The devil inside, p.1
The Devil Inside, page 1
The Devil Inside
Leisl Leighton
www.romance.com.au
The Devil Inside
Leisl Leighton
Dark secrets. A mysterious past. And an unforgettable passion.
After months in a coma, music promoter Melissa Linklater wakes up to a world she doesn’t remember. She’s shocked to discover she’s married—to Phil Paris, the intensely handsome drummer of world-famous band The Sidhe—and has a baby daughter. She has lost the memory of the last eight years of her life. Phil, their baby and his bandmates are all strangers.
Phil is devastated that Mel can’t remember her years with him. He needs her to remember—because he is nothing without his wife. Fame and wealth, even his music, no longer bring him joy. The only things that matter are Mel and their baby. He throws all he is into helping Mel remember, but instead of recovering memories of them, she starts to remember a secret past and a web of lies that threaten to destroy everything she knew about herself.
Someone else is also after those secrets. As her mysterious stalker escalates from anonymous phone calls to break-ins and physical threats, the police and her doctors don’t believe her—but Phil does. While she still can’t remember anything about her life with him, she does feel things for him—passionate, needful things that make her want to trust him with her darkest secrets. Will sharing those secrets make them closer or bring more danger to their door?
About the author
LEISL is a tall redhead with an overly large imagination. As a child, she identified strongly with Anne of Green Gables. A voracious reader and a born performer, it came as no surprise to anyone when she did a double major in English Literature and Drama for her BA, then went on to a career as an actor, singer and dancer, as well as scriptwriter, stage manager and musical director for cabaret and theatre restaurants (one of which she co-owned.)
After starting a family, Leisl stopped performing and instead began writing the stories that had been plaguing her dreams. Leisl’s stories have won and placed in many competitions in Australia and the US, include the RUBY, STALI, Golden Opportunities, Heart of the West, Linda Howard Award of Excellence, Touch of Magic and many others.
Leisl lives in the leafy suburbs of Melbourne with her two beautiful boys, lovely hubby and overly spunky pets, Skye and Ripley. She loves to spend time with family and friends, is addicted to anything sci-fi, fantasy and paranormal (books, TV shows, movies—bring them on!) and owns ALL the superhero movies. She sometimes sings in a choir, has worked as a swim teacher, loves to ski, can talk the hind leg off a donkey and was President of Romance Writers of Australia from 2014 to 2017.
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Acknowledgements
This book was born out of my love for the first in the series, Need You Tonight. I fell in love with the entire band in that book and just had to write each of their stories. It took a while to flesh Mel and Phil’s story out in the way I wanted, but with the help of my agent, Alex Adsett, I pulled it all together and am super thrilled by the way it turned out. As I say in my dedication, thank you so much Alex. This book wouldn’t be here if not for you.
There are other people to thank as well because while this author business is a lonely one, it can’t be done unless you are surrounded by people who support you.
To my mum and dad, Kerrie and Jim, who supported my own music and performance dreams for so many years, fuelling the love and passion that went into this world. Now that support is behind me every step of the way with my writing endeavours. I could not have done this without you. I love you both.
Of course, my hubby, Mark, and my two beautiful boys, Jacob and Nathaniel, are always there for me, cheering me on and supporting me even in those times when my head is more in my stories than in reality. Thanks for putting up with the crazy. I couldn’t do this without you either and love you all.
Aside from great family and friends, a writer needs a coven of writing peeps all their own. Thanks to my friends in my writing groups for encouraging me and giving me the strength to push on through all the highs and lows of doing this crazy writing thing—Marnie, Anita, Samantha, Helen, Chris, Laura and Frana. I couldn’t have gotten here without you.
Thoughts and thanks also to my bestie, Helen, and to the first writing friend I ever had, Liz. You are both gone but never forgotten and a part of you will always live on in my stories.
And a big shout out to all my friends in Romance Writers of Australia—you are inspiration and mentor rolled into a big ball of supportive writerly love. Thank you.
Thank you once again to my amazing editor, Brooke Halliwell—I was so thrilled we got to work on the second book in the series like we did the first. Working with you is always such a joy.
Finally to everyone at Escape, especially Rachael, Johanna and Suzanne. Your support and backing on this novel is fully appreciated. Eternal thanks.
To agent extraordinaire, Alex Adsett. This book would not have been finished or have its day in the sun without you championing it.
Thank you. You are a superstar!
Contents
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 1
Glass tinkled around Melissa. Metal groaned.
Her head spun even though the car had come to a stop.
The scent of dirt and grass was heavy around her. There was a copper taste in her mouth and something warm and sticky ran across her face from her nose and ears. Her head hurt—everything hurt—but she forced her eyes open.
The world was upside down.
Oh god.
The baby!
She tried to move her arms to touch her stomach but couldn’t. They hung over her head, limp and too heavy to move. She tried to look around for help but the wave of pain and nausea almost made her pass out.
