Deceiving Lies

20

Kash

SLIPPING THE CHAIN holding the badge over my head, I pulled on an old Henley shirt and made sure it covered my duty weapon resting in the holster on my belt. Grabbing my tactical boots, I put them on and ran a hand through my hair as I walked out of the bedroom.

It was weird. Getting ready for work whenever Rach was home usually consisted of me trying to get ready, and her doing everything to make sure I had fewer clothes on ten minutes later than when I’d begun. Now that she was back, I hadn’t expected it to go back to that immediately. But she shut herself in the closet when she changed and always seemed to walk out of the bedroom whenever I was doing the same. And it’d been close to three weeks since she’d come home.

I stopped near the end of the hall and leaned a shoulder against the wall as I watched her. She was sitting on the far end of one of the couches, her legs up in that way that she always seemed to sit now, and was staring off into the backyard. Her journal was resting in between her knees and her chest, a pen in her hand like she’d forgotten she was writing again.

This happened a lot now too. She wrote more than she used to, and even when she wasn’t writing, there were times when she would suddenly stop whatever she was doing and just stare off . . . usually outdoors. I didn’t ask what she was thinking about, or what she was remembering, because it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. I just usually tried to let her be alone in her thoughts during those times.

With all that said, though, she was getting better all the time, and I was so damn proud of her. After that second day home, when she’d walked into the living room with her engagement ring back on, we’d slowly been working on everything. Neither of us mentioned the fact that she put it on, but I’m positive I hadn’t stopped smiling like a lunatic for hours after.

We’d worked on her fear and anxiety, as well as my jealousy issues and insecurities over Trent. But most of all, we’d just worked on being us again. She hadn’t cried since her second shower, as far as I knew; and after a long talk about how she’d felt like she didn’t know the man who’d come to rescue her . . . she slowly went back to calling me Kash again. As I’d seen that second day, my bitchy Rachel was still there, and her attitude was slowly coming out more and more. I’d gone back to treating her like I always had from day one, and she’d gone back to teasing and fighting with me again, as well as smiling a little more every day.

Though she didn’t ask about him, she knew that I’d made sure Trent was put in an isolation cell so that no one could get to him except for the guards, and I knew she only didn’t mention him for my benefit. Because every night, in her sleep, she’d whisper his name. Sometimes her voice was laced with fear or agony, and sometimes it was as if he were standing right there . . . but it never failed. Though we were working on us, and I knew without a doubt that she loved me, there was always that nagging thought of what her real thoughts of him were. Even still, Mason and I had been working for the last few weeks on getting him moved somewhere else for his safety, but since Rachel didn’t bring him up, I wasn’t sure how to bring that up to her . . . especially when there was the chance we wouldn’t succeed.

I held her every night in our bed, and took any opportunity to kiss the top of her head, forehead, cheeks, and neck . . . but we still hadn’t kissed since that second morning. There were lingering touches from her, brushes here and there; and when I would hold her in my arms, her eyes would search mine as her fingers gently trailed over my face and through my hair. It was the sweetest form of agony I’d ever endured.

I pushed off the wall, and Trip lifted his head as he watched me make my way toward him and Rachel. He’d come back home a few days ago and hadn’t left Rachel’s side since. Scratching his head when I got close, I tried not to shake my own when I got directly next to Rachel and she still hadn’t realized I was here.

She jumped a little when I cupped one of her cheeks in my hands but smiled and pressed her fingers gently into my chest when she looked up at me.

“Gotta go to work, Sour Patch.”

Her lips twitched, and her fingers trailed up the side of my neck and into my hair. “Be safe.”

I leaned in and kissed her neck, and then closer to her ear before whispering, “Always. I love you, Rachel.”

“Love you too.”

I’d barely gotten out the door before my phone was blaring the department’s ringtone. Looking down, I saw CHIEF on the screen and double-checked the time to make sure I wasn’t running late before answering.

“Yes, sir?”

