Page 4 of The Devil’s Lair

“Felicity is at my house?” I whisper. “With Isla?”

“Yes.”

My heart sinks. My mother-in-law is a formidable woman, and I’ve never been able to stand up to her.

“Rebecca, what’s going on?”

“Marcus is dead.” The words feel strange in my mouth. “And I’m at the police station.”

“Oh, God. Jesus, how?”

“Didn’t Felicity tell you?”

I presume she knows. The police would’ve gone around to her house and told her. What will she do now that Marcus is gone? I should feel sorry for her—no parent should ever have to bury their child—but Marcus was a monster, and she had to have known that.

“No. She just said my services were no longer required and to get out. I tried calling you.”

“The police took my stuff.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay.” I’m not okay. I am far from okay.

Once the call is over, I pay little attention as the duty sergeant reads out the charges. It’s the moment he tells me I’ll be kept in custody until my court hearing in the morning that I almost lose it.

“Please, I’ll go to the hearing, but I have to get home to my daughter. I promise I’ll be wherever you tell me to be.”

“Sorry, love. It doesn’t work like that.”

A uniformed officer leads me to a cell, and the doors clang shut. I stare at it for the longest time, a feeling of dread churning in my stomach.

What the hell have I done?

Chapter Two

TOBIAS

My chest is on fire.

I try to move but can’t. Everything fucking hurts. What the hell happened?

A repetitive beeping sound burrows beneath my skin like ants on the march. Someone shut that fucking noise up.

“Tobias?”

I attempt to open my eyes. Harsh overhead lighting makes me close them again.

“He’s waking up.”

That sounds positive. It means I’m alive, at least. I groan. Fucking hell. Did I get into a fight or something? No, it can’t be that. The other guy would be here instead of me.

Where is here?

Eye opening attempt number two: success.

Someone has turned down the lights. I roll my head to the side. Dad and Xan loom over me like two fucking grim reapers. Nicholas and Christian linger at the end of my bed. My eyes sweep to the other side. Saskia's pale face catches my attention first, then her luminous brown eyes, swimming with worry.

“Jesus, it must be serious if you’re all here.” I cough, then hiss as pain lances through me. “What the fuck happened?”