More glass tinkled. The car groaned. She could smell petrol. No, no, please. This couldn’t be the end. She couldn’t lose the baby. She couldn’t leave Phil.
Phil!
A sob ripped from her throat. They were supposed to have forever. That promise had meant more than she’d ever let on; more than she’d ever understood. She’d already lost so much … so much—
Pain spiked through her head as a memory flashed into her mind.
Mama and Papa standing over her, their expressions oddly blank as they intoned, ‘Forget, kukla. Forget.’
Forget? Forget what? She couldn’t remember. But she knew it was something painful. A loss. A horrible, terrifying loss.
Her mind slid sideways and her vision went dark as nausea rose up in a sick, thickening wave.
Was she dying? She couldn’t die. Not now. Not when she was about to get everything she’d ever wanted. Phil and … She was supposed to be a mother. The baby deserved the best life with parents who loved her so much it hurt. Like the love she’d missed out on with her mamochka and papochka.
She groaned as the words stabbed through her mind. Mamochka? Papochka? Why did the sound of them make her heart squeeze even worse than when Mama and Papa had died in that car crash, gone in flames before anyone could help?
Flames. Hot. So hot. Smoke choking her as she was picked up, carried away, screaming; screaming.
But that wasn’t right. She hadn’t been there when Mama and Papa had died.
An image lurched into her mind of a house in flames swallowed in the distance by the dark. Her mind slid painfully away from the image and she almost threw up.
Oh god. Oh god. It hurt.
The sound of laughing. Was she going insane? Who would be laughing? Was it another memory?
She braced for the pain, for the nausea, but nothing came.
The laughing came closer alongside the sound of feet pounding on the scarred turf.
A shadowy figure, seen through the smashed windscreen, ran towards her. Were they here to help? But why were they laughing? Could it be the madman who’d driven her off the road?
She had to get out of here. Had to move. But she couldn’t. Her head was filled with so much pain. Darkness edged her vision. She needed help. But there was no-one. No-one.
She swallowed convulsively, winced against the pain. Her neck was sore, her throat swollen and bruised, maybe worse. Blood filled her mouth. Something bad had happened to her neck. Had she broken it? Was that why she couldn’t move? Why it was so hard to breathe?
Blackness rose up around her.
She jerked to consciousness as something touched her face, her n
Why would anyone do that?
He sounded so angry, yet his fingers as they brushed her hair aside were so gentle. She still couldn’t see who it was. She couldn’t help the groaning sound that squeezed in her throat. Oh god. Oh god. Was this it?
No. She didn’t want to leave Phil. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want her precious baby to die.
‘You’re alive,’ he muttered, his voice oddly familiar and yet she couldn’t grasp onto why. Whoever he was, he sounded relieved. Maybe he wasn’t going to kill her. Maybe he would help. She tried to speak again but all she could do was make that squeezed noise, like a groan.
‘What am I going to do? What am I going to do? It’s a sin. I know it’s a sin.’ She almost flinched as he hit the car. The metal groaned and more glass tinkled down, scratching against her hands. Then suddenly he shouted, ‘A phone!’ and squeezed through the window, his fingers brushing against hers as he grabbed the phone she’d been on when he’d run her off the road.
‘Send an ambulance. There’s been an accident,’ he said, his voice suddenly lower, rougher. ‘Send an ambulance.’
She almost opened her eyes, but lifting her lids took more effort than she had to give.
His words rumbled around her as he gave the location, ended the call then fussed around outside the window, muttering about cleaning the phone of his prints, of needing to get out of here before they came.
He leaned back in the window and the car shifted, the seatbelt pushing against her chest, her throat—a cutting, tearing pain. She wanted to scream but even that was beyond her now. Her mind slid towards the oblivion of unconsciousness, but she pushed back against it. She couldn’t pass out. Couldn’t. If she did, she was so afraid she might never wake up. Staying conscious was important. Wasn’t that what every doctor show she’d ever watched always said?
She held onto consciousness with every bit of strength she had in her. But it hurt. It hurt so bad. Then everything arrowed in on the sensation of his lips next to her ear, his breath making her shudder as he said, ‘Your husband should have looked after you, Melissa.’
What? He knew her? Knew Phil?
‘He should have never left your side. If he had, this would never have happened. But don’t worry, precious mother, I will make him pay.’
What? No. She wanted to scream at him, to plead for him not to hurt her love, but she couldn’t make the thoughts do more than swirl in panic in her mind.
‘I will take care of your husband after I’ve taken care of Alexia and Cat and Dae. I promise you, I will make them all pay.’ He stroked the side of her face. Then he was gone, the thump of his feet fading as he ran back across the field.
Melissa wanted to scream, to run after him, to fight him, to stop him. He was going to hurt Phil. He was going to kill the only person who had ever loved her openly and honestly with no secrets, no pain.
The words scrambled around in her head. Secrets and pain. Pain and secrets. She couldn’t take anymore. Not again. Never again.
