by Lora Leigh
Richard grimaced heavily at her declaration. "You misunderstood that night."
"I didn't misunderstand that damned scar on my hip from your wife's whip," she bit out. "For God's sake, what the hell is this?"
"Look." Annalee raised her hand to still the animosity rising between them all now. But there was no stilling it. Jaci had spent years being angry, years fighting their lies. "We're aware your association with Cameron Falladay and his employer Ian Sinclair halts anything we could do to still your retaliation against us. We've already received our first warnings. I assumed you wanted to discuss the parameters of the truce that would evolve now."
Jaci stared back at them in silence. She scratched at the back of her head, wondering at the niggling warning there, as she gave her head a quick shake.
Something wasn't right here, and it didn't make sense. She had never imagined, not in all these years, that this meeting would be conducted with such civility and rationality. Hell, she wanted to scream and yell and throw things. And they were being nice?
She stared around the room before shaking her head and turning back to the conversation.
"What warnings?" she finally asked.
Annalee smiled then. A soft curve of her lips, not a smirk or a sneer, merely an acknowledgment of Jaci's disbelief.
"As I said, there are certain rules as you move up in society. One of those rules, once your relationship with Cam is cemented, is that your power here has the potential to match our own. There's no hiding that from you, you'll learn it in time. Courtney Sinclair's power already outdistances my own. Richard's position as congressman gives us only a slight edge. Because of this, we're now willing to listen to your demands and put an end to our mutual vendettas. The gossip could hurt both of us if it continues, Jaci, and it could hurt the Falladay twins as well. So let's end this now."
"My demands? Fine. Why? Why did you do it to begin with? What the hell made you think I'd play those games with you?"
Forget the confusion, she'd get the answers first. She wanted to know why she'd had to battle this couple for so many years, and then they'd move on to a few other questions.
Annalee sighed and stared at the floor for a moment before lifting her head and staring back at her.
"That, my dear, was your own fault. If you hadn't belonged to a gigolo and a man known for his ménage lifestyle, then I would have never considered it."
Jaci froze. She could feel her heart beating sluggishly, fear slamming inside her mind. She felt weak, torn, she didn't want to hear what she feared was coming.
"You're lying!" She threw the accusation back at them. "And you have no idea the hell he'll bring down on the two of you for it."
"Cameron Falladay, for all his power in this town, is still a product of his unsavory roots." Richard sighed regretfully. "We do have proof, Jaci. Being a man-whore at age fifteen isn't something to be proud of, but he did rise above it. His sharing with his brother, and your nearly lifelong association with them, led us to an erroneous conclusion that you would be agreeable to our lifestyle as well. We apologize for that."
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Chase stood still outside the study, every bone, every muscle in his body tightening as he heard Richard Roberts' statement. He felt a howl of rage, felt agony sear through his body as that twin bond opened just enough for a glimpse into his brother's soul.
It only added to his own rage, to the pain that sliced through his guts and opened his soul to reveal the raw, aching center of agony.
His gaze jerked to Cam's, where he stood on the other side of the doorway. His brother was staring into the study, his expression frozen, but his eyes enraged. Chase could see the rage, and he could see the grief.
How had he allowed that to happen to his baby brother? Cam had been his responsibility, his brother, all he had left to hold onto in the world at that time. And he had allowed that to happen.
He saw Cam shake his head. A quick little jerk as he flinched, a betraying flicker of raw agony as the truth was revealed to the woman his brother loved more than life.
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"You're lying." Jaci wanted to scream the words, but could barely manage a whisper as she forced the words past her lips. "Cam never sold himself. He would never do anything like that. Not then and not now." For a moment, something like compassion flickered in Richard's eyes, and he turned to his wife.
This wasn't the couple she knew. Cold, hard, all icy distain and superior disgust. They had to be monsters. Pure evil. Only monsters could stand and lie like this with such convincing compassion. They couldn't be real. This had to be a game being played out for the camera.
