56. Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Five

Lana

E rika steps into the office and gives me a vaguely nervous smile. She glances from Brooke to me and back again, her gaze narrowing slightly.

“I’m doing okay on reception, right? This isn’t some kind of work appraisal thing?”

“It’s got nothing to do with work. You’re doing great,” I tell her.

She blows out a breath. “Phew. I was worried for a second.”

“Why don’t you take a seat next to Brooke?” I ask, moving over to the couch Pete and I christened a little while ago. I sit down opposite Erika.

Her posture is perfect as she looks back at me. “Um, so, what is this about if it’s not a work thing?”

She glances at Brooke, and Brooke looks over at me.

“This is about Warren Corvina,” I start.

“Brooke’s father,” Erika murmurs.

“You know what he did to Brooke.”

“Who could forget?” Erika says, with a shiver. “What a piece of garbage. I’m glad he’s in prison.”

“He is, which is why we don’t want you to worry, but there’s something we need to tell you.”

She blinks. “Okay. What is it?”

“My father brainwashed some of the students here,” Brooke cuts in, sighing once it’s out. “I’m sorry, Erika, but you were one of them.”

Erika stares at her. “Um, what? He did what? No … I would know.”

She looks at me. “I would know if he’d done that. I’d know. Right?”

“Brooke didn’t know until she was triggered.”

Erika takes in a slow, deep breath. “Okay. So, you’re telling me I’ve been brainwashed by that piece of garbage, and I won’t know until something bad happens?”

“We’re doing what we can to make sure nothing bad happens,” I assure her. “Brooke’s working on figuring out what he was trying to achieve with what he did to you. In the meantime …”

I trail off realizing I can’t let Erika stay on reception, even if she’s been a great help.

We need to stop the chance of someone calling her or using the internet to trigger her.

If she’s on reception, she’s at risk.

“In the meantime?” Erika asks.

“You’ll have to take a hiatus from your job, and you won’t be able to use the internet or a phone line.”

She gives me a look of horror. “I’m off the job? And I can’t go online? Are you serious?”

I exchange a glance with Brooke, and she puts an arm around Erika.

“It’s just until we can reverse the effects of what he did to you. We can’t risk you being triggered.”

“Can I have that in writing?” she asks.

“Sure,” I tell her. “Trust me, the job will be waiting for you when you’re good to come back.”

That seems to reassure her a little, but she shakes her head.

“I just … I don’t understand how he could have brainwashed me. I don’t remember spending any time with him. I … Oh, my … I had therapy sessions that I barely remember anything about. Was that … Did he use that time to do this?”

Brooke nods. “I’m sorry. Your therapist was on his payroll. She might have helped with the brainwashing, or else she let him come in and do it while she walked away with a fat paycheck.”

“That … That … Malibu Beach House with Fudging Sugarbags on top!”

My jaw drops as Brooke snorts in amusement.

That’s probably the closest Erika’s ever come to actually swearing.

“Fudging Fudge,” she mutters, crossing her arms.

“You might feel a little better if you actually swear,” Brooke suggests.

“I’d rather not,” Erika says. “I’m already mentally wringing her dumb old lady neck. I’m in enough trouble with the big guy upstairs.”

“Thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it,” Brooke reminds her.

“Thinking about it is bad enough.” Erika lets out another sigh. “Do we know how long I’ll have to sit in my suite bored with nothing to do?”

“I’m hopeful that we’ll figure out enough details within a few days,” Brooke answers.

“A few days?” Erika seems to consider this. “That doesn’t sound so bad, I guess. What happens then?”

“We’ll have a psychologist assess you and that should hopefully be the end of it.”

“Then I get to come back to work?”

“Then you get to come back to work.”

She nods. “Okay then. I’ll be in my suite if anyone needs me.”

“We’ll assign a guard soon,” I add. “He’ll be outside your door for protection.”

We all stand up, and Erika hugs Brooke.

“It was nice to see you again, Brooke. I’m glad you’re doing so well after everything.”

“You’ll be doing well soon, too,” Brooke tells her.

“I hope so. Thanks.” She leaves the room.

I go over to my desk and open the HR file on my PC.

“Who’s next?” I ask absently as I open the slip of paper back up.

“Teri,” Brooke says. “The arty girl with the blue hair?”

I can picture her as I look her full name up on the system.

That brings the phone number for her room up for me.

Erika took the news as well as we could have expected.

I doubt the rest of the Omegas will be so calm about it.

My stomach churns as I dial Teri’s extension.

It’s not going to be a fun afternoon.