Forgiving Lies - Page 17/52

Fuck . . . Mason was about to make us desk bitches.

“The charge was dropped, by the way; you’re welcome.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Mason mumbled.

“No disrespect, sir, but why are you here?” I hurried to finish before he could get mad. “I mean, your being here kind of scared the shit out of us. The only reason I could come up with for it is that bad shit went down back home. So is everything okay?”

He took his time sitting back down in one of the chairs and straightening out his tie. “Things are great for you, gentlemen. My wife and I are here visiting family in Houston and I got the call yesterday morning that the guys hired to take the two of you out are now in prison awaiting trial for first-degree murder.”

“That—” I looked over at Mason and straightened up a bit. “That’s good. So we’re not hiding anymore?”

“No, but for the duration of this case, you will continue to stay where you are, working where you are, and doing what you’ve been doing. If you want to tell your family where you’re at, that’s up to you.”

“Understood,” Mason answered when I got quiet.

“You boys work tonight?”

“No, sir.”

“Let’s go grab a beer and talk about this case and what’s going to happen when you come back to Tampa Bay. I’m not exactly in a rush to get back to my wife’s family,” he said as his eyes widened in dread.

“MASE, WE NEED to talk about this.”

“About what?”

“About not being in hiding.”

He nodded his head and lifted one hand from the steering wheel to run it over his face. “I don’t think we should tell our families where we are.”

“Agreed. And I don’t think we should tell the girls who we are yet.”

“What? Why?”

“Same reason we don’t want to tell our families where we are. We need to keep them safe. As soon as we tell them who we are, we’ll have to tell them about our lives . . . at least back in Florida. They’re going to know why we’re here even if they don’t know about the case. Their knowing anything is dangerous.”

“It makes sense, but are you going to be able to stay away from her?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like you’ve been staying away from Candice.”

“It’s different, and you know it.”

“I’m not going to put Rachel in danger, and we need to be in agreement with this. So do you agree or not?”

“Yeah, whatever. I agree, Mr. Chicken Noodle.”

“Fuck off.” As soon as he pulled into an empty space, I was out of the truck and walking to the girls’ apartment. The door was locked, and after knocking quietly and getting no response, I wasted no time at all picking the lock and letting myself in.

A smile tugged at my lips as I took in Rachel wrapped up in the comforter like a burrito, Kleenex everywhere, a half-empty Gatorade bottle on the floor next to the couch, and an empty box of Sour Patch Kids on the table next to the cold and allergy medicine. I brushed the back of my hand against her forehead, making sure she hadn’t gotten a fever since I’d left her, and she rolled toward me on a groan.

“Rach, wake up,” I whispered close to her ear, and let my fingers trail down her cheek.

She grumbled again as her eyes slowly cracked open. “Time is it?”

“Almost five. You hungry?”

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes again.

Laughing softly, I kissed her forehead and spoke against it. “It’s probably because you ate the green ones when I told you not to.”

Her body went rigid for all of three seconds before she began burrowing herself deeper into the comforter and away from me.

My next laugh was louder. “Take some more medicine, and go take a hot shower; the steam will help. I’ll make you soup for when you get out.”

As soon as she was vertical and headed toward her room, I ran back to my apartment to rid myself of my badge and gun before going back to take care of her. Mason raised an eyebrow and mentioned something about lying to her for longer than necessary, but I ignored it. Lying for now meant keeping her safe. And that’s what mattered most.

7

Rachel

I was on my way into the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, I sighed when I saw it was only half past eight. Was it already Thursday? Poor Mrs. Adams.

Walking over to the door, I flipped the locks and swung open the door, a bright smile plastered on my face, prepared for her weekly crazy. What I saw on the other side of the door had my stomach dropping and all the blood draining from my head. I thought I was going to pass out in the split second it took for me to grab the door and try to slam it shut.

Blake caught the door before it closed and pushed it open enough to get in. “Good morning to you too.”

“Get out!”

“Aww. Come on, baby, don’t be like that.” He locked the door behind him and walked toward me with his arms open. I matched each step with one of my own.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What would you prefer? Princess? Sweetheart? My girl?”

“None of the above. Get. Out.” By that time I was close enough to my room that I spun around, made it in there, and locked the door behind me before Blake came crashing into it.

