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Was love always so twisted? Her father had struggled to show any affection. Her mother was willing to sacrifice her pride, her money, and her heart for a man who barely tolerated her. And now she discovered Nat had lost her moral compass for a girl who was ashamed of their relationship.
Without warning, the image of Niko’s perfectly sculpted face and piercing blue eyes seared through her mind. There was something refreshingly solid and dependable about him. He would always be loyal to those he loved, but he wouldn’t allow his ethics to be compromised.
With a shake of her head, Rayne forced herself to concentrate on her mother. “And you agreed to pay to keep her silent.”
“Obviously,” Tami snapped, as if it was an unbearably stupid question.
“And what about Mark?”
“What about him?”
“Did he know you were being blackmailed?”
Tami’s lips tightened, but she forced herself to answer. “Yes. I confronted him. Of course he promised it would never happen again.”
Rayne parted her lips, unable to believe her mother hadn’t been horrified to discover that her husband was preying on young girls. Then she snapped them shut. What was the point? Her mother was blind to Mark’s numerous faults. No. Not blind, she corrected herself. Just too besotted or obsessed to accept he was a pig.
“Was he okay with handing over the money to Nat?” Rayne demanded.
“Not really. He was convinced the little bitch would keep asking for more money.”
“What did he suggest?”
Tami turned to snub out the cigarette. Not that it helped. The stench of smoke still hung thick in the air. “He wanted to ignore her.”
Ignore her? That didn’t sound right. “He was willing to be arrested for having sex with a minor?”
“The girl was eighteen,” her mother snapped.
“Even if she was eighteen, which I doubt, he still seduced a schoolgirl.”
Tami waved aside the accusation. “As I said, it was all in the past.”
“No longer.”
“What do you mean?”
“She means that she intends to ruin my life, my dear,” a male voice drawled as Mark stepped through a side door and strolled toward his wife.
He was dressed in casual jeans and a cashmere sweater and his hair was ruffled, as if he’d been out in the wind.
Her mother held out her hand, looking like a pathetic child in need of comfort. “Mark.”
Mark paused next to the fireplace, grabbing the iron poker before he continued toward his wife. “A shame, really, but I’ve expected this day to finally come.”
With a casual motion, Mark lifted the poker, and before Rayne could absorb what she was seeing, he was slicing it through the air to hit her mother on the side of her head. Rayne gasped, watching in shocked disbelief as the older woman crumpled to the ground, blood dripping from the wound at her temple to stain the white carpeting.
“What are you doing?” she rasped, backing away from the man who’d been a blight on her life since she was just a child.
He twirled the poker, something that might be anticipation shimmering in his eyes. He was looking forward to hurting her. No doubt he’d been wanting to bash in her brain for years.
“Bringing an end to what you started,” he taunted.
She licked her dry lips. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but soon Niko was going to come crashing through the door. She just had to stay alive until then.
“I didn’t start anything.”
“You stuck your nose into the past, stirring up things that were best left buried.”