“You headed toward the office, or do you have something that has you going straight to the streets?”

“I believe Gates and I are both going into the office first. There isn’t much we had planned out today.”

“Good, can you come see me as soon as you get in? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

I paused just a few feet from the driveway and squeezed my eyes tightly shut. “Both of us?”

“Just you.”

Shit. “Uh, of course. I’m leaving right now.”

“See you soon.”

I threw my leg over my Harley and tried not to overthink what I could be called in for. I’d gone against the department to find Rachel, and Mason and I had both already had three meetings with Chief and some of the detectives who had worked the case regarding that. Everyone had agreed that we wouldn’t be suspended or punished, but that still didn’t ease the fear of being called in to talk to Chief.

As soon as I was sitting in front of him, the fear left and was replaced by confusion when he placed a journal in an evidence bag on the desk.

“This was recovered from the building where they had been holding your fiancée.”

Rachel’s mention of writing to me floated through my mind, and I gripped the arms of the chair so I wouldn’t grab for it.

“It’s up to you if you tell her that we had to go through every entry in order to gain more information about the situation, but there’s nothing here for us. Nothing more than what she told the detectives when they interviewed her, and most are letters to loved ones about her fears. So I’m handing it over to you. She wrote a lot to you, but you know your fiancée, so it’s your call on whether you think you should read it or not. As well as if you should give it back to her. She might not want to have that reminder.”

Of course I want to fucking read it. “Thank you, Chief. I appreciate it. Was there anything else you needed to speak to me about?”

“One last thing now that we’re alone, Ryan. Completely off the record, and I’ll deny it if you repeat it.”

My lips twitched and I crossed my arms over my chest. Chief’s off-the-record-speeches were usually him venting about someone in the department, or his in-laws coming for a visit. And for the most part, they were funny as shit. The rest of the tension in my body melted away and I relaxed into the chair as I waited for him to begin.

“I don’t blame you for what you did. If it had been my wife, or any of my kids, I would have done whatever it took to find them and get them back. The moment you got into the police department, I made the decision to pull you off patrol and put you in the worst situations imaginable by having you as an undercover narcotics officer. The things you and Gates had to go through there, and what you had to do to survive with those people, has made you both the incredible detectives you are today. Unfortunately for me, and some of our other detectives, it made it so that you don’t feel the need to follow the law sometimes. They don’t understand, because they’ve all had to follow the law, but to be honest, we can’t ask for much else after what the both of you did for us over the course of those years. I guess I just want you to know that I think you did what you had to as a man. As one of my officers, I will always stand behind you for what you’ve done for our department, and our city.”

Completely unexpected. Mason and I had gotten off free, but Chief still hadn’t looked happy with either one of us during our previous meetings. I sat there speechless until Chief stood and offered out his hand. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

“All right now, there’s already too much of a bro-mance in this office as it is, I don’t need you getting all mushy on me too. Get your ass out of here and go get some work done.”

“Yes, sir. And thank you for this.” I raised the bagged journal in the air and slipped out the door.

Mason was already at his desk when I got there, and after filling him in, I sat at my own and tried to get some work done. But hours later, even after I’d moved the journal to a drawer so it wouldn’t be there in plain sight to tempt me, it was all I could think about. I looked over at Mason throwing a baseball above his head over and over again and finally opened the drawer.

“Jesus, about damn time. I couldn’t concentrate thinking about that thing.”

Looking up at Mase, I glared at him as he continued to throw the ball up. “You couldn’t concentrate? How do you think I felt?”

“I don’t know, but we really don’t have a reason to go on the streets unless there’s a call for something today. I’m just in here catching up on shit, and since all I can think about is that journal, crack it open and read it to me.”

“Mase, I’m not reading you Rachel’s journal.”

“Well I don’t want to hear her love letters to you. Just read me the rest.”

Like her entries to her parents? Uh, no. “If there’s anything like that, I’ll read it to you.”