"No, actually, his aunt was the pimp." Annalee shrugged, sympathy flickering in her eyes as she continued for her husband. "I have it all in the investigative report we had made when you came to work for us. Richard, Margie, and I were very attracted to you, Jaci. We felt you would have fit in with our circle of friends because of the information we found on you, Cameron, and Chase. But once the mistake had been made, we were forced to control any damage it could have caused to Richard's political career and my own place in society."
Jaci needed to sit down, but there was no place to sit, no way she could sit and still stay strong before them. But grief was tearing through her. Cam had fought to hide his past, and these two had known all along. They had known and they had used it to hurt her.
"Jaci." Annalee shook her head gently. "Were we the monsters you believe us to be, then we would have used that information, rather than controlling any retaliation you could make, as we did. We aren't completely unfeeling, simply a bit self-serving, I'm afraid."
"I'm not a fool, Jaci," Richard said then. "Cameron Falladay would have no problem killing a man who threatened his place in the world, or his woman's. We assumed you called this meeting to discuss your demands."
She was in shock. Disbelief and pain were raging through her. This explained so many things, but more than anything it explained Cam's refusal to discuss the pain in his past. Fifteen. Such a vulnerable age anyway, and he had been exploited in one of the worst ways. Exploited and nearly destroyed.
"I didn't call this meeting." She finally shook her head, disbelieving, filled with grief.
Oh, God, Cam. She wanted to rock back and forth in agony. She wanted to race to him, to hold him, to scream in rage that anything so vile could have been done to him.
"What do you mean, you didn't call this meeting?" Annalee straightened and looked to Robert. "We didn't call it."
"No. I called it."
Jaci turned and stared at Moriah in shock. It wasn't Moriah so much that shocked her, as the gun in her hand and the hatred in her eyes as she glared at Jaci.
"Moriah?" Annalee's voice softened strangely, despite the confusion and fear in her voice. There was genuine affection, genuine caring in her tone. "Darling, what are you doing?"
"I called this meeting." Moriah slowly screwed a silencer onto the end of the handgun as Jaci stepped back, shaking her head, fighting to make sense of what was happening. "You see, Annalee, I can't let her tell that nasty Cameron what happened that night. And she will. I know she's going to tell him the moment she leaves here, no matter what you agree to. She told me she would. He might hurt you. I can't let you be hurt."
Jaci's lips parted as she fought to breathe. This couldn't be happening. It didn't make sense. The Robertses had terrified her, brutalized her as a child—hadn't they?
"Moriah?" Jaci fought to believe what she was seeing. Moriah, her face pale, her eyes blazing with madness as she smiled calmly.
"I warned you, Annalee," Richard said then, his voice hardening.
"Yes, you did warn her didn't you?" Moriah cried out then, the weapon turning, centering on Richard.
"You've tried to turn her against me the whole time, didn't you, Richard? The poor little crazy girl. You wanted her to leave me all alone. You didn't want us to be happy."
"For God's sake," Richard muttered, his face
slack now with disbelief. "Put the gun down, Moriah."
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Cam eased himself in position in the doorway behind Moriah. Slipping through the house to the far door hadn't been easy. The apartment was laid out with a series of short hallways, and several crossed each other.
He held his gun at his thigh as he got into position to get a clear sight of the young woman. The psychiatrist's report was right; Moriah Brockheim wasn't completely sane. He could hear it in her voice now.
He couldn't let himself think about the information his brother had heard. Ian and the detective would be in position at the back now, and easing toward the door. He had to take her down before they came in, before they heard as well.
"Moriah, dear, please put the gun down." Annalee's voice was softer, gentler than Jaci could have imagined it would be. "We can discuss this, darling. Jaci is very reasonable, and you know how nice I truly am. Once she sees this, she won't tell a soul. We can convince her."
There was pain and desperation in Annalee's voice, in the sorrow in her face and in her eyes. She truly cared for Moriah. Cared for her. Not as a toy, but as a child, as the little girl Jaci had sometimes glimpsed in the other woman.
