Flash Burned (Burned 2)

ia event at 10,000 Lux.

He must have changed them that morning while I was in the shower. Or maybe he’d had Rosa switch out the sateen ones.

I shook my head. Maybe, at the moment—in the beginning stages of my mourning—I really shouldn’t be surrounded by all of these memories and enveloped in a life that no longer existed. Maybe clinging to yesterday wasn’t the healthiest thing to do while I tried to move forward—toward tomorrow, with a baby.

Losing Dane was all too new, too fresh, too raw, to think about, anyway. And I feared I just might snuggle under these warm sheets and cry myself to sleep … stay here for the next several months.

An appealing, alluring notion. One so strong and palpable, I actually considered it quite seriously. I was exhausted after all. Wrecked.

But I had an obligation to Dane. To our baby.

So I hauled myself up and closed one door behind me while Kyle opened another.

chapter 9

The rehabilitation retreat was set back in a secluded canyon and surrounded by full trees and vibrant flowers, spanning several acres. A detached garage sat outside the elegantly walled property and there was a security gate just off the stone pathway that led from the red-dirt drive. There were a couple other houses in the area, about a half mile or so away in all directions.

Kyle plugged in the code at the gate but still had to wait for verification before the lock released. He gestured me through the opening and I took in the gorgeous grounds, with a few private courtyards, a stream, small fountains that trickled water in a soothing way. Wind chimes hung in the trees and added a soft trill as a gentle breeze wafted through them.

We wound our way to the front double doors. Benches and chairs were scattered all over the patio, a welcoming respite, silently inviting guests to sit and relax. Chill out. Hang and heal.

I liked the atmosphere immediately. Perhaps I had been a little too wrapped up in my bleak world, not turning on lights while I hid from reality.

I inhaled deeply, the fragrant flowers filling my senses. I felt a little calmer. Though my stomach was still a tight pretzel and the nausea lingered on the fringes.

We were greeted by a lanky man in his forties, wearing tan Dockers and a hunter-green polo shirt with a shield embroidered on his left chest, below the name Parker.

Kyle said to him, “Adam, this is Ari DeMille. We’re here to see my aunt.”

“Adam Parker.” He held his hand out to me. “Head of security. Please, come in.”

The house was warmly decorated with a lot of comfy-looking furniture, interesting knickknacks, books, and whatnot. In the back of the house was a large solarium. The tall windows and the wood-and-glass-enclosed doors looked out on another cozy patio and gardens beyond.

“What a wonderful surprise,” said a petite woman with a soft, youthful face, cornflower-blue eyes, and a smart strawberry blonde bob. She smiled prettily at Kyle. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He gave her a gentle squeeze, then told her, “Sorry I haven’t been by in a while.”

“I was just so relieved to hear from your mother that you were okay after the explosion at 10,000 Lux.” She placed her hand over her heart. “What a harrowing experience it must have been.”

“This is Ari DeMille—she was there as well,” Kyle said. “Since then, things have gotten a little … complicated. She needs your help.”

“Nice preamble,” I muttered. To Macy, I said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr.—” I suddenly realized I hadn’t asked Kyle her last name on the drive over.

“Stevens,” she politely offered.

Extending my hand, I simply said, “Ari.”

“Very lovely to meet you. Now, why don’t we step into an exam room and you can tell me why you’re here.”

We left Kyle in the solarium and returned to the front of the house. When the door closed behind us and we had some privacy, I told her, “I’m pregnant. Four weeks.”

It instantly dawned on me, as I considered the date, that we’d missed Christmas. At least, my dad and I had. Which didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, since we weren’t holiday oriented and there was no way in hell I could ever have mustered Christmas cheer when all I could think of was the fact that Dane was—

I shook the thought from my head. I couldn’t dwell on that currently, though it would forever fester in the back of my mind. If I could trap it in those shadowy parts where I also kept memories of my parents’ venomous arguments and all the volatile smashing of glass and slamming of doors, I might maintain my sanity.

Maybe.

“Well,” Dr. Stevens said as she eyed me from head to toe. Then gingerly lifted a few wispy strands of my hair to inspect my stitches. When she stepped back, I raised my arms, palms up, to show her the stitches there as well.