Deceiving Lies

17

Kash

MASON AND I FINISHED ZIP-TYING numbers six and seven, and made sure they wouldn’t be waking up for some time before we silently made our way back down the stairs. After thirteen hours at the department, Mason and I had rushed back to the building and wasted no time in coming in to find Rachel. The bad feeling I’d had the night before had only increased, and with each member of Juarez’s gang we came upon, I knew I was getting closer and closer to my girl. Capturing the first seven members had been easier than expected. None had heard us approach them; they hadn’t even been expecting us. It was almost like they weren’t worried about anyone getting in the building . . . they were making sure someone didn’t get out. I knew who that someone was, and I was about to get her back. Putting my ear up against the door at the bottom of the stairs, I counted to ten, and when no sounds could be heard from the other side, I nodded my head at Mase. He opened the door and we hurried through with our guns drawn.

Making our way to the large, metal door where numbers six and seven had been stationed, we repeated the same process and opened the door. There was an old mattress pushed to the back wall. Other than that, it was empty.

We retreated out of the room and walked down the hall, clearing rooms and a kitchen. I heard a low snap and looked over to Mason. He was pointing down at the floor, and for the briefest of seconds, he flipped on the light that was mounted onto his firearm.

There was blood all over the floor. Mason and I had made this a completely silent mission so far, and we hadn’t shed blood of any of the guys we’d come across. The possibilities of whose blood that could be had me straining to keep calm. We moved out of the kitchen and continued down the hall, coming across more blood as we did. As soon as we found the second patch of stained concrete in the hall, we heard movement down the hall and froze.

Turning, I pointed down the hall, and we moved silently back toward the entrance. I slipped into the room with the mattress, and Mason motioned he was going closer to the door. Peeking out, I watched him enter the open doorway of one of the first rooms we’d come across. It was dark as hell underground, but not willing to let them even see a shadow, I withdrew back into the room and let the metal door shut enough without it latching.

Whoever was coming was staying as silent as we had, but the softest sound of shuffling went past the door, and I slowly opened the metal door enough to fit my body between it and the doorjamb. When the shuffling continued toward the entrance, I peeked around the corner and stopped breathing.

Rachel.

I could see her hair pulled back, and even in the dark, I’d know those bare legs anywhere. I’d spent countless hours in the dark worshipping and memorizing them, there was no way not to recognize them. The form of a large man was in front of her, and even though Mason and I had sworn to only knock the people out to keep them quiet, I knew if I got close to him, it would take an army to pull me off him.

Just as I started to slip into the hall, they stopped and he pulled her back a few steps. I moved just inside the doorjamb again, and waited for when they would pass me.

“Where are we going?” Rachel asked, sounding terrified. God, just hearing her voice was about to bring me to my knees. Over a month without her. Over a month of wondering if I would ever see her again. Over a month praying that I would hear that voice again. And now it was about to all be over.

“It’s too quiet”—a deep voice responded—“it’s not right. They have to be waiting outside that door.”

His men were outside that door, though they weren’t waiting. But I sure as shit was.

For a couple minutes, there was nothing. I held my breath as I waited for the signs of movement, and growled when I heard Rachel’s panicked, “What are you going to do?”

If he touched her, I would kill him. If he hurt her, I would do it slowly.

Not willing to give him the chance to do anything, I turned in to the hall and put one foot silently in front of the other as I got closer and closer to Rachel’s back. I barely caught sight of Mason creeping up behind the man when everything in me locked up.

What. The. Fuck.

I stared in disbelief, and agonizing horror as I watched my fiancée kiss him. I waited for her to fight him, or tell him to stop. Neither happened, and I couldn’t figure out if I was going to throw up, or kill him with my bare hands when they parted just a few seconds later.

Hushed whispers filled the hall, and I somehow found the strength to move toward Rachel when I caught sight of Mason creeping up behind the man again. Forcing myself to focus on Rachel instead of on the man I wanted to kill, I had to bite back a growl when I heard his deep command.

“Stay.”

He took a step back and Mason’s low voice filled the hall. “Freeze.”

Rachel froze and whispered, “No.”

