Midnight Sins (54 page)

back at him curiously. “Then what do you want?”

“Did she tell you about the phone calls she was

getting?”

Had she told Eddy?
“The sheriff did,” Rafe

informed the other man. “Cami hadn’t mentioned the

full extent of it.”

Eddy’s shoulders sagged a little as he rubbed at

the back of his neck in irritation. “Likely he heard it

from the same place I did: Jack Townsend?”

Rafe nodded.

Eddy shook his head at the response or

whatever thought Rafe could see darkening his gaze.

“Her aunt just got off the phone with her father,”

Eddy told them then. “Normally, this ain’t no business

but Flannigans’, but I saw her face, and her daddy did

nothing to keep his voice low enough that it didn’t

carry on the phone.” He quickly went through the

conversation, ending with the final insult to Cami when

Mark had called her Callahan trash.

Rafe could feel the anger building inside him

now.

“What the hell happened to him?” he sighed.

“Mark Flannigan was a good man once.”

Eddy snorted at that. “No, my brother, unlike me,

likes to hide his faults and appear perfect in public.

Me, now this is what you have.” He held his arms out

to his sides as anger filled his voice. “You’re stuck

with me exactly how I am. Mark, he likes to have all

those pretty words said about him; he always did. And

don’t get me wrong; he loved Jaymi something fierce.

Her death killed a part of him, I think. But Mark was

never loving with Cami, Rafe. He was never a father

to her. He resented her birth and he resented every

time he had to balance buying for her with buying for

Jaymi. Every time Jaymi had to share something, or

couldn’t have something, he blamed Cami’s birth. The

day of Jaymi’s funeral he stated it was unfair that his

Jaymi was gone, that she had suffered. If one of them

had to die like that—” Eddy seemed to shudder as he

blinked back a sudden moisture in his eyes. “He said

it should have been Cami.” Eddy lifted his gaze as

Rafe fought to hide the horror that a father could ever

say or do anything so atrocious. “And she overheard

him.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Like I said,

this should stay Flannigan business.” He glared at

Rafe as though it were his fault the story was coming

out. “But that girl has enough on her shoulders right

now; hearing her daddy call her trash wasn’t

something she needed. One of these days, she’s

going to accept to her soul that she doesn’t have a

daddy, and when she does, if you’re there—” He

broke off as though uncomfortable.

“There’s no if about it,” Rafe assured him. “I’ll be

there, and I’ll take care of her.”

Eddy nodded sharply.

“Tell me something, Eddy. All these years you’ve

poked and prodded and sliced at us with that smartassed

mouth of yours, and not even for a minute did

you believe we hurt Jaymi. Why did you do it?”

“Who says I didn’t?” Eddy frowned, his gaze

fierce and confrontational as he stared back at them.

“Because you would have never told me any of

that if you thought for a moment one of us hurt her

sister,” Rafe snarled back at, Eddy, his voice low but

the fury raging in it loud and clear.

“And I would have never treated you any different

even if your names hadn’t come up in her death.”

Eddy was in Rafe’s face, glaring, his entire demeanor

one of defensive anger. “You were arrogant little shits

as kids who slapped away every helping hand

extended to you. You only slap my hand once,

Callahan. And count yourself lucky, because of that

girl in there.” Eddy’s finger stabbed toward the

hospital room door. “Because of that girl, you’re

getting another chance. See if you can be

appreciative this time.”

The man had lost his mind. “When did you ever

extend a hand to any of us?” Rafe bit out in disbelief.

“You stood with the rest of this county every damned

time they wanted to accuse us of something.”

“And you made it so damned easy, didn’t you?”

Eddy settled back on his heels with a tough, mocking

smile. Like a banty rooster standing in challenge. “You

little shits. You were ten.” He looked at Rafe. “Twelve.”

His gaze met Logan’s. “And thirteen.” He inclined his

head to Crowe. “And that damned chip on your

shoulder was bigger than each of you were. I offered

you a ride to school one morning.” He stared at Rafe

expectantly, his look withering.

It was Crowe who nodded slowly. “It was snowing

and damned cold,” he murmured, his golden-brown

eyes sharp, intent. “You were driving that beat-up old

four-wheel drive of your brother’s.”

And Rafe remembered it then.

“You saw me, not Mark,” Eddy growled, his gaze

suddenly brooding rather than confrontational.

Crowe shook his head. “I saw Mark Flannigan,

and I saw the day before as he came around that

curve you drove around that morning. He came

around it so fast that if Logan hadn’t jumped for the

ditch he would have run him over. And he didn’t even

stop to make sure he was okay.”