"We can?" Moriah whispered hopefully as she turned to Annalee. "Will you tell them, Anna? Will you tell them that I belong with you? Father keeps fighting me. And that stupid psychiatrist won't listen."
"You know I will, sweetheart," Annalee promised, sincerity as thick as the fear in her eyes now, as she held her arms out to Moriah. "Come here, baby. Let Aunt Anna make it all better. We'll go fix chocolate and talk with Jaci about this, shall we?"
Cam let his eyes flicker over the room, and a second before Richard moved, he knew what was coming.
The congressman's muscles bunched and he jumped for the gun.
The soft pop of the gun sent Richard to the floor, his hand clamping over his chest as a glaze of red spilled over his fingers.
Annalee screamed and Moriah turned to Jaci as Cam jumped. He knocked Moriah to the side, grabbed Jaci, and rolled with her, ignoring her cry, pushing her behind the desk as he turned back to the room.
"So protective," Moriah sneered as she regained her footing, turning the gun on him. "You're a gigolo. A man-whore. Your aunt sold your body to dirty old women and you let her. You think I'll let you take Anna from me? You're nasty and brutal and mean. Chase deserves a better brother than you. He always has." She screamed the words, the gun lifting as Cam stared at her in horror.
He had his gun in his hand, staring back at her, seeing the young woman his brother had been so fond of over the years. The woman, so fragile, already broken, her eyes maniacal as her finger tightened on the trigger.
He lowered the gun to shoot to wound. It was a risk. Crazy was fucking crazy, and he knew she would fight to the death to pull that trigger.
As Cam aimed, someone else fired. He watched in shock at the neat, dark little hole in the middle of her forehead, the almost peaceful expression that came over her face before she slumped slowly, gracefully to the carpet beneath her. The pretty white-and-gold dress she wore flowed around her bare legs, her hair feathered over her pale face, and the scent of death and Annalee's quiet sobs filled the air.
Detective Allen was yelling into the radio for backup and the paramedics that were already standing by as he and Ian rushed into the room. The congressman was gasping for breath, and behind Cam Jaci had her forehead against his back. He felt her trembling, a soft sob whispering from her lips as he turned and stared at Chase.
His brother lowered his handgun slowly before turning to Cam, his eyes dark, fury burning hot and bright inside him. And he felt his brother then. Felt that bond tighten as his twin's rage turned on him.
"Your shot went wild, Chase." Detective Allen, portly, breathing heavy, shook his head as he stepped into the room, his dark brown gaze heavy with sympathy as he stared around the room.
"No it didn't, Carl," Chase said tonelessly.
"Trust me." Carl's voice hardened. "My shot took her. Yours went wild."
Cam rose from the floor, pulling Jaci with him, staring at his brother in shock as Chase moved to him.
"Keep your fucking mouth shut, both of you," Chase hissed to Cam and Jaci. "The Robertses can protect themselves. Our pasts stay in the fucking past. Do you understand me?"
Cam shook his head slowly as he stared at his brother's ravaged expression. "What have you done, Chase?"
To himself. He could see it in his brother now, the grief, the pain. He had killed Moriah Brockheim.
He'd had no choice. Cam would have taken the bullet and prayed for the best, rather than killing a woman that he knew his brother felt affection for.
"I showed her mercy," Chase bit off, his voice icy. "Start praying I show it to you later."
Jaci moved around Cam as the detective moved to him, her entire body shaking while she moved across the room to Annalee Roberts, where she knelt silently beside Moriah.
Chase was next to Richard, applying a compress to the wound as they awaited the paramedics.
"Bullet was deflected by the ribs. Broken rib, bullet passed out the side," Chase was muttering as Cam caught Jaci's arm, pulling her back to him.
"Don't." She shook her head, her voice hoarse as she stared up at him. "I have to do something."
His eyes were icy. They had been icy, cold, without emotion from the moment she had glimpsed them when he threw himself into the room.