I watched the man raise his hands and noted the rifle hanging from around his neck. But I knew if he reached for anything again, Mason wouldn’t let him get far. Knowing she would expect it to be one of the other members, I prepared for her to fight back, and holstered my gun before wrapping an arm around Rachel’s chest to pull her away with me.

“No!” she screamed and bucked against me, but I didn’t let go.

The man brought his arms to his waist and I retreated faster. “Mase, gun!”

“I said freeze, you son of a bitch!”

Rachel stopped fighting me, and I heard a loud inhale coming from her at the same time the man said, “Let her go.”

“Kash?” Rachel whispered.

My legs felt like they were going to give out when she said my name. “Yeah, Sour Patch,” I managed to say. “It’s me.”

“Kash!” she yelled, and turned to wrap her arms tightly around my neck.

Dying. It felt like I was dying for a different reason than I had over the last month. She’d just been kissing someone else. Pushing her back, I held her away at arm’s length and struggled to look at her. “Rachel, how many people are here?”

Her body shook with sobs and she blinked rapidly against the tears when she answered, “What?”

“How many people are in this building. We need to make sure we get them all before we get out of here.”

“Um, I don’t . . . Trent said there were thirteen—”

“Who’s Trent?”

She turned to look over at the man and Mason. “He’s—Mason, no!” she yelled when Mason hit him over the back of the head with the butt of his gun, his knee in the man’s back keeping him on the ground.

Pulling away from where I’d been holding her, she ran to where Mason was now zip-tying his hands together. I watched as she fell to her knees, pushed Mason away, cradled Trent’s head in her lap, and continued to run her hands over his head and shoulders as she apologized to him.

I was going to be sick. I stumbled back into the wall, and somehow kept myself vertical as I felt my world shatter around me. What new nightmare had I just landed in?

She kissed him.

She left me for him.

I’d spent over a month searching for her, and worrying about her . . . and within a minute of getting her, she ran from me to another man.

“Oh God. Trent, wake up, please.”

He groaned and whispered her name, and she cried out in relief.

“Rachel, get away from him. Now,” Mason demanded when I just continued to stand there, staring at them like a bad car accident.

She looked over at Mason, then me, and reached an arm out toward me. “Please release him and call an ambulance. Hurry, he’s hurt!”

“What the fuck, Rachel?” Mason looked up at me with a confused expression.

Grinding my teeth, I turned so I couldn’t see them anymore and spoke into the empty hall. Trying to get my mind on anything else. “How many others are there?”

“Seven,” Trent groaned from the ground. “There were thirteen here, but I took out five last night.”

Turning back around, I saw Rachel staring up at me with Trent’s head still resting in her hands, on her lap. She was crying silently, and even in the dark I could see the hurt on her face. But her hurt didn’t make sense. She wasn’t the one that felt betrayed.

“Why did you take them out?” Mason asked, but I couldn’t take my eyes from Rachel.

She kept staring at me even as she answered for Trent. “They tried to take me from him and they were going to kill him. He was going to help me escape, he was trying to keep me safe and one of them shot him last night during the fight.”

“There were three outside smoking when we came in, two guarding the door to come in here, and two guarding the metal door behind me. They’re all unconscious and tied up upstairs. You’re sure there are no others?”

“Yes,” Trent grunted as he sat up, and away from Rachel.

Mason approached me and whispered so his voice wouldn’t carry. “What the fuck is happening right now?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do we call a bus?”

I shook my head and shrugged helplessly. “We will when we call everyone else. Let’s get him upstairs and away from my goddamn fiancée.”

Mason walked in front of me, and grabbing Trent’s arms, roughly pulled him up. I had no doubt he was doing that for my benefit.

A pained cry left Trent as Mason yanked him up the stairs, and Rachel yelled, “Mason, stop! He’s been shot, and he’s not going to hurt anyone. Untie his hands, please!”

“Rachel”—I cleared my throat and somehow managed to stop looking at her—“come on, we need to get you out of here.”

“Please don’t hurt him, he protected me!” I watched her struggle to stand and realized too late that I should have been trying to help her. “You need to do something, they’ll kill him when they wake up.”

What was I supposed to say? I’m sorry? She was breaking my fucking heart.

