Page 86 of The Devil’s Lair

I consider his question, running my fingers over the table. “I’m not sure. A little empty, I guess. But I’m not afraid.”

He crosses the room and entwines our fingers, staring at our joined hands. “Can I ask you something about that night?”

“You can ask me whatever you like. I owe you.”

He shakes his head, his eyes darkening. “No. Not owe. You owe me nothing, Wren. I’ll ask, but if you don’t want to talk about it, then you tell me. There is no ‘owing.’ Not between you and me.”

I lower my head. “Sorry.”

He lets go of my hand and brings his forefinger beneath my chin, tilting up my head until our eyes meet. “No apologies, please. It breaks my heart.”

“Why?” My voice is barely a whisper. Electricity crackles between us. Or maybe I’m just imagining it.

“Because it gives me a peek into how your life was. How small you must have made yourself to avoid the wrath of a man I wish was alive so I could spend days torturing him, like he spent years torturing you and Isla.”

My heart races, pumping blood around my body until I’m dizzy with it. “You’re a special man, Tobias. There’s something about you that’s unique and wonderful. I hope you know that.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “My head just swelled three times its size. We’re going to have to widen the doors before I can leave.”

I chuckle, too. “Go on, ask me. If I don’t want to answer, I won’t.”

“Why did you choose that particular night to attempt to kill Marcus? Was there a catalyst?”

A lump crawls into my throat. I swallow, my palms breaking out in a sweat. Images from that night assault me, and the cold-blooded fear I’d felt comes roaring back. I can’t speak, so I nod instead.

“Hey, you’re okay.” He runs his hand up and down my arm. “You’re safe. Forget I asked.”

“No.” The word pushes out through a closed throat. “I want to tell you. Just give me a minute.”

“Do you want to go back to my office? Or leave? Would that be easier?”

“I’d prefer to stay.” Oddly, I think telling him here will help me get this story out. I swallow again. “Could I have some water?”

“Of course.” He leaves the room, returning a short while later holding a glass of water with several square ice cubes bobbing on the top. I take two or three gulps, then set it on the table.

“Sorry. I should have expected this question sooner or later.”

“Truly, Wren, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I think it will help heal me a little more if I do. Like purging a demon.”

He nods, patiently waiting. No pushing, no urging, just Tobias being Tobias.

“I’ve already told you about how it was between Marcus and me, so I’m sure it isn’t a surprise when I say I fantasized about killing him on many occasions. But that’s all it was, a fantasy. I knew I’d never find the courage to go through with it. Mostly, I dreamed about escaping him, picking up Isla and running away, but that dream was as much a fantasy as killing him.”

I pick up the water and take another sip. My mouth’s as dry as a flip flop in the heat of summer.

“The night before Marcus brought me here, he’d been out drinking with his friends. I was in bed when he came home. I remember my heart pounding, and I burrowed under the covers as if that would save me. It didn’t. Marcus came straight upstairs and dragged me out of bed by my hair. He was always crueler when he had friends around to impress. But that night, he escalated.”

My heart’s pounding, like it was that night, and I almost stop. Almost tell Tobias I can’t go on, but if I do that, I’ll never fully heal. I’ve got close on a couple of occasions to telling Jane this story yet never quite made it. I have no doubt, though, that it’s my sessions with her helping me now. She often speaks about trauma as a cancer that, if we don’t purge it, will slowly eat us alive. It may take years or decades, but eventually, it will destroy us.

“He’d brought back six friends. My instincts went crazy. I knew this would be bad, and it was. They…” I run my fingers over my lips and drop my gaze to the floor. “They took turns. Marcus egged them on. I couldn’t cry in case I woke Isla. At some point, I lost consciousness. I came to the next morning, sprawled out on the living room floor, bloody and beaten. It became clear to me then that if I didn’t find a way out, he was going to eventually kill me. I knew he had an illegal gun and where he kept it. When he came home from work and told me we’d been invited to a sex club, all I saw were more horrors in my future. Horrors that kept getting worse. I couldn’t take it anymore. I think I lost my mind.” I shrug. “You know the rest.”

An eerie silence cloaks the room where our lives collided. I’m still looking at the floor when he captures my hands and wraps them around his waist, then encases me in his arms. No questions, no recriminations, no berating me for not going to the police or for bringing trouble to his door. Just Tobias stroking my hair and comforting me.

It’s my breaking point. Tears roll down my face. I can’t stop them. I cry and cry until my eyes run dry. Even then, my chest heaves with racking sobs. He strokes my hair and holds me tighter, my own security blanket manifesting in a warm, solid body.

“No one will ever hurt you again, Wren. You have my word.”