Deceiving Lies

7

Kash

“WELL WHAT ARE THEY DOING to try and find her? How are they going to get her back? Will those men in prison say anything? Will they give any type of hints? How could you wait two days to tell us about something like this, Logan? How could you keep this from us?!”

“Marcy, stop.” My dad cupped Mom’s shoulders and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

I rested my head in my hand and propped my elbow up on the granite counter as they spoke softly back and forth to each other. Well, Dad spoke softly. Mom was borderline hysterical and getting louder by the minute.

“She’s been through enough! That poor girl has been through enough!”

“Marcy, sweetheart, why don’t you go lie back down and—”

“No! No, we need to go find her, we need to call the news station, and we need to get people looking for her!”

“There are a lot of people doing everything they can . . .” Their voices slowly faded as Dad pulled her out of the kitchen and I just sat there, staring.

Not really seeing anything. Not really thinking anything. And sure as shit not feeling a damn thing. I was numb. I didn’t even remember driving to Mom and Dad’s, actually, I didn’t even know if I’d driven or walked. I just remembered seeing Dad’s face as he opened the door for me near five this morning, and finally telling him and Mom everything that had happened. I’d spent so long doing jobs where I couldn’t tell them anything, that a part of me had been subconsciously rebelling against telling them; whereas the other part had finally realized that I was keeping it from them, and I couldn’t continue to.

Chief was forcing me to take the week off. I’d spent all day and night yesterday going over everything I remembered from Mason’s and my time with Juarez, and coming up empty. I hadn’t slept, I couldn’t remember if I’d eaten or not, and I felt like I was going insane with trying to make connections to other gangs that I knew weren’t there. If I didn’t get Rachel back soon, I was going to lose my goddamn mind.

Dad breathed heavily through his nose as he sat down on the barstool next to me. For a long time we both just sat there without saying anything. Eventually he got up, made coffee, and sat back down after placing a mug in front of me as well.

“She’s not mad at you, you know. Your mom, that is. She’s just scared.”

“I know.”

“Are, uh . . . shit, Logan. I don’t even know what to say. I want to ask if you’re going to be okay, but I wouldn’t want someone asking me that.” He set down his coffee mug and lifted both his hands in the air before letting them flop down onto the counter. “I just can’t believe this is happening. This doesn’t seem real; this is something you see in movies, and on TV shows. It’s something you read about in the newspapers, but you never think about it happening to your family.”

“This is my reality. This happens all the time in my job, but it wasn’t supposed to happen to her. I caused this, Dad—”

“No, Logan, don’t start going down that—”

I dropped my arm and looked up at him, noticing for the first time the redness and fear in his eyes. “But I did! My job, what I’ve done . . . that is why she’s gone.”

“I’m not going to let you put blame on yourself for this. I had to watch you blame yourself for what happened to her back in Texas when you did everything you could to prevent it. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Logan. It’s not your fault; none of it is your fault. Blaming yourself is only going to make it harder, it’s only going to cause you to go down a path that is dangerous for you.”

I snorted. I was pretty sure I’d already been up and down that path a few times.

He rested a hand on my shoulder and waited until I was looking at him again. “I’m serious. This is going to be a difficult time for all of us, but especially for you. We’ll be here for you every step of the way. We’re all hurting, we’re all scared for her, but no one other than the people who took her are to blame. All right?”

My eyes squeezed shut as my head fell back into my hand, and I took a deep breath in and out without responding. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t agree with him.

“I saw what happened to you before, and I see what’s happening to you now. I know you’re hurting, son. I know”—he choked out and his hand tightened—“and I can’t imagine what this is like for you, but we can’t lose you too.”

The air in my lungs left in a heavy rush, and when I blinked my eyes back open, I watched as tears dropped onto the counter. I hated that he was talking about her like she wouldn’t be back.

Rachel would be back.

I needed her back.

LOOKING AROUND THE OFFICE a few hours later, I wondered where the other detectives were as I quietly made my way toward my desk. If anyone aware of the situation were to see me, I knew they would make me leave. But I needed to look up records on Juarez and his boys that would be inaccessible from anywhere else, so I was willing to risk the suspension that would be coming for me if Chief found out. Turning the corner, I stopped midstep when I saw Mason hunched in on himself at his desk, his entire frame shaking and tense.

