Page 98 of The Devil's Torment

The last ten days have sped by, and the morning of Victoria’s surgery arrives long before I’m ready. A decade could’ve passed, and Istillwouldn’t be ready. I’ve grilled the surgeon on several occasions, hammering at him until he’s answered every question to my satisfaction, but even knowledge hasn’t helped calm my nerves. He can tell me until his last breath that for the donor, this is, in his words, a safe and relatively painless surgery that he’s performed many times before.

His reassurances offer me none.

If things don’t go well, hewilltake his last breath, I’ll make fucking sure of it.

Last night, I tossed and turned, and I know Victoria did, too. As weak winter sunlight breaks through the curtains, I roll onto my side and wrap my arms around her. She clings to me, and without a word passing between us, I know she’s terrified of what’s to come.

She isn’t the only one, but I can’t let her see the extent of the fear eating me up inside. She needs me to be the strong one, the towering support, not just today, but over the coming weeks as she navigates her recovery.

As much as my family wants to support us both, I’ve told them not to come to the hospital today, or come to see us off as though we are going on holiday. It’ll be bad enough having to sit with Victoria’s parents and maintain some level of composure without my clan crowded around me, watching me like a hawk for signs of me losing control.

My relationship with Laura and Phillip has been strained ever since I barred them from coming to Oakleigh, and although I lifted the ban once Victoria made her decision, I can’t say I’m son-in-law of the year in their eyes.

Not that I give a single shit about that. They’re not exactly in-laws of the year, either. Her mother may have tried to make amends, but it’ll take more than a few platitudes and “we love yous,” for them to ingratiate themselves with me.

Penny yips from her bed at the foot of ours. I toss back the covers and pick the little fluffball up before handing her to Victoria, who cradles her close to her chest and kisses the top of her head.

“You’ll miss Mumma, won’t you, pups? But don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

My chest tightens, and I have to look away before Victoria sees the anxiety plastered all over my face. I’ve never wished my life away before, but I’d give anything for the next few days to be over and for my wife to be back at home with me where she belongs.

In solidarity with Victoria, who’s nil by mouth, I skip breakfast. Not sure I could keep it down anyway. The constant churning in my stomach won’t quit, but as Sol takes Victoria’s bag to the car, I force a confident smile and slide my arm around her shoulders.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

I catch Christian standing in the window. He raises a hand, and I nod in acknowledgment. As if worrying about Victoria isn’t taking every ounce of brainpower, I’m concerned about my brother, now, too. He hasn’t been himself since the building collapse, and having the Health and Safety Executive crawling over him every five minutes isn’t helpful, either. When fatalities are involved, even our membership of The Consortium doesn’t give us a free pass to an easy ride. Uncle George has done what he can to blunt the rough edges, but it’s a process, and unfortunately for Christian, he has to go through it. They won’t bring charges—they wouldn’t dare—but knowing that still doesn’t make it easy for him.

I’ve tried to support him as much as I can, and Xan has, too, but Christian has the De Vil stubborn gene. He wants to deal with it himself.

“My business, my responsibility” is his mantra every time he’s offered help.

Victoria grows paler the closer we get to the hospital, but she squares her shoulders and takes several deep breaths, shooting me the odd wavering smile. I hate how powerless I am to help her. If I had my way, I’d redirect Sol to the airport and whisk her away somewhere warm. Somewhere I could keep her safe.

Elizabeth had better spend the rest of her days licking her sister’s shoes. Since she reappeared in our lives, we’ve barely exchanged a word, mainly because I don’t trust myself around her. Every time I hear her voice, I’m engulfed by this urge to put my hands around her throat and strangle her. I don’t have it in me to offer forgiveness, even though Victoria appears to have done so. Guess it’s different for her, but for me, I’ll carry that grudge to my grave.

We reach the hospital a few minutes before ten. As we exit the car, Victoria groans.

“I told you not to come,” she says when Eloise and Briony stride forward.

“Bitch, please,” Eloise says. “We won’t stay, but we at least had to come and do this.”

Both of them wrap their arms around my wife. Stupidly, I’m jealous. I want to be the one comforting her, the one she turns to for support. I hover a few feet away while the group hug continues. After almost a minute, the triangle breaks apart.

“I should go.” Victoria hooks her thumb toward the hospital entrance. “Nicholas will message you when I’m out of surgery, won’t you?”

I nod. “Sure.”

“We’ll be waiting for your text.” There’s another swift hug, and my wife’s two closest friends walk away, glancing several times over their shoulders and waving.

After they vanish around the corner at the end of the street, Victoria takes a deep breath and enters the hospital.

I touch her lower back as she pushes open the door to the waiting room. Her muscles tremble beneath my hand, a sign of her nerves. Laura and Phillip are there, but there’s no sign of Elizabeth. Laura’s complexion is pale and waxy, and Phillip is holding his stomach and pitched slightly forward.

I know the fucking feeling.

“Where’s Beth?” Victoria’s voice quivers, and another violent urge to throw her over my shoulder and take her somewhere no one will ever find us floods through me.

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