Page 130 of The Devil’s Lair

“We’ll save them for later, okay, pumpkin? I’ll even let you have two. Maybe even three.” I kiss her again and squeeze her in reassurance.

Her sobs lessen and she rests her head on my shoulder as she sticks her thumb in her mouth. Tobias has this expression on his face, a mixture of regret and determination. He strokes her hair and grimaces.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He places his hand on my lower back and eases me from the restaurant.

We don’t speak of it on the journey home. Once I’ve settled Isla down for her nap, I emerge from her bedroom to find Tobias examining one of the sweets.

“Care to tell me what that was about?” I perch on the arm of the chair.

He drops the sweet in his palm and gazes at it for a few more seconds. “All I can tell you is my gut screamed at me not to let Isla eat those sweets, yet I have absolutely nothing factual to back that up other than instinct.”

“You think she poisoned them or something?” I laugh.

Tobias doesn’t. “Maybe.”

“Oh, come on. Felicity has many faults, but she adores Isla. Why else would she have tried to get custody?” I shake my head. “Can’t see it.”

“Well, we’ll know soon enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m having them tested.”

My mouth drops open. “You seriously think there’s something wrong with them?”

He hitches a shoulder. “Should only take a couple of days. In the meantime, I’ll keep these locked in my safe.”

“Jesus, Tobias.” I run a hand over my face. “Even considering the possibility is mind-blowing.”

I don’t see it. I can’t. But, like he said, it hurts no one to put the sweets through a simple test. I’m certain the results will be negative.

And if they aren’t… what then?

Chapter Thirty-Nine

TOBIAS

As the plates are cleared away from our regular monthly family dinner, Dad asks me to join him in the drawing room. An uneasy feeling circles my abdomen. This could only be about one thing, and if it’s bad news, I’m not sure I’ll handle it all that well.

He pours us a drink, handing me a snifter of brandy. I take a sip and wait for the bottom to fall out of my world.

“There’s been movement in the Southall case.”

A jolt of electricity shoots through me. I was right. God, please let the movement be in a positive direction. “Oh, yeah?”

“You were right, son. There are others. Many others.”

A deep sorrow burrows into my chest. Sorrow for strangers I have a connection to, even though they’ll never know.

“Any willing to come forward?”

In some ways, I feel cowardly for not being that person, the strong one who takes the lead and drags the Southalls through the hell they deserve. On more than one occasion, I’ve been tempted to just take them out, wipe them off the face of the earth like I did with Rebecca’s rapists. But I regret not asking her what she wanted to do, even though she was fine about it. These other victims deserve the chance to decide what justice looks like to them. If no one is willing to take this through the legal system, then I’ll act.

“Yes. Several.” Dad checks his watch. “In fact, the police should be knocking on the Southalls’ door any time now.”

Relief hits me with the force of a tsunami. I take a step back. “Good. I hope they rot in prison for a long time.”

My phone vibrates. I take it out, my pulse rate spiking.