Page 42 of Savage Obsession

“This is nice,” Julia murmurs, flicking the switch on the kettle.

It’ll do. I start peeling off my clothing. “If you prefer to sleep on the sofa, I won’t object.” In fact, if either of us is to be consigned to the sofa, I guess it should be me. It’s not my first choice, though.

Julia eyes the seating area with little enthusiasm. “I suppose, since we’ve shared a bed the last two night’s…”

My thoughts exactly. I wander through to the bedroom where a rather sumptuous-looking double bed awaits. Our bags have been deposited on the floor at the foot of it, and I waste no time in grabbing my shaving gear. Julia seems more reticent, so I leave her to sort her head out while I make use of the bathroom.

When I return, she’s still perched on the edge of the bed, fully dressed.

“Julia,” I begin.

“We need to talk,” she blurts. “About us.”

I stifle my inner groan. Really? Now?

“I need to know that we’re all right.”

I sit beside her. “In what way?”

“You think I’ve failed, as a mother…”

I’d thought we were past that. “No, I can see that it was… complicated.”

“You’re right,” she barrels on, as though I never spoke. “I let her down when she needed me.”

“Let’s not go over all that again. You did your best, but it’s not easy, on your own.”

“My best wasn’t good enough,” she wails. “I don’t deserve to be a mother.”

Where is all this coming from? “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” I’m no family therapist but I do my best. I venture to slide an arm around her shoulders. “We talked about this, and I can see how things went wrong. Debinbski was a cunning bastard…”

“I should have seen right through him. You did.”

“Yeah, but I’m a cunning bastard, too. It takes one to know one.”

“If we find her?—”

“When we find her,” I correct.

She hesitates, then, “When we find her, what if it happens again? Some other lowlife might target us, and I wouldn’t see them coming.”

“I suspect you would.”

“How do you know that?”

“Instinct. Experience. And you won’t be on your own anymore. I’m going to be in Lily’s life, too.”

She looks up at me. “How would that work? Are you intending to come back to Warsaw?

I chuckle. “Hardly. Too fucking cold for me. We’ll work out the details when the time comes. Right now, our priority is tracking our daughter down.”

She meets my gaze, holds it. “You mean to take her away from me. Don’t you? You want her to live with you on Tenerife.”

I start to deny the charge but hold my tongue. I may be a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. Actually, it would be my preference to have my daughter close. I could keep her safe. She’d be happy, probably. I say none of this, yet. I have a lot to think about.

“She’s mine. Please, don’t take her.”

Tears are streaming across her cheeks. She’s clearly given this prospect more thought than I have and believes I could actually do that, take our daughter from her. On reflection, she might be right. It would make sense.

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