He nodded sharply and let her move slowly away from him.
"She wasn't a b-bad kid," Annalee whispered brokenly. "Even as a b-baby. E-even then, she was so fragile." She smoothed back the long, silky hair from Moriah's face. "Her mother is my stepsister.
Margaret is a good woman. This will break her."
Annalee's shoulders heaved as Jaci slowly, hesitantly wrapped her arms around her. Surprisingly, Annalee let her comfort her, and Jaci couldn't explain why she tried, or why the other woman would care. But as she sobbed in Jaci's arms, Jaci had to admit that part of this was her own fault. She had to take the blame for it. She should have told Cam everything. She should have stood her ground, but allowed him to help.
"All secrets are safe here." Annalee lifted her face, her features somehow softer, move vulnerable than they had ever been. "No matter what happens, you'll suffer no more by our hands." She turned back to Moriah and convulsed in sobs again. "This was my fault. Sweet God. So much my fault." She leaned over the girl then, pulling herself from Jaci's arms as she embraced Moriah and sobbed in grief.
"Come on." Cam knelt beside her, watching the other two women with those cold, cold eyes of his. "I'm slipping you out of here. Detective Allen will confer with Roberts before the journalists get here. We don't need to be here."
She shook her head as he drew her to her feet. "But her parents . . ."
"Don't need to know you were here. Now, Jaci. We go now."
He pulled her to her feet and moved quickly to the door of the apartment.
Chase was waiting outside and gave an abrupt nod as they moved to the door.
"Take her down the back stairs. Matthew is waiting for you at the back door. Get the hell out of here."
Jaci moved on autopilot. She could feel the tears still running from her eyes, her body shuddering with shock, disbelief, and so many fears.
She couldn't seem to grasp everything she had heard, everything she had seen. It had happened too fast.
It was still happening too fast. Cam's arm was around her waist, pulling her down the stairs to the back entrance and into the limo waiting patiently in the alley.
Matthew was pulling away from the building even before Cam closed the door behind himself. He sat back in the seat and stared across the short distance to her. His face was still hard. His eyes still icy.
Jaci wrapped her arms around her stomach and bent forward, sobs tearing from her. She couldn't handle it. She couldn't imagine ever being the same again, and the terror wouldn't
abate.
"Come here, baby." Cam's voice softened, but only marginally.
But his arms wrapped around her and he was drawing her to his lap, wrapping her in his warmth, enclosing her in the protection of his arms.
And all she could do was cry harder. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, how she had never known Moriah was Annalee's niece. No one she had known had seemed to know. She hadn't heard so much as a breath of that information. She hadn't known.
"You couldn't have known." He sighed against her hair, as she realized she must have been sobbing her thoughts. "Very few people did know, Jaci. Stepsisters. It's not information either family discusses."
There were too many secrets in this world. Too many ghosts in too many closets, and now a young woman was dead; and she could tell, in those few desperate minutes, Cam's world had been changed forever as well.
"I don't know what to do," she cried, her fingers fisting in his shirt as she pressed her head tighter to his chest. "Oh God, Cam, I don't know what to do."
"Don't do anything." He kissed her brow and held her tighter. "Don't do anything Jaci, just let me hold you. For right now, just let me hold you."
27
Chase moved back into the study and watched as Congressman Roberts was loaded onto a gurney and investigators moved around the room, securing it.
He was sure that all traces of Cam, Jaci, and Ian had been cleared from the apartment. He and Carl Allen had made certain of it. And if anything showed up? Well, it would disappear just as easily. Allen was a member of the club, and in this case at least, it was a case of the old boys' club. Not exactly legal, but there was no reason to complicate the situation with the lies and half truths they would have to tell.
"Moriah was never stable," Annalee told another investigator from where she sat on the low couch across the room. "She blamed Richard because we wouldn't let her move into our home. She was very dependent on me." Annalee's face twisted in grief as more tears flowed from her swollen eyes. "She was like my child. I loved her."