Page 19 of The Devil’s Lair

The heat hits before the thought, sharp, rising, furious. This is Felicity’s doing. She has the contacts and the spite to besmirch me in public. Too late, I see her playbook. If she can prove I’m an unfit mother, then she gets Isla, regardless of what happened with the court case.

The room blurs at the edges. Isla laughs at something on the TV, her sweet childish giggles slicing through the panic. I get up and pace, biting my fingernails too close to the skin. A bead of blood appears on my thumb, right next to my cuticle, and I shake out my hand. What am I going to do?

The knock at the door startles me enough that I jump. I peer through the front window. The man calling must sense me there, because he turns in my direction and holds up an envelope, then makes a scribbling motion with his finger.

A letter. For me. One that needs a signature.

It can’t be from the court informing me of the dropped charges. Mr. Felton said it would be a few days, at least. I’m like Bambi on two legs instead of four, as I make my way to the front door, using my hands on the walls for support when I open it.

“Letter for La Salle,” the courier cheerfully announces, ignorant of the panic swirling through me like an F5 tornado. “Need a signature, love.”

He hands me a screen, the box for my signature visible. Using my nail, I squiggle.

“Thanks.” I clutch the thick white envelope and shut the door. My heart’s pounding so fast, I swear it’s going to burst out of my chest. Isla’s preoccupied with the TV, her legs curled beneath her, and Bear hugged to her chest. Her innocence wraps around my heart and squeezes until I can barely breathe. Before I had her, I never thought I could love someone as much as I love her. She’s my entire reason for living. When things were bad with Marcus, she was the one bright light that kept me going.

It makes what I almost did at Tobias De Vil’s club even worse. If I’d succeeded in killing Marcus, I would have left Isla a virtual orphan, then Felicity would have got her wish. But even as guilt consumes me, I give myself a bit of grace. The things Marcus did to me the night before it happened, the things he let his friends do to me while he cheered them on… No wonder I was out of my fucking mind.

The edges of my vision go black. I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for the wave of gut-wrenching fear and nausea rippling through my stomach to pass. Once it does, I sink into the chair closest to the window and drop the envelope into my lap. In the top left-hand corner is a stamped crest. I peer closer.

McKay Law.

As much as I’d love to believe the courier got the wrong address, he didn’t. There’s my name, printed in neat black font on the front. I stare at it until the letters blur, my fingers twitching against my thigh. I smooth the fabric of my skirt. Anything to stop my hands from shaking.

The cartoons chatter on, too loud, too bright, too fucking happy. My pulse, rapid and uneven, hammers in my throat. Without opening it, I know what this is, even if some foolish part of me wants to believe I’m wrong.

I trace the flap with my thumb. Holding a breath in my lungs, I tear it open. Inside is a wad of papers, but everything I need to know is on the covering letter. The words jumble even as my brain connects the dots. The story about my mental health, planted no doubt by Felicity, has given my mother-in-law the perfect excuse to try to wrestle custody of my daughter from me.

Well, too fucking bad. I will not let her get her hands on my innocent baby. Felicity raised the cruelest man I’ve ever known. If she gets Isla, she’ll poison her mind, make me out to be the villain, and Marcus the poor, unfortunate victim of a woman with questionable morals and a mental health problem.

I know what I have to do. Felicity can’t have Isla if she doesn’t know where she is. We need to go, disappear, get as far away from London as possible. Scotland, maybe. The Shetland Isles. Somewhere she’ll never think to look. Living costs are much cheaper up there, too. All I have to do is pick a small village, the kind where the community rallies round to help one another. They still exist, right? They have to. I can’t bear to think of the consequences if I stay here.

Felicity is not getting my child. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

I crouch in front of Isla. “Hey, pumpkin. What do you think about an adventure? You, me, and Bear?”

Her eyes light up, and she nods.

“Perfect. Come on, let’s go and pack some things, then we get to go on a train. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She nods again, already on her feet and sprinting for the stairs. In thirty minutes, we’re packed and ready to go. I’m terrified of what lies ahead, but I’m far more terrified of losing Isla. Without her, my life is worthless.

Taking her tiny hand in mine, I open the door and do a double take, because standing on the front step, his hand raised ready to knock, is Tobias De Vil

Chapter Seven

TOBIAS

“Well, would you look at that. I didn’t even have to knock.” I smile down at Isla, all bundled up in a pink coat and matching hat, then glance at the suitcase on the floor beside Rebecca. I frown. “Going somewhere?”

She’s got the air of someone caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing. Her cheeks redden, and she tucks her chin. “Are you feeling better, Mr. De Vil?”

“Tobias, please. Yes, much. Still a little weak, but it takes more than a bullet to slow me down.” I jerk my chin at the suitcase. “What gives?”

“Oh.” She shrugs. “A family trip.”

“Last minute decision?”

“You could say that.” She nibbles her bottom lip.