I went through the entire journal, and let Mason read over my shoulder through the parts that I thought of as the “captive entries.” Each day she had pages where she wrote to her parents and me, and then pages of everything that had happened during the day. What she ate, what she drank, what she and Trent talked about. Like I said, captive entries.

Over three-quarters of the way through the journal, one of her entries to her parents suddenly stopped, and there was nothing after it. I sat back in my chair and folded my hands behind my head.

“Is there more for me to read?” Mason asked as he scooted his chair over to me.

“No, it’s done. It just cut off.”

We watched as the last quarter of the journal’s pages slowly fluttered over to the other side from the weight of the rest of the pages, and I lurched forward in my chair at the same time Mason harshly whispered, “Shit, is that blood?”

“What the hell?” I scanned through the last ten or so pages, which had smears of blood all over them, and came to a stop when I got to the last page. “Oh my God.”

“What? What’s on— Oh damn . . .” He trailed off when he saw the top of the page.

I read over the words on the last page and hung my head when Mason eventually took the journal from me so he could read the entire last page too.

“Are you going to show her?”

I rubbed at the back of my neck and looked over at him before shrugging. “I have to. I can’t keep that from her. She would hate me if she found out later.”

He nodded and tossed the closed journal on my desk. “I agree. Shit, I hope this doesn’t hurt the progress you’ve both had though.”

“Me too.” I breathed out heavily. This could change everything. “Me too.”

Rachel

MY EYES KEPT DRIFTING SHUT as Trip and I watched TV on the couch while we waited for Kash to come home. I’d spent almost the entire day outside, writing in my journal, and hadn’t noticed how much time had gone by until I realized it was dark outside. After a shower and quick snack, I’d curled up on the couch and hadn’t moved since.

I knew I needed to start living my life again—having an entire day slip by without realizing it had been proof—but I was so used to doing nothing that it was hard to think of doing something as simple as going out for coffee with Maddie. And, to be honest, a small part of me was terrified to leave the house. It was a ridiculous fear, seeing how I’d been taken from home, but at least here I didn’t feel so vulnerable. Out in the open, anyone could see me. I needed to change that, though. I couldn’t let fears of what had happened dictate the rest of my life, just like I hadn’t let what happened with Blake define me or how I lived in the months after.

The sound of Kash’s Harley echoed in the cul-de-sac, and Trip jumped off the couch to wait by the door for him to come in. I sat up when I heard him unlock the door, and the smile fell from my face when I noticed his careful expression.

“Hey, Rach. You have a good day?”

“I did. Are you okay? Something bad happen at work?”

“No, work was pretty calm. But I do need to talk to you.”

My body instantly tensed up as I waited for what was coming next. We’d been doing so well these last three weeks, so what was wrong now? Did this have to do with why he still refused to actually kiss me? Was I not getting better fast enough for him?

“Stop overthinking, I can see you freaking out already. I got called in to talk to Chief today, and I’m fine. My job is still safe, but he gave me something . . . and I’m about to give it to you.”

“Uh, okay?” That so hadn’t been where I thought that was about to go. I pulled my legs up on the couch to rest my chin on my knees, and waited until he got comfortable next to me.

“If you don’t want to see this, let me know, and I’ll make sure you don’t see it again. But, uh, well, they recovered this from your room at the house.” He held out the journal Trent had bought me, and my throat constricted as I reached out for it. “Before I give it back to you, I need you to know that I read it. I read the entire thing. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes, yeah of course I am. A lot of it was to you anyway, that’s fine.” I grabbed for it again, and he grabbed my hand instead, holding the journal away from me. I looked up at him, my face scrunched in confusion. “Why—”

“There’s something else. Something I’m positive you didn’t know about, and something I almost didn’t see myself. I read it also, and if you want to read it alone, I understand. Just know that I’m here for you, and you can talk to me about whatever you need to after reading it . . . okay?”

“I don’t . . . I don’t understand. Okay? I guess?” Why does he look so unsure of himself all of a sudden?

“Trent wrote you something in the back, Rachel. Do you want to read it?”