Her heart raced and her head spun around the words, over and over as darkness tightened on every side, closing in, closing in. No, no, she hated the dark. But it was no use. The yawning darkness swallowed her whole.
Chapter 2
It was dark. So dark Melissa wasn’t even sure if she had her eyes open or not. ‘Mamochka. Papochka. Ne ukhodi. Ne ukhodi.’ Mama, Papa, don’t go!
They were kissing her, tears in their eyes. Not Mama and Papa. Mamochka and Papochka. They were here. They’d come back to find her. Hadn’t they?
Angry noises. Shouting. Running. Blood. Fire.
Her thoughts swirled in the blackness, slippery and uncertain. Where was she? She couldn’t remember.
‘Mel? Mel, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand.’
She frowned, wanted to answer, but everything was too heavy, too hard. The light behind her closed eyelids wouldn’t stay. The dark rose again and took her down …
Memories switched and swirled, another one flashing to the fore. She shifted. Heart racing. No. No. Something was wrong.
Screaming.
A door crashed in.
Gentle arms picked her up. Panicked breath against her ear. A hand at the back of her head, pressing her face into a soft, scented neck—roses and lavender and something else warm and inviting. She buried her nose into that soft scent, breathing it deeply, letting it push away the fear.
Hands pushed at her, urging her into the secret hidey-hole in the wall, into the dark. She didn’t want to go. She protested. Began to cry. ‘Shh. Shh, solnyshkuh.’ The hands kept pushing, pushing her further into the dark, to where there was a pillow and her blankie and some water and another blanket that felt a little scratchy. ‘Eto igra, solnyshkuh.’
A game? It seemed like a strange game. ‘Eto igra?’ she asked, looking up into the sad blue eyes of the woman who was her everything.
Mamochka ran her hand over Melissa’s head smoothing her hair, pressed her lips—still sticky with red lipstick—to her forehead. The sticky imprint itched a little, but she didn’t wipe it off. It seemed important somehow. More important than any lipstick kiss before it. ‘Mamochka?’ she asked as tears welled in both their eyes.
Mamochka sniffed. Kissed her again and when she sat back, she smiled. ‘Da, solnyshkuh. Eto igra. Pryatki.’ Yes, sunshine, a game. Hide and seek. ‘Vedi sebya tikho, solnyshkuh. Khorosho spryatat’sya. Vykhodit’tol’ko togda, kogda tvoy dyadya I tetya prikhodyat, chtoby nayti tebya.’ Stay quiet, sunshine. Hide well. Come out when your uncle and aunt come to find you.
‘Te ne naydesh’ menya?’ You won’t find me?
‘Ya vsegda naydu tebya, solnishkuh.’ I’ll always find you, sunshine.
Another kiss ...
Melissa was alone in the dark.
Noises pulled at her. Her leg was being lifted and moved, like she was cycling. Was she on a bike?
The sensation faded away again.
Beeping.
Footsteps coming closer, pacing away.
Humming. She knew that tune. She knew …
Darkness parted and light filtered in. Her eyelids fluttered open, eyes seeking the source of that tune.
A man’s face hovered above her—did she know him? Had he been the one humming? His lips moved but she couldn’t hold on to his words.
She faded away. Not back into the dark. She didn’t want to go there again, so she drifted. Memories flew by—blood, fire, someone crying. Nothing to grip onto. Nothing to hold.
But there was. Someone held her hand. She opened her eyes. He was there again. The man from before. She saw him more clearly this time. Was he real? He looked like an elf; chiselled cheekbones, firm jaw, lips full, spikey black hair, gorgeous honey-brown eyes. She blinked. So beautiful.
The elf-man smiled at her, his lips moving, words filtering down to her. ‘There you are, Mel. I knew you could open your eyes. Jerry—go get the doctor, she’s opened her eyes again.’ Warm fingers clasped her hand. She wanted to hold onto them, to stay in this light room with the man who looked like an elf. But darkness crept over her again ...
She didn’t like the dark. And she was tired of this game. But Mamochka had insisted she stay and not give herself away.
Noises.
A door crashing in.
Cries of panic. Denial. More crashing and thumping. Crying. Then a loud bang. The crying stopped.
She started to cry then remembered she had to stay quiet. She had to win the game. Mamochka told her she must. Silence surrounded her and in the dark, she fell asleep …
Her eyelids fluttered. She wanted to open them but the light was too bright. Someone clutched her hand, soft lips pressed against her knuckles, breath warm on her skin. ‘Don’t leave me, Mel. You promised you’d never leave me. Remember? Please wake up. Wake up, my love.’
He sounded so upset. She wanted to comfort him but was already floating away.
Light prickled through the darkness behind her eyelids. She moaned and slowly opened her eyes to stare at the white ceiling. Something beeped—constant, regular. To her left. She rolled her head—god, it hurt.
