.”
“How about Cooper, then?” Shane suggested, trying to hold onto his patience. “I’m sure he’d be happy to help you.”
“No!” Beth hissed.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Shane said. “You have to allow one of us to help you.” He leaned toward her, his mouth near her ear. “Why not me? I’ve seen and tasted every inch of your delectable body. What’s the big deal?”
“Okay, you,” she said, sounding resigned. “But just to the bathroom door. Once I’m inside, I can manage on my own.”
Shane chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”
Shane helped Beth sit up and swing her legs to the side of the bed. He helped her stand, careful of her broken arm, then supported her as she shuffled across the room.
Shane pushed the bathroom door open. “Do you want the light on?”
“No, thank you. I can manage from here,” she said.
Shane partially loosened his grip on her, and she immediately began listing to the side. “I’ll just help you over to the toilet,” he suggested, tightening his grip on her. “Then you can hold onto the handrail for support.”
“Okay,” Beth said, realizing just how weak she was. If Shane had let go of her, she would have landed on the floor.
When she reached her destination, Beth grabbed the handrail with her good hand, holding on for dear life. Her broken arm, strapped in a sling, was of course no use. She simply stood there, realizing she couldn’t do this alone. She couldn’t lift her gown and sit down and hold onto the railing at the same time. Not with just one functioning hand and hardly any strength at the moment. It was mortifying to be so weak, unable to do the most basic thing by herself.
Shane stood behind her, holding his tongue.
“I can’t do it,” she finally said, her voice sounding thick with defeat.
“I’ll lift your gown,” he said gently. “You sit down.”
When she was seated, he said, “I’ll wait outside. Call me when you’re done.”
Beth managed to take care of business, albeit a bit slowly. Once she was done, she figured if she could keep her gown from falling into the toilet, she could stand and shuffle to the sink on her own. It was just a few feet away. Surely she could manage that on her own.
She tucked the ends of her gown inside her sling and stood carefully, holding onto the hand rail for support. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she closed her eyes for a moment.
She looked over at the sink, wondering if she could walk those few steps without assistance. It wasn’t that far. Keeping her hand on the support rail as long as possible, she shuffled on her feet from the toilet to the sink. She leaned against the sink for support while she used her right hand to turn on the water.
As she waited for the water to heat up, she glanced in the mirror and saw her reflection for the first time since the assault. Dear God, she looked half dead. She must have made a sound, because the door opened and Shane was behind her, his hands going to her waist to steady her.
He frowned, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “You were supposed to call me.”
Beth’s eyes filled with tears as she stared at her reflection. She barely recognized herself. Her face was mottled with a hideous array of red splotches, angry and dark. Her nose was swollen, as were her lips, and she had two black eyes. There was no way she could go back to work looking like this, even if she could move on her own.
Shane felt his throat tighten at the sight of her tears falling silently down her battered cheeks. He hated that she was hurting. His arms snaked around her waist from behind, and he gently pulled her against him, his lips in her hair. “I will never let anyone hurt you again, I swear it.”
She met his gaze in the mirror, feeling as fragile as she looked.
“It will all heal,” Shane said, as he reached around her and held her palm under the soap dispenser. He squirted liquid soap into her hand and lathered it for her. “Dr. Prakash said you’ll be as good as new in a couple of months,” he said as he rinsed her hand under the warm water.
“A couple of months?”
“It’ll take at least that long for the discoloration to go away and for your ribs and arm to heal.”
“How could someone do this to another person?” she said, scowling at her own reflection.
“Andrew Morton is sick,” Shane said. “I spoke to his father on the phone today. Andrew’s been in therapy for years for mental health issues. But don’t worry about him; he’ll never get the chance to hurt you again. I won’t let him. Or anyone else.”
Beth lost what little strength she had mustered and sagged weakly against Shane. He dried her hand with a paper towel, then gently scooped her up and carried her back to her bed.
“She okay?” Lia said from the cot.
“Yeah, she’s fine,” Shane said, as he tucked Beth back into bed.
Chapter 42
Early Wednesday morning, Shane was sitting beside Beth’s hospital bed, helping her with breakfast, when Cooper cracked open the door to her room.
“Police are here to take Beth’s statement,” Cooper said.
Shane looked at Beth. She was wearing a pale blue fuzzy robe from home over her hospital gown, and her hair – which Shane had brushed for her that morning – was in a pony tail. She looked very respectable and ready for company.
“Are you ready to talk to them?” he said.
Beth shook her head. “I really don’t want to do this. I don’t want to think about it.” The moment Cooper had mentioned the police, her pulse rate had started to climb. The last thing she wanted to do was relive what Andrew had done to her.