“Mase?”

His hands dropped from his face to hang between his knees, and he lifted his head like it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. When he turned to look at me, my day of going in circles with my parents quickly fell from my mind. Fear gripped my chest, my legs felt like they would give out on me at any moment, and I felt hot and cold all at the same time.

“Kash, you know you can’t be here right now,” he choked out.

“What—what happened? Why are you crying?” I knew that whatever had him looking like he wanted to die had to do with Rachel, I knew it to my core. I’d never once, in the years I’d known Mason, seen him cry.

Heavy tears fell down his cheeks, and I watched as his face crumpled before he burst into strained sobs.

I stumbled back until I hit a wall and fell down it as I waited for him to say words that I didn’t want to hear . . . couldn’t hear. It felt like my heart was being torn from my chest as I watched Mason struggle to speak. As the minutes passed, my dread began turning into a sorrow unlike anything I’d ever felt before, but no tears came. I was in shock and having trouble breathing. This couldn’t be happening, she couldn’t be gone.

“We’ll find her, Kash, I swear,” Mason choked out, and my head snapped back up to find him looking at me. “I swear to God we’ll find her before they can do anything else to her.”

“She’s alive?” I whispered, and hope surged through me before his words sank in. “What happened?”

“You’re not supposed to know anything, you’re supposed to stay completely separated from the case.”

“I don’t give a—”

“But if the roles were reversed, I would hate you for not telling me.” With one hand he wiped the wetness away from his eyes as the other reached over to his desk to grab something, before standing and walking slowly to me. Dropping to his knees, he handed over a folder and I hesitantly grabbed for it.

Flipping the top open, I pulled out the blown-up photograph and swallowed back bile before the tears started to fall down my face. An anguished cry burst from my lips and my hands gripped my hair after I dropped the folder and paper to the ground.

Mason put a hand on my shoulder, and spoke softly. “They called, they didn’t even ask if there was progress . . . they already knew there wasn’t any. They have to be in contact with Juarez or one of the guys, so the department is checking every call and visitor they’ve had. You could—” He paused, and the hand that was gripping my shoulder began shaking. “You could hear her screaming in the background, Kash, and they said they’d call back in another two days. This picture was sent an hour later. They had our techs working on it, trying to track it through the server, but these guys know what they’re doing. It just kept coming to a dead end.”

Another tortured cry left me, and I brought my knees to my chest as my head shook back and forth. “God, Rachel, I’m so sorry—I’m so damn sorry. We have to find her, Mase.”

The picture was burned into my mind, so much that even after I closed my eyes, it was still all I could see. Three of Rachel’s severed fingers. One still had the engagement ring that I’d put on it a few months before. The bright purple color she always wore on her nails a dead giveaway that they were, indeed, her fingers.

“We will, I swear we will. Byson is questioning Juarez again—”

I didn’t wait for him to say anything else. I pushed him back and scrambled to my feet, already running toward the interview rooms.

Mason barked out my name, but I kept going. I passed the first two open rooms, and just as I was approaching the third door, it opened and Byson stepped out, looking down at his notepad.

Hearing my approach, his head snapped up, and his eyes widened. “Ryan! What the hell—”

Shoving past him, I kicked the closing door back open before slamming it shut and locking it, and came face-to-face with Juarez for the first time in almost a year.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he sneered as I approached him.

“Where is she?” Slamming my hands down on the table, I leaned over it as I yelled, “Tell me!”

“You expect me to know what you’re talking about?”

I would have thrown the table if it weren’t bolted down to the floor. Rounding it, I went over to where Juarez was sitting and kicked his chair back into the wall.

“Don’t fuck with me, Juarez!” Stalking over to him, I gripped the arms of the chair he was cuffed to and leaned in so my face was directly in front of his. “Tell me where my goddamn fiancée is!”

His only answer was a sardonic smile.

“Tell me or I swear to God I will make your death slow and painful,” I growled.

“You mean like Rachel’s?” Juarez whispered.

I punched him, and grabbed the collar of his gray prison shirt to bring him closer to me. “I will end you, you son of a bitch! Where the fuck is she?” I was so far gone—my mind only on finding Rachel and making every one of the sick bastards involved in her kidnapping pay for what they’d done to her—that I didn’t even register what the yelling outside the room was about until I was being dragged away from Juarez.

