Page 72 of The Devil’s Lair

His features darken, and a muscle jumps in his cheek. “Bravo on the diversionary tactic.”

“It’s a genuine question.”

“Your timing is suspect.”

“And your avoidance of the answer is telling. Dude, seriously, are we planning to keep him in the basement for the next twenty years, or are you going to do what you really want to and end the guy?”

Xan studiously ignores me as he gets to his feet. The door to the cabin swings open, and a blast of wind whips around my body. I shrug into my coat, gesturing to Xan to go first. He jogs down the steps and into our car. I follow, slamming the door.

“Every time I think about the man I want to kill him. My fingers itch to clasp around that raping bastard’s throat and watch his life drain away.”

I clip my seat belt in place. “Then, why don’t you?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Because if I do, I’ll never get answers. We’ll never get answers, and we fucking need them. We deserve them. I know he’s lying. I know he either kidnapped me and Annabel and killed Mum, or he knows who did, and until he gives up that intel, I can’t kill him.”

“Torture?” I grin.

Xan doesn’t. “Believe me, it’s crossed my mind. Even thought about calling Mahoney and giving him and his brothers a shot at getting to the truth.”

Patrick Mahoney, head of the Irish mafia, is a man we call upon when we need something dirty doing and don’t want the blood on our hands.

“Do it. George has been in that cell for months. If he hasn’t told you by now, he doesn’t plan to.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Xan sighs. “Dad’s the only one stopping me.”

“Dad? Why would he care?”

Xan rolls his head in my direction. “If it was me or Nicholas or Christian in that cell, could you stand by while someone tortured us for information?”

“If any of you had assaulted my wife? Yeah, I would.”

He gives me a wry smile. “Whatever vile things he’s done, he’s still Dad’s brother. Imagine growing up with someone, living with them for decades, only to find out they raped your wife, impregnated her, then sixteen years later, kidnapped the children you thought were yours, resulting in one of them dying. It’s a mindfuck, and as much as Dad’s putting a brave face on it, he’s got to be crumbling inside. I don’t want to add to his troubles.”

I nudge him with my elbow. “You’re a better son to him than I am. Get myself shot, causes a family scandal, and Dad has to scramble to put everything back on the straight and narrow.”

He rolls his lips. “How are things going with Rebecca?”

“She’s become a good friend.”

“Is that all?”

I square my shoulders. “Yes. And that’s all either of us want it to be.”

“I see.”

He doesn’t see. Or maybe he does, and that’s the problem.

“Plus, I idolize Isla.”

“Yeah, she’s a sweet kid.” He narrows his eyes, studying me with too much intensity for my liking.

“What?”

His amber eyes pierce mine. “Anything you want to tell me?”

If I look away, he’ll keep pushing for more details, and I haven’t even figured shit out for myself yet.

“I want it on record,” I say with a grin, “that I’m trapped in a car with no viable exit strategy, which I find extremely unfortunate. I am a delightful person. People like me. This shouldn’t surprise you.”