“Open the damn door, Rachel!” he yelled, beating on it.

I ran over to my nightstand and grabbed my phone to call Kash, but my fingers were moving so slowly I still hadn’t gotten my password in when Blake broke the door right off the hinges. I screamed as he turned me around and shoved me into the wall, my head cracking against it. I started seeing black spots and struggled to keep myself standing.

“Why do you always do this? You know you do this to me, baby! I don’t want to hurt you!”

I tried to take a step to the side but ended up falling over. Blake caught me before I could hit the ground. He scooped me into his arms and placed me gently on the bed as he brought his mouth to mine. I pressed my lips into a hard line and turned my head away from him.

“Stop! Please!” I screamed again, hoping that someone would hear.

“If you can’t keep that mouth of yours shut, I’ll keep it shut for you. Do you understand me?”

I gathered what saliva I had and spit in his eye, earning me a hard blow across my face. I cried out in pain and tried to bring my hands up to block another in case it came, but I couldn’t force them to move. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a roll of duct tape.

I tried to ask why he was doing this to me, but my words came out as more of a whimper than anything. The next thing I knew, he was placing a strip of tape over my mouth and gathering my hands over my head to tape my wrists together. I was choking on a sob, and I worked hard to keep it down so I could continue to breathe.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, sweetheart. Why do you have to be so difficult?” he crooned as he kissed my forehead, cheeks, and nose.

Blake took his time making a trail of kisses up and down my neck, eventually leading toward my chest. He grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up so it was covering my face, leaving my breasts bare. I tried turning my body away from him but he crushed his weight onto my hips, keeping me on my back. He explored every inch of my torso and chest before pulling down my pajama shorts and underwear. I wasn’t able to hold back my sob any longer. I tried kicking at him but he was still pinning my legs down.

“I know you want me and this whole playing-hard-to-get act is getting old. I will have you, so stop fighting.” I could feel his warm breath coming through the shirt covering my face, and his lips went to my ear. “Or don’t, it’s up to you. If you want it rough, then that’s how I’ll give it to you. But one way or another, I will break you, and I will own you. You. Are. Mine.”

My body stopped shaking momentarily as a chill ran down my spine and I became covered in goose bumps.

“That’s what I thought.”

Tears burned my eyes as I shook violently, my sobs growing weaker and weaker as Blake claimed my body. Why wasn’t anyone coming to save me? How had no one heard my screams or Blake breaking down the door? Kash’s face flashed through my mind and I clung to that image while my body lay there lifelessly. I turned my face to the side and stared into nothingness as tears fell onto my shirt. I wondered if anyone had ever felt the kind of hate I felt for this man.

When it was over, Blake lowered his body onto mine and kissed my neck before whispering in my ear, “You’re mine, Rachel. I’ll never let you go.”

I jerked upright and let out a scream. Confused, I looked around me at the perfectly messy bedroom and my hands flew to my face. It was wet with tears, but there was no duct tape. My bedroom door was intact, and I was alone in my bed. Falling back onto the pillows, I tried to slow my racing heart and looked at the clock on my nightstand. It was almost eight. I must have fallen asleep again after Candice left for cheer camp. A sob hitched in my throat and finally broke free in relief. It was only a dream. Blake wasn’t here.

But it had felt so real.

Needing to get out of that bed, I jumped up, tore the sweat-soaked sheets off the bed, and put them in the wash. My body was still violently shaking as I turned the water on in the shower as hot as it would go. This wasn’t the first nightmare I’d had of him, not even close. But it was by far the worst. I welcomed the burn of the water and scrubbed every inch of my body three times before stepping back out. My skin was red and blotchy as I shakily grabbed my toothbrush and brushed my teeth twice.

I still didn’t feel clean.

Dream or not, I felt violated all over again. Everything from the night with Blake came flooding back to me and mixed with what my subconscious had tortured me with. I could still feel his weight on me—feel him in me. I could hear his voice ringing in my ears, and my cheeks stung like I’d actually been hit.

I dressed in loose sweatpants, threw on a tank top, and pulled my dad’s old rugby sweatshirt on. It was the middle of the summer, and our apartment wasn’t very cool, but I was still shaking and felt a chill that was bone-deep working its way through my body.