Page 84 of The Devil's Torment

“Good God.” My sweet, innocent sister is a master criminal. I can’t take it in.

“Vicky, look at me. Please.”

I can’t look at her. My mind’s swimming. I feel sick, dizzy, disoriented. Scrambling to my feet, I lurch for the door. Beth rushes after me and grabs my arm before I can reach the handle. Andrew, who’s posted himself a foot inside the café, reaches for my other arm.

“Mrs. De Vil. Are you all right?”

“I have to get out of here.” My mouth is dry as the desert, and I lick my lips. “Get the car, Andrew.”

“Vicky, no, please. Hear me out. I’m begging you.”

“I can’t, Beth. I can’t be around you right now.”

“Vic.” Her plaintive voice reaches right into my heart and yanks it out of my chest. “Please, I need your help. It’s urgent.”

At the desperate edge to her tone, I freeze, then slowly pivot. “Help for what?”

Her throat bobs as she swallows. “My kidneys have failed, and without a transplant, I’ll die. For real this time.”

“What?”

The room spins, and I grip a nearby chair to steady myself. It’s too much. It’s all too much. My sister comes back from the dead and tells this fantastical story, and now she’s dying for real. I can’t deal with this. I just can’t.

“Vic.” Beth’s fingers are ice cold as she takes hold of my hand. “The doctors tell me you’re my best bet for a match. Will you do it? Will you give me one of your kidneys?”

ChapterTwenty-Nine

NICHOLAS

What’s it been now since I left Victoria with a woman we thought was dead? Two hours? In that time, I’ve worn out the carpet in my living room with my pacing. My family is as incredulous as I am. Elizabeth is alive. It’s unbelievable. The quiet little mouse who almost became my wife faked her own death.

Why, though? I thrust my hands in my hair, tugging at the roots. A woman who can put her family through what Elizabeth has made hers suffer is nothing more than a manipulative bitch, and I left Victoria with her. What’s she telling my wife? What lies is she filling her head with? I should never have left her alone with someone capable of such subterfuge.

God, where is she? How much longer will this torturous waiting go on?

I’ve pulled out my phone, typed out a message, and then deleted it more than a dozen times. I keep looking at the screen, praying I’ll see a missed call or a text from Victoria, but there’s nothing.

I’m a man of action, yet I’m paralyzed. There’s nothing I can do until my wife returns home with what had better be the full story. If Elizabeth tries to bullshit her sister, I’ll shake her until she rattles, and all her vicious truths spill out.

My phone vibrates on the coffee table where I tossed it a few minutes ago. It isn’t a call, but a text.

My wife: On my way home.

I can’t type a reply fast enough.

Me: That’s it?

Three dots appear. She’s replying. I stare at the phone, willing her to type faster.

My wife: It’s too complicated to type. I’ll be home in thirty minutes. I’ll explain everything then.

Patience never has been my strong suit, and the surge of irritation at having to wait reaffirms that’s still the case. I resume my pacing. Every minute feels like an hour. As the time edges closer to the thirty minutes she promised, I drift over to the window and, sure enough, headlights shine in the distance, a car making its way to the front of the house. It takes all my self-control not to hurtle down the stairs and hit her with rapid-fire questions the second she steps inside the house.

It’s another few minutes before the door to our apartment opens and Victoria enters. She’s so pale, her eyes are sunken, and her shoulders are bowing, as though she’s ready to collapse. Fresh animosity toward Elizabeth sprouts in my chest.

“Hey.” She tosses her handbag onto the table by the entrance and kicks off her shoes, then she just stands there, head hanging low.

“Come here.” I hold out my arms, and she runs into them. The second I close them around her, she bursts into tears. As much as I’m desperate to know what the fuck has gone on, pelting her with questions in this fragile state makes me a bastard, and I refuse to do that to my wife.

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