Page 125 of Beat of Love
Then her.
Her body was eerily intact; the flames had barely danced over her skin — like hell was simply biding its time to finish the job.
It was Kamila.
He set the phone down with a heavy hand.
He got dressed and took his morning coffee out onto the back veranda, eyes fixed on the tree line beyond which Brandy-Lyn’s cabin stood.
He wanted to rush over and share the good news.
That the danger hanging over him, his family,them, was finally over.
That he was free. Free to love her. Free to talk about a future with her.
But he couldn’t.
Because since that morning — the one where he finally blurted out the ugly truth surrounding the accident — everything had changed.
His mother had overheard. And now she moved differently around him.
Quietly. Carefully.
Like she was tiptoeing through a cage that housed something wild. She handed him things without meeting his eyes. Kept her voice light, all sugary sweet and cheerful. As if she were trying not to startle the monster she suddenly believed might live inside him.
If Brandy-Lyn ever looked at him like that — like she didn’t quite recognize him, like she wasn’t sure she was safe …
That would destroy him.
He tossed the rest of the coffee into the grass.
And ran, a thousand regrets nipping at his heels.
37
The call
Rafferty lowered the towel from drying his face at the sound of the approaching wheelchair. “Hey, Pa.”
“Son,” his father greeted. “Hard day?”
“Yeah.”
“But you’re good?”
“I’m good, Pa.”
“Figured I’d come and warn you.”
“Warn me?”
“Your ma invited a guest for supper.”
Rafferty didn’t bother suppressing his exasperated sigh. “Who is it this time?”
“Brandy-Lyn.”
His heart leaped at the mention of the woman’s name. “Not Brandy-Lyn,” he groaned.
