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“Yes,” I say, holding his eyes. “I did find it.”
Caleb pushes out of his tent behind Mark, gaze swinging between the two of us. “Mark says you couldn’t have found his bag the way you say you did, Ivy.” He doesn’t sound like he’s outright accusing me of anything, at least not yet. He’s positioned equally distant between the two of us. Giving the impression that he’s not taking sides. Or that he wants to be able to get in between us fast if all hell breaks loose.
“Ivy,” Marks says, a kind of slithery whisper. “Told him your name, did you?” And there’s his cunning smile. “Your whole name?”
My stomach drops to my feet, my heart tripping in my chest. But Mark’s forgetting I know things about him as well, things I’m guessing Caleb has no idea about. “Does Caleb know why you were put out?” I throw back at Mark, and his lips press together in a thin white line.
“You two know each other?” Caleb asks, eyes narrowing.
“From Westfall,” Mark says without taking his eyes off me. “I think Ivy and I need to have a private conversation.” My first instinct is to say hell no and punch him in the face, but we both have something the other needs: our silence.
“Ivy?” Caleb asks.
“It’s fine,” I say, gaze never leaving Mark.
After a second, Caleb nods. “Okay. I’ll be in my tent if either of you need me.” He pauses to look at each of us in turn. “It would be better for everyone if you could find a way to work this out between you.”
I hate the thought of Mark stepping into the place where Ash and I sleep, but we need some privacy to talk, and there’s no way I’m leaving camp with him. I turn on my heel and walk back into my tent, while he limps after me. I stand on the far side of the tent, but when the flap falls closed behind him, he still feels too close.
“So, I’m guessing you never told them why you’re here,” I say. I want this over with, one way or the other.
“No,” Mark says, eyes sliding around the tent. “Just like you never said who your husband is.” His eyes finally stop moving, settle on me.
“I didn’t tell them I’m married,” I say, voice quiet.
Mark nods. “Smart…considering.” He takes a step closer to me and I shift backward.
“Don’t come near me.”
Mark raises both hands, huffs out a little laugh. Like I’m completely overreacting, as if he hadn’t tried to rape and kill me a week ago.
“We both want to stay here, right?”
“Right,” I say.
“Well, then, if we keep our mouths shut, there’s no reason that can’t work out.”
“You don’t deserve to be here. Not after what you’ve done.”
Mark’s eyes grow even colder, the pale blue fading to ice. “And you do?”
“I didn’t rape a little girl,” I remind him.
“Keep your voice down.”
I lower my voice to just above a whisper. “I didn’t kill a woman who couldn’t defend herself.”
Mark blows out a dismissive breath. “She was practically dead already. Who cares?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Maybe. But you’re just as bad.” He shakes his finger at me, like I’m a naughty child. “You married a Lattimer.”
I open my mouth to protest, and he stops me with a raised hand, a hissed reply. “And don’t give me any bullshit about how you had to marry him. I saw the way you looked at him that day in the woods. I saw the way he held your hand. And I’ll be happy to tell everyone all about it.” He gestures wide with both hands, including the whole camp within his palms. “There are plenty of people out there who blame every bad thing in their lives on the Lattimers. To them what you did is the worst betrayal of all.”
My stomach sinks as I realize my chance to be honest with Caleb and Ash about Mark has come and gone. I waited too long. Now that he’s back, I can’t risk angering him, can’t allow him to tell the truth about my relationship with Bishop. So I swallow past the rock of fear and regret that’s lodged in my throat and speak. “Fine. You don’t say anything, and I won’t either. And stay away from me.”
Mark nods. “I knew we could reach an agreement.” He turns to leave and throws me a glance over his shoulder, his eyes full of a knowing delight that makes me want to vomit. “We’re not so different after all, Ivy.”