Trent wrote to me. He wrote to me! Not a day had gone by that I hadn’t thought about him, and what may be happening to him. And not a day had gone by that I hadn’t thanked God for him . . . for keeping me safe. Despite our last day together, and my confusion about my feelings for him, I still knew without a doubt that I wasn’t, and never had been, in love with him. He was my friend, and I owed him my life. I was still dealing with the guilt that he’d done all he’d promised, and I couldn’t keep my promises to him, but I knew that would take time to get past.

Looking up at Kash, I finally nodded my head and grabbed for the journal again. “I want to, but don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t, sweetheart.”

My chest ached when the blood-smeared pages came into view as Kash flipped to the last page in the journal while it sat in my hands. This had to have been done that last night . . . why hadn’t he told me? Looking up at Kash, I saw his eyes were on me and were full of nothing but understanding as he waited patiently for me. No jealousy. No insecurity. Just compassion as I gripped his hand like a lifeline and looked back down onto the page.

Rachel—

Is it twisted that I want to thank you for the time I’ve had with you? You’ve been nothing short of amazing throughout all of this, and I’m thankful for every moment. I know I’ve avoided answering you before, but I want to tell you why I stole you away in the first place.

It had nothing to do with you, but everything to do with the men you’re associated with. They’re good men, never doubt that; but by doing their job, and putting assholes like the leaders of my crew in prison, they put their lives on the line. And when you came into the picture, it put you in my hands.

We were going to use you as bait to get the leaders out, and it was my job to watch you . . . and eventually take you. Watching over you once you were here in this house had never been part of the plan, but after the four months of watching you day in and day out, I couldn’t leave you to fend for yourself here. As you’ve come to find out, I would do anything to keep you safe, and I won’t stop until I get you out of here.

What will happen after tonight, I’m already prepared for and know I deserve. But I want . . . no, need you to know, I never wanted this life. I would have done anything to stay away from it, and even more to get out of it. Sometimes we just don’t have a choice.

Because of who I am, and what I’ve done, I never thought I was meant to find love. Thank you for unintentionally showing me how wrong I was. Even though your heart belongs to him, loving you—even in secret—has changed my life. And if I die tomorrow, I’ll consider myself lucky to be able to die loving you.

Trent Cruz

I read his words three times before I finally shut the journal and fell into Kash’s arms. No tears came, but there was a soul-deep ache for my friend.

I hated the way he viewed himself, and his self-worth. As I had so many times over the last couple weeks, I wished he’d had another chance at life, one far away from all he had ever known. But to continue wishing he’d been given that chance wouldn’t change a thing. Everything in me wanted to visit him, and slap him across the face with the journal before throwing my arms around him, and hugging him tight. But with all that Kash and I were working toward right now, visiting Trent would just set us back. Maybe one day Kash and I would be in a place where I could visit Trent, but that time wasn’t now. I needed to keep moving on with my life with Kash, and, for now, I just needed to be thankful for everything Trent had done for me.

“You okay?”

I breathed in the cinnamon scent that clung to Kash from the gum he was always chewing, and fell deeper into his chest. “I will be.”

Kissing the top of my head, he leaned back so he was lying against the arm of the couch and I was on top of him, as he had so many times before, and waited a few minutes before asking, “Did you want to talk about it?”

“There’s not a lot to say. I feel bad for him, but know there’s nothing I can do. If anyone in that house was tortured, it was him. He hated who he was, and what he had become; he honestly didn’t see a way to get out of it, though. He has very dark eyes, but they’re really descriptive. It wasn’t hard to see how the years in the gang tormented him every day. All I’ve wanted for him was for that torture to go away.”

“Like he said in the letter, sometimes they don’t have a choice, Rachel. I don’t know why he was in it in the first place, but sometimes you’re recruited whether you want to be or not. Sometimes it’s about your blood family, and sometimes it’s because of a crime you’ve done. But to get out, Rach, it’s practically impossible to get out.”

