“Then you told her,” Cami accused him, feeling her chest tighten in pain and anger at the thought of what Mark would have said or could have done to torment her mother. “Tell me, Mark, don’t you ever get tired of punishing Mother for having me, and me for living when Jaymi didn’t?”
His expression darkened further. “I forgave her for giving birth to you,” he informed her. “But no, Cami, after this.” He nodded toward Rafe. “After this, I’ll never forgive you for living. Jaymi wouldn’t have betrayed you this way. She sure as hell would have never slept with the man who killed you.”
“I would hope not.” Cami shrugged. “You should leave now. If you really believe Rafe and his cousins are murderers, then it’s hard telling how they’ll react if you continue to stand here and throw their crimes in their faces.”
She glanced at Rafe. The smile he gave her father was all teeth. “Yeah, only God knows how much fun we could have with that one,” Rafe snorted.
“Leave the key before you go, Mark.” It should have hurt. It should have broken her heart a thousand times over, but all she felt was regret.
He could have been a father to her.
He had been Jaymi’s father. He had loved Jaymi with a father’s devotion that Cami had envied.
A devotion she’d prayed for just a bit of. An ounce of. Hell, she would have settled for Mark to simply tolerate her.
The smile that curved his lips was one that echoed with relish. She knew that whatever was coming, he expected to cut her to the bone.
“Your mother will never know I told you the truth,” he told Cami confidently. “She’ll never know I finally found the chance to tell you how thankful I am that you’re not my child.”
Shouldn’t she be shocked?
Cami stared back at him as Rafe cursed under his breath and moved to her. His arm went around her as he moved behind her, drawing her against him and providing a warmth, a security, she’d never had before. Facing Mark had never been easy. It had never been comfortable. But he’d never been so deliberately cruel either.
It wasn’t shock that filled her, though, and it wasn’t pain.
“I think I’ve known that for a very long time,” she told him softly. “If you meant to hurt me, Mark, then you haven’t succeeded.”
That was exactly what he had expected.
He glowered back at her and Rafe. “You’ll pay for this,” Mark finally snapped. “You’ll pay, Cami, when he kills you. When he tortures and rapes you—”
“And if you didn’t notice the fact he was in my bed when you so rudely barged in, then you’d realize he didn’t have to rape me,” she retorted. “No more than he would have had to rape Jaymi. Stop walking the Corbins’ line, Mark, and think for yourself for a change. Jaymi tried to tell you he and his cousins weren’t involved in any wrongdoings. But like everyone else, it’s much easier to please James Corbin than it is to think for yourself, isn’t it.”
“Cami,” Rafe said her name softly. “Go get ready, sweetheart. We have things to do today, remember?”
No, that wasn’t what she remembered.
He’d told her last night they had things to clear up, and that was far different.
“I’m finished with the little tramp—”
Before Cami could process the fact that Rafe had moved, he had done just that.
His hand was wrapped around Mark’s throat, holding him pinned to the wall he had thrown him into.
“Leave,” Rafe said softly.
Anything else he said Cami missed while waiting for her brain to kick into gear once again.
She rushed to the two men, and her fingers curled around the arm that bulged with strength as he drew on that power to keep his fingers wrapped around Mark’s throat.
“That’s enough,” she said softly. “I really don’t want to have to deal with Archer later, Rafe. And you know Mark; he would definitely file a complaint if you leave so much as a single bruise.”
“Oh, he won’t be bruised,” Rafe promised her, though he released Mark slowly. “But I bet you he remembers how little I like hearing that trash rolling out of his mouth to you.”
“And I’m sure he really won’t care once he gets away from you,” she told him before turning her gaze back to the man who had thought he could destroy her.
“Who was my father?” she asked Mark.
“Dead.” He seemed to relish the word. “The bastard was some cop in Denver when she left me one summer. She never made that mistake again. Again,” he reminded Cami.
“Did you kill him?”
Mark chuckled at the question. “I only wish I’d had the chance. A drug dealer and his tramp did that for me when he thought he could poke his nose in their business. His stupidity got him killed.”
If Mark could have set it up, then he would have, Cami thought.
She could see it in his eyes, in the hatred and regret that filled his expression.
“I’m going to shower and dress,” she only partially lied. She’d showered the night before; she only intended to dress and face whatever issues Rafe thought they should iron out. Or clear up. He’d said they had things to clear up, and she had a feeling she knew exactly what a few of those things were. The fact that she’d kept secrets from him, that she hadn’t contacted him when she needed him.
Turning her back on Mark, she moved to the dresser, collected her clothing, then moved into the bathroom.
Whatever Mark had thought he would accomplish by attempting to ambush her, he hadn’t quite managed it. Had it been ten years before, even five, then he could have shattered her with that knowledge.
Perhaps a part of her had already accepted, over the years, that no father could be as cruel as he had been over the years. He hadn’t laid a hand on her, but there were times that words could hurt much worse than a fist.
Moving into the bathroom, she wondered at how easily Mark had slipped in, though. He’d obviously been watching her, waiting, stalking her.
At this point, she didn’t give a damn what Rafe said to Mark. She was beginning to wonder if she would even care what Rafe did to him. Mark had made her mother’s life hell, and Cami knew it. A part of her acknowledged that he was the reason her mother had turned to the Valium and the wine. He was the reason she had closed herself off, even from the child she’d conceived, likely with a man who had loved her.
Cami dressed quickly, unwilling to leave Rafe with Mark long enough to actually hurt him. But when she stepped out into the bedroom, it was to find Rafe sitting in the large easy chair, lounging back, as he waited patiently for her.
His expression was slightly mocking, knowing.
“You know, he didn’t come through the front door,” Rafe told her. “There are several webcams scattered through the house now. He came through the basement window, just as your attacker did.”
Cami paused and stared back at Rafe, confused at the statement.
“But you secured that window.” And she knew he and his cousins would have done the job right.
“Yes, we did,” he agreed. “And from what I saw on the camera, he’s damned good at picking a lock, Cami.”
She rubbed at her temple, uncertain what to make of that. “He wasn’t the one that attacked me.” Was he?
If he had been, then that meant he had also been the one behind Jaymi’s death.
Cami shook her head. “He would have never hurt Jaymi. Whoever tried to hurt me was behind Thomas Jones attacking her as well. Mark was devoted to her.”
“But she was sleeping with me,” Rafe pointed out.
Cami shook her head again. “He truly loved her, Rafe. He loved her, and he loved Mother, despite any infidelity she may have committed. It was me he hated. It was me he made pay for it; that way he could could forgive her.”