The door burst open, and Mason came back in.

Giving Mason a look, I nodded toward Rachel and said, “We need to get Rachel out to the truck. Then we’ll, uh, we’ll call everyone.” I was thankful for our years of working together as he reached for Rachel, and began leading her up the stairs. I needed a minute to process everything I’d just seen.

Falling back against the wall, I bent over and rested my hands on my knees as I breathed heavily through my nose. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t lose her now. I’d almost lost her too many times, and too much had happened between us for this to end us. There was no way I was about to let whatever happened to her here, or whatever was going on between her and Trent, take her away from me. I would fight for her. I’d always fight for her.

When I’d collected myself enough, I made my way upstairs. Glancing over at the eight men, my gaze hardened as I saw Trent sitting there, head bent so he was looking at the floor. Bastard didn’t even have the decency to look at me as I walked right past him on my way out to the truck.

My heart picked up seeing Rachel, but I tried to control it . . . not knowing where we stood anymore.

Mason walked over to meet me, and stayed facing the building behind me as he spoke to me. “She’s just sitting there begging me not to turn him in.”

It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Begging Mason not to turn in one of her captors. That’s all she’s doing? Not thanking Mason for helping rescue her? Not wanting to see me?

“She’s covered in blood”—Mason continued—“and before you go freaking out, I’m almost positive it’s his. She looks pretty bruised, but I don’t think she’s bleeding anywhere.”

“Bruised? What the fuck, where is she bruised?”

“Half of her face is practically black and blue, and when I tried helping her into the truck, she almost screamed from where I was touching her arms.”

I didn’t care if Trent had been the reason behind it or not, I was going to fucking murder him. I started turning, but Mason was right there with a hand pressed to my chest.

“Don’t do it, Kash. I know you want to, but don’t fuck up your life over this. What the hell is even going on here? I thought for sure she would have been a hell of a lot more excited to see us. She seemed happy for all of fifteen seconds before running back to him.”

“I know,” I growled, and gave him a warning glare. “I think it’s some fucked-up form of Stockholm syndrome.”

“Shit.” Mason glanced behind him at the building, before looking over my shoulder where the truck was. “Are you okay?”

I looked up at Mason and huffed, but it sounded pained. “I spent a month thinking my fiancée was being tortured and murdered. I thought I would never see her again. And not only did I just watch her kiss another man, within seconds of having her in my arms again, she ran out of them and back to him! Do you think I’m fucking okay?”

Mason and I both looked over when a choking sound came from Rachel, now looking at us through the open truck door. “It isn’t—it isn’t like that! I just . . . Trent was . . . it isn’t like that, Kash, I swear!” She dropped her head into her bloodstained hands and started sobbing again.

I mumbled a curse and slowly walked over to her. My hands clenched into fists when I saw the bruising on her face when she looked back up at me. “We’re going to call the department and have them come pick up everyone. They’re going to want to question you, and I want someone to check your face. Okay?”

“I swear I didn’t—it isn’t like that! He just took care of me, and I thought we were going to die . . . a-and I’m sorry! All I wanted was to get back to you, he was going to help me find you, you have to believe me.”

“Okay, Rachel. It’s okay.”

“I’m happy to see you, I swear!”

And yet it sounded like she was trying to convince herself rather than me. I dropped my head back so I was facing the sky, and ground my teeth to stop my jaw from shaking. I just needed to be thankful that she was alive. The rest . . . well, the rest we would just have to sort out later. Bringing my head back down, I forced a smile and stepped back, and away from her.

“Stay here while we call the department and inform everyone of what happened today. When this is over, if you want to go back to our home”—I swallowed past the lump in my throat—“then, uh, that’s where . . . that’s where I’ll take you.”

“Logan,” she choked out, but I had already turned and walked back to where Mason was playing with his phone.

“Do you think you should be upsetting her more right now? Maybe just—”

“Just what, Mase? You’re not the one having to go through this shit, so don’t tell me how to fucking act right now. Let’s just do our jobs.” I let out an aggravated groan and rested both hands on top of my head and forced myself not to turn and look at Rachel. “Did you call the department?”

“Yep, before you ever came out of the building. Police and ambulance should be here any minute. Chief and some of the others will be here not long after.”