“I know. But you have to give the police a statement, sweetheart,” Shane said. “We might as well get this over with. They’ll just keep coming back.”
She sighed. “All right,” she said, sounding far from enthusiastic.
Shane nodded at Cooper. “Let them in.”
Cooper pushed the door open, and two uniformed officers walked into the room. They were both middle-aged men, one tall with graying hair,
the other stout with dark hair. They approached the bed, the tall one coming to stand at the foot of the bed, the other one taking the empty guest chair.
The one standing at the foot of the bed spoke. “Good morning, Miss Jamison. I’m Officer Markham, and this is Officer Jenkins. We’re here to take your statement about the attack on you yesterday.”
Shane stood. “Shane McIntyre,” he said, and he shook hands with both officers. “I’m Beth’s boyfriend.”
Cooper had also stepped into the room and was standing just inside the door, his hands on his hips, looking very much like a military guard standing at attention. He had his jacket on, hiding his gun holster, and Beth couldn’t help wondering if it was legal to carry guns inside a hospital.
Beth smiled at Cooper, and he smiled back. Cooper reminded her of a Rottweiler guarding his territory. This Rottweiler was gray around the edges, but he was nonetheless ferocious. The realization that he was here on her behalf sent a wave of warmth through her. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her; neither would Shane.
“We’re sorry to bother you, Miss Jamison,” Officer Markham said, as he pulled a small notepad and pen from his uniform pocket. “We have statements from Mary Reynolds and Maggie Swenson already, but we need your statement, too.”
“Please sit, gentlemen,” Shane said. He rose from his chair and pushed it to the foot of the bed for Officer Markham to use. Shane sat beside Beth on her bed, reaching for her hand to give it a gentle squeeze.
“Who’s Maggie Swenson?” Shane said, looking at Beth.
“She’s a student at Kingston. She was there when Andrew arrived.” Beth looked at Officer Markham. “Is Maggie all right?”
“Yes, she’s fine,” Markham said. “Ms. Swenson said she was standing at the door to your office when Andrew Morton came out of nowhere and shoved her to the floor. Is that correct?”
“Yes. She hit the floor really hard.”
“And then what happened?” Officer Markham said.
“Then I saw Andrew standing in front of me. He looked furious. His face was red and he was breathing hard. He pushed me back inside the Special Collections room and closed the door behind us.”
Officer Markham jotted down some notes on his notepad, then looked up at her expectantly. “Did Andrew say anything to you?”
“He pushed me, and I fell against one of the tables. He yelled something at me then.”
“Can you remember what he said?”
“He called me something. I think he called me a stupid bitch.”
“Did he say anything to you that would explain what had set him off?”
Beth grimaced, trying to think back to something she would have rather forgotten. Then Andrew’s words came back to her in a blinding rush and she made a pained sound.
“What?” Officer Markham said.
Beth shook her head, feeling the burn of tears on her cheeks. She looked at Shane, her expression stricken.
“What did he say, Beth?” Shane said.
“He was angry about the benefit,” Beth said, looking at Shane. “He was angry at you.”
“What benefit?” Office Jenkins said.
“There was a charity benefit for the Children’s Hospital Saturday night, at the Hilton,” Shane said. “Andrew Morton was there. He harassed Beth on the dance floor, so I removed him physically and had a talk with him in the hallway.” Shane’s expression grew tight as he looked at Beth. “Do you remember what he said?”
Beth swallowed hard. “He said something about his dad taking away his car and, I think, his credit cards.”
Beth watched Shane’s face grow pale.
Shane cleared his throat. “I told Andrew’s father – Richard Morton – what Andrew had done. I warned Richard to keep his son under control. Richard must have taken those things away from Andrew as punishment.” He was talking to the officers, but his eyes were on Beth. “It was my fault. Andrew attacked Beth in retaliation against me.”
“No!” Beth cried, tightening her grip on Shane’s hand. “You couldn’t have known what Andrew would do. It’s not your fault, Shane.”
Shane reached out and gingerly touched the edge of Beth’s cheek, his expression pained.
“It’s not your fault!” Beth said.
“Miss Jamison?” Officer Markham said. “What happened then?”
“I ran,” she said. “I tried to get to my office, to call campus police, but he grabbed me and ripped the phone cord out of the wall. I fell and hit my head. And then he started kicking me.” She shuddered. “I don’t remember anything after that.”
“We have Ms. Reynolds’ statement, Beth,” Officer Jenkins said. “She came into the office as he was kicking you. She pulled him off of you, and then he ran. Ms. Reynolds called campus police.”
“She also called me,” Shane said. “One of my employees, Miguel Rodriguez, came to Beth’s location and waited with her until the EMTs arrived. Miguel said Beth was unconscious by the time he got there.”