I stilled against his chest, and he hurried to continue.

“I’m not telling you to upset you more. I’m just letting you know he was probably living the way he was in order to stay alive. From what you’ve told me, and from his letter, I’m sure you’re right, sweetheart. I’m sure he’s not a bad person deep down.”

“He really isn’t,” I unnecessarily argued in Trent’s defense.

Kash’s lips pressed down against my head, and he kept them there as he said, “I know. How could he be? He kept you safe and was trying to bring you back to me.”

I looked up into his gray eyes and searched them before asking, “So you believe me now? You don’t hate him anymore?”

“Well, he did admit in that letter that he was in love with you. You can’t expect me to really be okay with any man loving you.” His mouth curled up on one side in a smirk before his expression went back to serious. “But I do respect him, and I am thankful for him. It’s hard, knowing that he took you and he was the cause of that month from hell. Knowing that he was most likely forced into gang life, and that he was forced into doing what he did, I understand that all too well. Mason and I had to do a lot we aren’t proud of. There are some things that you still don’t know, and if you ever want to, I’ll tell you. But you have to be prepared for what you might find out . . . We had to live with them, and live like them. So because of that time in my life, I understand him in a sense, but only to an extent.

“What Mason and I did was for the betterment of the city, and while we had to do bad things, we were doing it with the knowledge that those men were all about to go away for a very long time and wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else again. With Trent, he didn’t have the satisfaction in the end that he was still helping people, until he met you. So I guess to answer your question, no, I don’t hate him. I can’t hate him because I understand him too well. There are some things that I wish hadn’t happened, but they did, and we’re moving on from them.”

I let my fingers run over the muscles of his chest and shoulders before making their way up to hold his face in my hands. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to smile or cry because I was so in love with this man, and so thankful for him. Instead I just continued to stare at him and finally whispered, “There are times when you know exactly what to say, and your words leave me speechless.”

“I’ve been known to make good speeches on Wednesdays.”

I huffed and grabbed a chunk of his hair before pulling on it. “Way to kill the mood, and it’s Thursday, you ass.”

His face remained serious as he said, “I’ve been known to make good speeches on Thursdays.”

Rolling my eyes, I started to push off the couch, but his arms caged in around my back and brought me back onto his chest.

“There are still times when I stop dead in my tracks when I see you, and wonder how you’re mine. You’re beautiful; and your fire for life, and strength after everything you’ve been through, amazes me. So if anyone leaves the other speechless, it’s you.”

My heart pounded in my chest and a smile broke across my face. I couldn’t have contained it even if I wanted to. “I love you, Logan Kash Ryan, and I’m so thankful for you.”

“Ditto, Sour Patch.”

I closed my eyes, shook my head, and laughed softly at his breathy words. Funny how I still hated that nickname, but my heart fluttered every time he said it. I hadn’t forgotten the longing to hear him say it again while I was with Trent, because I knew hearing him say it meant seeing him again. And I knew that no matter how ridiculous it was, I would never complain about it again.

“Rachel, open your eyes.”

As soon as my eyes fell on his, he sat up and pressed his lips to mine for the first time since my second morning back home. A high-pitched moan rose up the back of my throat before I relaxed into his body and returned the long-awaited kiss that he’d saved for the perfect moment.

His lips moved slowly against mine, and soon his tongue was parting my mouth and teasing my own. A collective sigh filled the silent space between us, and his full lips tilted up in a smile before he captured my mouth again. I moved my legs so I was straddling his hips, and dug my knees into the couch as I deepened the kiss. My hands wove their way through his messy hair to hold his face to mine, and his hands on my back trailed down my body until they landed on my hips to press our bodies closer together.

Kash placed openmouthed kisses down my jaw and throat, and I let my head fall back as I rocked against him. Goose bumps covered my skin and the softest of moans sounded in my chest at the friction I’d been craving. I rocked over where he was straining against his jeans, and my eyes rolled back when he gently bit down on my throat.

