“Yeah, man, I’ll do that.”
“Later.”
I pressed the END button and sat on the bed as I pulled up the address on the map and memorized the location, as well as a handful of ways to get there. Pulling up my contacts, I hit Mason’s name and waited.
“Mmm?” Mason groaned when he answered his phone.
“Get up, get over here . . . we need to go. I got info, Sunny just called me. I know where she is, man. Come on, let’s go.”
“Kash? The hell—do you know what time it is?”
I looked around me until I found the clock. Just as I started to apologize out of habit for calling him at three in the morning, I stopped and huffed. “Do you think I give a shit? She’s been gone for thirty-four days now! Who cares what time it is? My fiancée was snatched and I think I know where she is, so we need to get her back, you ass**le!”
He grunted a couple of times like he was sitting up, and yawned. “I know, sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Kash, man, you know they’re not going to let you go anywhere without watching you. Wait, did you say Sunny called you? When?”
“I haven’t seen any units sitting on my house since the beginning of this. Do you know something I don’t?”
“They aren’t sitting. But there are a few in your district that are doing close patrol on you. They’re afraid with what’s happening, and your expertise in this, that you’re gonna do something bad.”
I laughed sadistically and got off the bed again to begin pacing. “Obviously they know me well.”
“Okay, now that I’m somewhat awake, start over. You said Sunny called?”
“Yes, Mason. He called and I’m ninety-nine percent positive that the location he gave me is where she is.”
“And why would you think that? Have you checked it yet?”
“No, we need to go check it!” I yelled. “Which is why I’m calling you to get your ass out of bed!”
“Tell me why you think she’s there.”
“Because apparently this is Juarez’s other house. His main house. Like main operation, home base, whatever the f**k you want to call it, and his orders from prison are for it to be locked down. No one other than his men are to get in or out.”
There were a few beats of silence before Mason asked, “When are we going in?”
“As soon as you get up.”
“We need to sit on it for a few days, we can’t just rush in.”
“I know. We will.”
“Patrol is going to notice if you don’t come home after work, it’ll raise flags. And we need to make appearances at the department so they don’t go calling us to see where we are.”
I thought for a second before responding. “Okay we’ll do all that, and I’ll ask my parents to come stay at the house so it looks like someone’s here. We’ll use your truck so mine stays out front. Now can we just start this already?”
“All right. Let’s do it, you know I’m in. I’d never let you go into anything alone, and I’d never let you try to save Rach without me.” He paused for a minute before quietly asking, “You don’t sound good, Kash. Like, you sound like you’re breaking. What’s going on?”
“Within a year’s time, I’ve walked in on a serial killer literally slicing Rachel’s arms, stomach, and chest. Before Blake had gotten his hands on her again, I’d watched as he tortured her psychologically. I watched how it drove her crazy and haunted her. Now with this? I’ve seen pictures of physical torture done to her by different men. We don’t know what is and isn’t legit, but that’s a moot point. Because once again, I can’t do a damn thing to stop whatever is happening to her.”
“Kash—”
“It is killing me to have her gone. It is killing me not to know what is happening to her. And though we know some of the evidence is false, it doesn’t change what I’ve seen in those pictures, on those videos, and heard on those recordings. I have watched and listened to my future wife go through hell, and I feel like it is literally killing a part of me with every passing day. And now she’s so f**king close, I’m shaking because it’s like she’s right there, right f**king there, and I’m about to lose it if I don’t do something about it right now. Understand? I feel like I have every right to not sound okay right now.”
“Okay, I understand. I just—I’m sorry. You’ve been so dead these last few weeks and now you sound like you’re on the verge of going on a killing spree— Oh . . . wait, never mind.”
“Yeah.”
“All right, I’m getting ready. Get some things together for overnights out at this place, and for work. And get your ‘oh-shit’ bag ready for when we do the takedown.”
“Call me when you’re on your way.”
I tossed my phone on the bed, let Trip outside, and hurried to get everything together.
Hold on, Rachel. I’m coming.
14
Rachel
THE STORM HADN’T LET UP AT ALL, and over the next two days, the power continued to go out. Only staying on for maybe fifteen minutes at a time, a few times a day. I was feeling desperate suddenly. I knew I needed to get out of there, but I had no idea what had come over me that morning that was terrifying me.
I’d spent hours after breakfast trying to convince Trent to get me out of there, but he wouldn’t budge.