Officer Markham made some notes. “Can we speak with Mr. Rodriguez?” he said.
“Of course,” Shane said. Shane glanced at Cooper.
“I’ll take care of it,” Cooper said, nodding.
“If that’s all, Officers?” Shane said. “Beth’s tired.”
Officer Jenkins rose from his chair. “We’ll be in touch if we need anything more.”
“It’s not your fault, Shane,” she said after the officers left.
“Actually, it is,” he said, his countenance bleak. “I underestimated Andrew Morton.”
Ingrid Jamison and Gabrielle arrived shortly after the police left, planning to visit with Beth for the rest of the morning.
Shane left Beth in her mother’s very capable hands, with Lia lurking unobtrusively in the background and Miguel on guard duty, and went to his apartment to take a shower and change clothes. On the way back, he stopped at a fast food drive-thru to grab food for himself, Lia, and Miguel, as well as something he thought Beth might be able to eat. He figured she was ready for a change of pace after eating hospital food for 24 hours.
When Shane got back to Beth’s room, Ingrid was brushing Beth’s hair and generally fussing over her daughter, who seemed to be soaking up the maternal attention. Tyler was there now, too, appearing a little more relaxed than he had the day before. He was even wearing jeans, which was a first as far as Shane knew. He’d never seen the man in anything other than his typical men-in-black suit and tie. Of course, they were black jeans, and he wore a white button-down shirt.
A delegation of Beth’s friends from the library – Mary Reynolds, Devany Ross, and a couple other young women – stopped by to see her, bringing flowers and balloons. Devany gave Beth a musical get-well card that played The Chicken Dance. Shane thought Lia might blow a gasket on the third playing of the card.
Even Richard Morton stopped by briefly, to see Beth’s injuries for himself. He came into her room, with Shane and Tyler looking on, and observed Beth’s injuries.
“I’m very sorry, Miss Jamison,” Richard Morton said, his voice nearly as stiff as his posture. “I – ” He cleared his throat and looked about the room, as if he were completely at a loss. “There’s nothing I can say, really,” he said. “I can’t undo the damage my son caused. I’m very sorry.”
Beth smiled sadly at the man. “Thank you.”
Shane walked Richard down the hall to the elevator.
“Shane, I don’t know what to say,” Richard said.
Shane nodded, thinking Richard looked awfully pale. Shane had never really cared for the man – Richard Morton had arrogance down pat – but right now, he felt sorry for the man.
After Beth ate her lunch, Shane finally managed to get everyone out of her room. Lia took off to go grab a shower and a change of clothes at the Lake Shore apartment. Tyler escorted his mother and Gabrielle down to the cafeteria so they could get some lunch. Shane gave Miguel instructions to not let anyone in the room for the next half-hour, short of an emergency.
Sha
ne sat in the chair beside Beth’s bed, facing her. He leaned toward her, his elbows on his knees. “Beth, we need to talk.”
Beth looked at him warily. “Okay,” she said. “What do you want to talk about?”
Shane couldn’t take his eyes off the bruises that stood out starkly on her pale face. Her lips were still swollen, but the cuts were starting to heal. At the moment, he struggled with a burning need to hunt down Andrew Morton and exact revenge on Beth’s behalf. But there wasn’t time to indulge in that kind of thinking right now. The need to settle things with Beth was eating at him.
“I want to discuss your security arrangements,” he said. “I’ve cancelled Tyler’s contract. I’m going to personally oversee your safety now.”
“I thought Andrew was in jail,” she said.
“He is. And after the court hearing, I expect he’ll be remanded to a mental health facility for evaluation and treatment. And then he’s either headed for prison or a psychiatric hospital. Either way, he’s not getting out anytime soon. But frankly, Andrew’s not my main concern. Kline is.”
Beth frowned. “What about him? Tyler said you weren’t sure if he was still a threat.”
“He is a threat, sweetheart,” Shane said. “He recently bought a handgun over the Internet – illegally – and he purchased ammunition. We also know he’s been scouring the Internet for information on you – where you live, where you work. He’s been shadowing you on social media sites. He’s a serious risk, sweetheart.”
Beth paled.
He interlaced their fingers. “I want you to move into my house in Kenilworth. You can recuperate there while we deal with Kline.”
“But what about my house?”
“Beth, your house isn’t secure. My estate in Kenilworth is,” he said. “No one can get on that property without permission. I want you to come stay there with me.”
“For how long?”
He shrugged. “Beth, I’m asking you to move in with me. Not just because of the security issue – although that’s a big part of it – but because of us, as well. To be perfectly honest, I want you under my roof.”
Vulnerable: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 1) Page 38