“Kash . . .”

He released my hips and grabbed my cheeks to bring my lips down to his again, and I sat up and reached in between us, grabbing at the buckle on his belt. I’d just gotten it undone, and was grabbing for the button when his hands wrapped around my wrists and moved them above our heads.

“Why—”

“Just this for now.” He let go of my hands and pushed me back an inch so he could look in my eyes. “Trust me, I want every part of you. But with what we’ve had to overcome the last few weeks, I’m not going to rush that. Just like we didn’t rush anything else.”

Some small part of me could understand what he was saying, but I was wearing the thinnest cotton shorts known to man, and with each ragged breath in, I was slowly losing the last bit of control I had.

“Rachel, I’m saying the words . . . but if you don’t get off me soon, I’m not going to be following through with them.”

I looked directly into his eyes and ground my body against his, and the sexiest growl I’ve ever heard from him left his lips. “Then don’t follow through.”

“Sonofabitch,” he whispered through gritted teeth and his fingers flexed against the skin between my shirt and shorts. “Rach, no. I— Shit.” He sat us up and gently pushed me back so I was no longer on his lap. “Rachel, you still shut yourself in the closet when you change; and when I start to do the same, you leave the room. I don’t want you to force yourself to change that now, but I know you’re not ready yet, and that’s okay.”

Sitting back, I pulled my knees up to my chest and stopped immediately after my head began shaking. Oh God, I do shut the door. “I just, I never had privacy . . .”

“Rachel, I get it. It’s fine, but just trust me to know when you’re ready again, okay?”

Looking back into his stormy gray eyes, I gave him a small smile and nodded. “All right.”

He kissed me hard and rested his forehead against mine. “But now I need to go take a really cold shower. So I’ll be back . . . in a while.”

I laughed and snuck in another kiss before pushing him away. “Go, I’ll make pancakes.”

He stopped midstep and turned to face me. “You’re perfect.”

“I know.”

His eyes slowly ran over the length of my body when I stretched out on the couch, and I watched as his eyes got hooded, an unmistakable desire hitting them.

“Shower, Kash.”

“Right . . . uh, I’ll be back.”

I waited for a few minutes before letting my fingers run over the hardwood until they hit the used journal. Picking it up, I opened the cover and carefully worked back the binding until I felt the paper hidden inside. I never had gotten around to telling Kash about this in my entries to him. By the time I’d felt like I was in danger again, I couldn’t get to my journal. Unfolding the paper, I let my eyes fall over the tear-stained letter before shutting the journal, placing it on the coffee table, and leaving the note on top.

Day 1 with journal

Kash—

If you’ve found this, and I’m with you, then you know that I love you, and let me take this time to remind you that I will love you with everything that I am for the rest of our lives. I hope that by now I’m getting tired of hearing the name Sour Patch again, but, please, don’t ever stop calling me that. No matter how much I say I hate it, it reminds me of when we first met, and I love those memories.

I hope we’re already fighting again. Couples are afraid to fight with each other, but fighting with you is one of the things I miss the most. You drive me crazy, and I know you push my buttons on purpose, but you also don’t put up with my bullshit, and that’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with you.

Knowing you, I’m probably making you pancakes as you read this. And I guarantee you I’m already tired of those, but I’ll continue to make them as long as I can continue eating your green Sour Patch Kids.

But . . . if you’re finding this, and I’m gone, please know that I loved you fiercely up until the very end. I know you did everything to try and find me, don’t blame yourself for any of this, because I don’t blame you. Take care of Trip, and take care of yourself. Don’t be afraid to fall in love again, I can’t stand to think of you spending the rest of your life alone. Love her as much as you’ve loved me, and I pray the woman knows how lucky she is to have a man like you by her side.

. . . I know you, Kash; you come in and save the day at the last minute . . . so I’ll be here, waiting for you at the “last minute.” But no matter what happens, Logan Kash Ryan, you’re still my hero.

I love you.

Always.

—Rachel