Read Online Midnight Sins by Lora Leigh - Free Book Online

niece, her heart
    breaking for the girl. It was all Ella could do to hold
    back her own tears. To keep from sobbing with Cami.
    God, how could her mother leave her alone now?
    How could Margaret have left this precious, beautiful
    child to fend for herself against the cruelties her father
    waged against her?
    Did Margaret even know the many, many times
    Mark had separated them? Had her sister-in-law even
    realized, in the Valium haze she existed within, that
    her daughter was being tormented by the man who
    had sworn to protect her?
    “Cami,” Ella whispered as she laid her hand on
    the girl’s knee. “You don’t have to go through this
    alone. He would want to know.”
    She shook her head again.
    “Why?”
    Cami turned back to her, the gray of her eyes like
    storm clouds, swirling with pain, with anger and
    desperation. “Hasn’t he had enough taken from him?”
    she asked painfully. “I can’t tell him, Ella. I can’t do that
    to him.”
    No matter how much she needed him.
    “Don’t tell him.” Cami suddenly gripped Ella’s
    arm, as though she knew the thoughts that hadn’t yet
    fully formed in her mind. “Please, Aunt Ella. Don’t do
    that to me. Don’t let me be someone else that’s hurt
    him. Please.” The last was a sob as more tears fell
    from her eyes, joining those that already had soaked
    her face.
    Ella nodded hesitantly. She didn’t like it. She
    hated it. But this was Cami’s choice, and she chose
    to bear the burden alone rather than allow that young
    man to know that he had lost something so precious
    as the child he had created with Cami. She clearly
    remembered how he had come to her after getting out
    of jail, accused of Jaymi’s murder, his own eyes wet
    with tears as he comforted Cami then. He would have
    come for her now as well.
    Could she blame her niece? Wouldn’t she have
    protected Eddy if the situation were the same though?
    Would she have done anything different? She knew
    she wouldn’t have.
    Ella sighed heavily. “How much more are you
    going to carry alone, Cami?”
    Cami shook her head, those tear-drenched eyes
    breaking Ella’s heart. “Don’t,” Cami whispered. “Just
    let it go. Just let me go, Ella. Please. I can’t talk right
    now.”
    Ella let her go and understood the request. Cami
    had whispered those words to her the first time, nine
    years ago, when her sister had been laid in the
    ground.
    The funeral had been over and everyone had left.
    Ella and Eddy had been unable to find Cami until the
    funeral director had called.
    Cami had stayed at the gravesite, and she was
    silently watching as they buried her sister’s coffin. He
    was terrified if someone didn’t come for her, then they
    might be laying her beside Jaymi soon.
    Ella had rushed to Cami’s side, trying to
    convince her to return to the house.
    “ Let me go, Aunt Ella, ” her voice had echoed
    with such pure, deep agony that even Eddy had
    grimaced, forced to turn his head away to fight his
    tears. “Let me go, before I hurt you, too.”
    Cami had just drifted away then. Ella had
    watched her eyes lose emotion, her expression
    become distant despite the tears that rained down
    her face. Emotionally and spiritually, Cami had drifted
    away from them.
    That was what she was doing now. Turning back
    to the window, she stared out onto the street, and Ella
    wondered what Cami saw there. Where did Cami go
    when she sat there and stared onto the sun-drenched
    street that seemed quieter and more peaceful than it
    ever had, as though the world itself were holding its

breath and grieving with her?
    Ella wasn’t able to leave Cami. She couldn’t walk
    away from her. That was exactly what her mother had
    done. Ella refused to do it.
    She stayed in the background, watched until
    Cami finally fell asleep, her small, fragile body curled
    into the window seat, her arms wrapped around her
    self as though there was no other way to feel the
    warmth of human touch.
    And for a moment, for the briefest