Page 27 of The Devil’s Lair

“Look at you.” Victoria winks at me. “You’re smitten.”

I feel my face heat. She isn’t wrong, and it’s not only Isla who’s punched a hole in my chest. There’s a second one right alongside it that Rebecca made the night I took a bullet for her. Except I still can’t figure out what it is about her that’s pulling me in. Is it because, in her, I recognize another broken soul, just like me?

“I showed her a picture of Daisy. She can’t wait to meet her.”

Victoria nods. “A good ice breaker. Dogs have a way of making connections humans can’t, especially with kids.”

The conversation turns away from me and the unexpected guests I’ve foisted on my family and had them so warmly accept. We may have a lot of faults and, at times, have questionable morals to get what we want, but this… this open arms to offer our protection to a person in need is what we do best.

Even surrounded by the people I love most in the world, my mind wanders upstairs. To her. The woman who should feel like a complication but doesn’t.

“Go.” Victoria nudges my arm with her elbow. “Check on them. You’re twitching like a watchdog.”

I press a hand to my chest. “Lies. I’m shocked at you, Victoria. I thought you loved me.”

“Sure. Whatever.” She rolls her eyes, then grins.

“I’m with Victoria,” Nicholas pipes up. Color me shocked that he’s taking Victoria’s side. “You’re fidgeting like you just discovered some twat’s put itching powder down your trousers.”

“See, that was almost funny. You were right there. So close.” I rise from the sofa. “Don’t get any fucking ideas about taking my role as the funny one in this family.”

Their laughter follows me from Dad’s suite. By the time I reach the staircase, it’s faded. Oakleigh’s quiet this time of day, the kind of stillness that carries every sound. The plush carpeting on the stairs dulls the thud of my rapid footsteps, each one bringing me closer to Rebecca and Isla. An invisible twine reeling me in, like a fish caught on a hook.

I’m checking they’re settled and don’t need anything, that’s all. It’s what any good host should do. As I approach the door, a sound cuts through the silence. A piercing, high-pitched scream, followed by another smaller one. A choked panic that wallops me in the ribs.

I rap once on the door, then enter without waiting for permission. I’ll apologize later. The door to Rebecca’s bedroom is wide open, and she’s kneeling beside Isla’s bed, stroking her hair. The little girl’s bolt upright, tears rolling down her face, hands fisted in the Paw Patrol quilt I had specially bought for her the second Rebecca agreed to come to Oakleigh.

“It’s okay, Isla. Mama’s here. I’m right here.”

“What’s wrong?”

Rebecca looks up at me, face wretched. “She woke up, and I wasn’t here. I can’t calm her.”

“Can I come closer?”

Her expression falters, like she doesn’t quite know what to do with kindness or someone asking for consent. “Please.”

I edge a bit nearer while still keeping my distance so I don’t spook Isla. “Hey, sweetheart.” I pick up her bear from the floor. “Here you go.”

She reaches out and takes him from me, hugging him to her chest as her sobs quieten.

Rebecca bites her lip. “I should have seen this coming. I shouldn’t have left her, even to sit in the other room.”

“Hey.” I sit on the floor and cross my legs. “You’re doing great. Both of you.” I turn my attention to Isla. “I saw Daisy before. She can’t wait to meet you.”

Her trembling eases a fraction.

“You’ll like that, won’t you, Isla?” Rebecca rubs circles on her daughter’s back.

I get a lump in my throat just watching the way she is with this kid. A memory worms into my mind. Me in bed, sick with the flu, and Mum doing to me exactly what Rebecca is doing to Isla. That quiet comfort mothers seem to master without trying.

Isla nods, then crawls toward her. Rebecca gets up and sits on the edge of the mattress, lifting Isla into her lap. I exhale, every muscle in my body unclenching. Isla sucks her thumb as her mother rocks her.

Haunted eyes travel to me. “Thank you. I’m sorry we disturbed you.”

“No apologies. Call me anytime, day or night.”

She nods, nose buried in her daughter’s curly brown hair.