Devil's Redemption (Devil's Pawn Duet 2)

I swallow the last of the whiskey, a fresh rage burning from the inside. I walk out of the bedroom and into the dark hallway. I need to hit something. But almost at exactly the same moment my bedroom door opens at the end of the hall and Isabelle comes rushing out. She goes immediately to the banister like she’s running from something. I rush to her.

“Isabelle?” I say, hearing her heavy breaths. I’m not sure she hears me. “Isabelle,” I repeat when I get to her, taking hold of her arms. “What is it? What happened?”

She blinks. Looks up at me, then around herself. She looks like a ghost in this shadowy corridor in the long white night dress she’s wearing. I see her little toes with their pink polish peeking out from beneath the hem. I assume her brother’s t-shirt is in the wash or she’d be wearing that.

She takes a deep breath in, calming a little.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

She nods. When I let go of her, she wipes at her forehead, and I see the beads of sweat at her hairline.

“The dream?”

“Yeah.” She takes another deep breath in then out. I wonder if she’s learned to do that to calm herself down. To get herself under control. She looks up at me.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” I ask carefully.

She shakes her head. “What are you doing out here?” she asks, changing the subject.

I glance down the hall to Angelique’s room. “I changed my mind,” I tell Isabelle.

“What do you mean you changed your mind?” she asks, following my gaze. She touches my face, brushes my hair back from my forehead.

“I’m going to kill that woman.”

“No, you’re not. You’re tired. I’m tired. Come to bed.”

“I don’t know what damage she’s done. Right under my nose.”

“Jericho, stop.”

I look down at her, her soft face, long hair loose down her back. She looks like an angel. An angel for a devil.

“I’m glad Angelique has you,” I tell her, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “You’re good for her.”

“So are you.”

“I let it happen, Isabelle.”

“I was here too, remember. I let it happen too. But it’s over now and we just have to show her what a wonderful little girl she is. How loved she is. How kind and good. That’s all we can do.”

I nod although I’m still thinking about how I’m going to murder the old bag. “I’ll take you to bed,” I tell her, taking her hand to walk her back into the bedroom. I draw the blankets back for her. She sits on the edge of the bed and smooths out the pillow.

“Stay with me,” she says, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers.

“I won’t sleep tonight,” I tell her.

“Please.” There’s a strange expression on her face. She looks at our hands together on her lap, then at me. “The dreams get worse now.”

I study her. “The anniversary is coming up.” The night of the break-in. The anniversary of her brother’s murder.

When I look at her what I see is a girl who needs someone to take care of her. A girl who needs a guardian angel. I’m no angel but I’ll have to do.

“It’s a pattern that doesn’t seem to change.”

“Lie down,” I tell her and stand to strip off my clothes. She does as I say and a moment later, I slip into the bed to hold her. She lays her head against my chest.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Not really. I mean, the man who did it is behind bars. He was caught. Justice is being served. But Christian’s still dead, you know?”

I hug her closer when I hear her sniffle. “I know, sweetheart. I wish I could bring him back for you. We’ll go to the cemetery on the day if you like.”

She lifts her head to look at me. “Yes. I’d like that. I usually go and spend a little time there with him. I didn’t think you’d let me.”

“I’m not an ogre, Isabelle.”

“I know that.” She rests her head again. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I am anyway.” It’s quiet for a long minute before she speaks. “Do you have dreams? Near the anniversary of Kimberly’s death?”

“The day Kimberly was killed was the day Angelique was born. I’ve always tried to keep those two things separate. Try to give Angelique that day. Make it happy for her.”

“You’re a good father, Jericho St. James.”

“That’s debatable.”

“You know what Ivy called you when you let Elena lead you to that window seat to read?”

I look down at her. She’s got her head tilted up to see me. “What?”

“A big teddy bear.”

I smile at that. “A bear, yes.”

She smiles too and climbs up on her knees to straddle me.

I look up at her, watch her draw the nightdress off over her head, her hair cascading down her bare shoulders like a waterfall. She’s completely naked underneath. I reach out to run my hand over the soft strands and let my gaze wander over her breasts, cradling one, brushing my thumb over her nipple before I cup the back of her head and bring her face to mine to kiss her.