“That was the winter after our parents died,”

Logan said quietly. “I don’t remember much of that

year. Except that lawyer Rafe’s uncle got us to keep

the Raffertys and the Corbins from stealing the

inheritances our mothers left us.”

For a second, abject regret filled Eddy’s eyes.

Remorse and shame flashed in his gaze before he

hurriedly jerked his eyes away. When he turned back,

it was with a sense of resignation and acceptance,

though the remorse was still a heavy presence in his

expression.

Eddy backed down. “Hell, I’m who I am,” he

stated, obviously making the connection that what he

had seen as childish arrogance had been lingering

shock and grief. “An asshole on a good day, but I’m

not stupid.” He turned to Rafe. “Jaymi and Cami both

have defended you, against everything and everyone.

When you were arrested for Jaymi’s murder, Cami

just about went crazy. She swore every day you didn’t

do it. She would sit up at night forming arguments for

your lawyer, she said.” He shook his head and sighed

heavily. “God help me if I’m wrong.” He turned his

head, his gaze tormented now. “But that’s mine and

Ella’s girl. We’ve done what we can to teach her to be

smart, and to know her own mind. And she’s damned

certain you’re a good man. And I’m damned certain I

know every crime you’ve been accused of you weren’t

anywhere around when it happened, except Jaymi’s

death. And she wasn’t the only innocent young woman

that died that summer.”

It didn’t make up for the years of the man’s

confrontational insults and jeering attitude. But one

thing Rafe could say in Eddy’s defense: he was one

of the few who hadn’t called the cousins rapists and

murderers to their faces, or behind their backs as far

as Rafe knew.

Eddy was mocking, snide, sarcastic, and those

were his good days, but he wasn’t cruel, and he had

never gone out of his way to be mocking, snide, and

sarcastic either. It was simply what you found when

you found Eddy.

The sound of the door opening drew all their

attention, and Rafe had to force back a growl of fury at

the timid, cautious pace of each step and the proof

that the blows to Cami’s body hadn’t been made as a

warning. The attack had been meant to be deadly.

“Get a wheelchair!” he snapped to Logan,

turning, only to see Crowe jerking one from the

nurses’ station and wheeling it to her.

“Sit, baby.” It was an order, cloaked in silk, she

thought as she hid a smile and sat down gingerly in

the chair.

The bruise on her hip from stumbling on the stairs

was actually the worst of the it. Well, except for the

bruise the doctor said her skull might have.

It wasn’t so bruised that she wasn’t well aware of

the fact that Rafe was in command mode.

Which was really rather amusing. Why bother to

hide it now with that dark, husky male tenderness? It

was like throwing a tablecloth over the elephant in the

living room, she thought, struggling not to grin.

“I see that grin tugging at your lips,” he told her as

he moved behind her and leaned close, his lips at her

ear. “What’s so funny?”

She wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole.

“So much for saving you from any more trouble,”

she sighed instead. “I was hoping to avoid this for

you, Rafe.”

“Trying to protect me, were you?” he asked as he

knelt beside the chair, reached up, and brushed her

hair back from her cheek.

Cami was tempted to close her eyes at the

stroke of pleasure against her flesh, the warmth and

calloused rasp of his fingertips against her skin.

“Maybe I was trying to protect us both.”

“Cami, I’ll be at the house this evening with your

prescriptions and to check you out.” Ella moved from

the room, her voice brisk and no-nonsense, her

expression fierce as she moved in front of Cami.

Ella was all but glaring at Rafe as he came to his

feet. “I
will
be keeping a check on her, Rafe Callahan.”

Cami watched her aunt in confusion. She had

never known her aunt and uncle to be so protective.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t particularly true. Since her

parents’ move to Aspen four years ago, Cami’s aunt

and uncle had seemed to take more of an interest by

the month in her.

“I understand, Aunt Ella,” she promised.

Ella’s gaze flicked to Rafe. “You take care of her,

or you’ll deal with me and Eddy, young man.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded. “We should go now.

I’d like to get her home and get her settled in.”

Ella leaned down, hugged her gently. “Call me if

you need me,” she whispered.

“I will. I promise.”

As Ella moved back, Cami’s uncle took her

place. He touched the side of her gently, a facsimile

of his normal firm grip, and kissed the top of her head.

“I’ll be by with Ella,” he promised. “Just let me know if

you need me.”

“I’m going to be fine. You two act like I’m going

away forever or something,” she chided them both

softly. They invited her to dinner, to the movies, to their

Sunday drives when they were both off work together.

And it was something Cami realized she sometimes

forgot.

She wasn’t totally alone; she never had been.

She had always had Eddy and Ella.

But they weren’t her parents; they had their own

family. Cami always felt on the outside looking in, and