I nodded my head and walked toward the building just so I could get away from Rachel, and Mason’s observant eyes.

“Kash,” Mason said in clear warning, but I didn’t stop.

As soon as I entered the building, I went directly to Trent and bent down so I was closer to his eye level. He finally looked up at me, and his dark eyes were hard as we stared at each other.

“If you put those bruises on my future wife’s face”—I growled—“I will pay back every one tenfold.”

“I would die before doing that to her.”

I saw red. My hands clenched into fists as I yelled, “I’m sure you’ll understand why I don’t fucking believe you! You’ve held her here for over a goddamn month, you worthless piece of shit! If I find out that any of that torture actually happened, you won’t live to see the next day!”

Trent kept his eyes on me but didn’t say anything else until after I’d stood and began walking away. “She loves you.”

My chest clenched painfully. “You should have reminded yourself of that before you kissed her.” Turning to look at him, I held his gaze as I said, “She’s mine. Do you get that? You can’t have her, and if you touch her again, I won’t be held responsible for my actions. She belongs. To. Me.”

When his eyes fell back to the floor, I turned and left the building. The faint sound of sirens could be heard as I made my way to Mason.

“Mase, I’m going to want to go back with Rachel when they take her in, if they still need you here. Are you cool?”

“Yeah, just— Never mind. Yeah, I’m good.”

“No, tell me.”

He sighed and looked over my shoulder at the truck before looking back at me. “Just be prepared, all right? She was kidnapped and kept here for over a month, and we don’t know what they did in fact do to her.”

A short, humorless laugh left me. I’d just been saying the same thing. “Trust me. Mase, I know that. Be prepared for what?”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before blowing out a ragged breath. “Anything, Kash. She might not be the same Rachel anymore. Even with everything that already happened, you just have to be there for her, and hope that she’s still in there.”

God, I hope like hell my Rachel is still there . . . somewhere. I shut my eyes tight against the tears pricking the backs of them and locked my jaw. It wasn’t until the ambulance and two patrol cars were on the scene that I finally opened my eyes again and made my way back to the truck.

“You ready, Rachel?”

Her jaw trembled when she looked up at me, and it broke me to watch her eyes fill with tears again. She opened her mouth, but only nodded when nothing came out.

“All right, let’s get you to the station then.”

AS WAS EXPECTED, I wasn’t allowed in the room as they questioned all the men we’d arrested or Rachel on everything that had happened from the actual kidnapping, to the month that she’d been gone. At least Chief had let me stay in the observation room to Rachel’s room so I could watch.

I hadn’t decided if I was glad I’d stayed to listen, or not.

After finding out Trent was the one to physically kidnap her, and keep her locked in that fucking small room with the mattress in it, my jealousy turned into pure rage, and it took everything for me to not hunt down the room he was in and finally do what I’d been wanting to. After listening to Rachel countlessly remind the detectives interviewing her that Trent had been protecting her, taking care of her, and trying to help her escape, I just wanted to throw up again.

She talked about him like he was a hero. She described him as being tortured emotionally, and being forced to do everything. “But, oh no! He isn’t a bad person!” And apparently I wasn’t the only one thinking it . . . because Detective Byson asked her if she’d ever heard of Stockholm syndrome.

“What? No! I mean, yes, I’ve heard of it; but no. I don’t have that, he was just good to me. He was just protecting me and keeping me safe, and it’s something I appreciated, that’s all.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to remind her that he’d taken her from me. That he’d kept her from me and had me believing she was being tortured. I wanted to know why she’d let him kiss her. I just wanted to fucking throw something. That must be why they didn’t have tables or chairs in the observation room. And I completely stopped breathing when Byson asked his next question.

“Rachel, did you and Mr. Trent Cruz have any form of a sexual relationship while you were in captivity?”

“N-no! No! He— No! We just . . . No!” She licked her lips quickly and turned to face the one-way mirror.

I stared into her blue eyes through the glass for a few seconds before I turned and walked out the door. There was so much pain radiating through my chest, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I’d been prepared for her to be hurt. I’d been prepared for her to have some things to work through if we got her out okay. I hadn’t been ready for this.