“Kash, calm down,” Mason grunted as I struggled to get away from him and Byson as they pulled me back.

“Tell me where she is!”

Another mocking smile crossed Juarez’s face, and my frustrated roar filled the room.

“I will make you pay for everything that has happened to her!”

“Enough!” Mason yelled as they threw me out of the room.

I turned to go back in, but Mason slammed me against the wall and restrained me by pinning my arms behind my back.

“Kash, don’t make me put cuffs on you,” he said low. “You have got to calm down. I know you’re upset, man, I know. But you’re ruining your career, and making it worse for Rachel by doing this.”

“He knows where she is,” I gritted out, the adrenaline quickly leaving my body. “He fucking knows, Mase. He said her name!”

“Ryan! Gates!”

I turned, and my body sagged against the wall when I saw Chief standing there.

“My office. Now.”

Mason swore under his breath as he pulled me from the wall and kept my arms behind my back as he walked us toward Chief’s office. Byson was already waiting for us in there, and when Chief sat down at his desk, I knew I was about to lose my job.

WALKING SLOWLY, like I was expecting a bomb to go off if I made any noise, I stepped into the bedroom that just ten days ago had been destroyed. That just ten days ago had had a message about why they’d taken Rachel on one of the walls. That just ten days ago was considered a crime scene and had been full of officers. That just ten days ago Rachel had been taken from.

I hadn’t been in here since that day, but since then Maddie, and Mason, and my mom had come in to clean the disaster that had been left over, and paint the wall. The TV was gone—I hadn’t seen a need to replace it, since I hadn’t wanted to come back here—and so were the mirror and lamps; but other than that, there weren’t any signs that anything had ever happened.

Except one.

Rachel was still fucking gone.

The department hadn’t gotten any closer to finding her, and even though Chief had been considerate enough to give me only unpaid time off for the rest of the week . . . I was still doing things every day that were sure to get me fired at the very least. I just made sure that everything was away from the department, and that no one other than Mason knew what I was up to.

Although he had strict orders not to, Mason had kept me updated on everything about the case, and I would always be thankful to him for that. But I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

It’d been ten days and already I felt like I was dying from what I had seen and heard. I didn’t know how Rachel was still pushing through the torture we’d seen her go through. I didn’t know how she was even still alive. And when I got her back—because I was getting her back—I didn’t know what would be left of her fiery spirit I’d fallen in love with.

Putting Trip down on the floor, I watched him take off for the bathroom and followed him into the master closet. He went right to the fake wall and began crying, and for some stupid reason, something dangerously close to hope actually sprang up in me. I tentatively reached out toward the wall, a harsh huff escaping my chest when my fingers were just inches away, and I paused.

I’m fucking crazy. She’s not going to be in there.

Shaking my head, I reached out to grab it, and yanked it back. Trip ran in, and my hand fisted around the thin material as the worst type of disappointment washed away any form of hope I may have had.

I’d known she wouldn’t be in there. I’d known, but I’d still let myself believe that by some miracle, she would.

“She’s not here, bud, come on.”

Letting the wall fall back into place, I walked into the bedroom and stared at the bed for a handful of minutes before finally sitting on the edge. Bending over, I rested my elbows on my knees, and my head in my hands—and groaned out the last week and a half’s frustrations, devastations, and heartaches.

Exhaustion finally took over my body, and without even taking off my shoes, shirt, or jeans . . . I lay back on the bed and automatically rolled over to face Rachel’s side. My heavy eyelids blinked as I looked at the empty space beside me . . . nothing about that was right.

Most nights I couldn’t even sleep, the only times I did were when my body literally couldn’t go from the stress and exhaustion anymore. I hated sleeping without her, and I hated sleeping knowing I could be using that time to try to find her. But what I hated most was waking up without her. Not only was it a cold reminder of what she was going through, but it also just felt wrong.

I wish I could hold you.

I wish I could tell you how much I love you.

I wish I could hear your laugh.

I just wish I knew that I would see you again.

You can’t leave me now, Rachel. We’re about to get married. We’re going to have a family someday. We’re going to get old and fat together.

Wherever you are, Rachel, whoever has you, and whatever is being done to you. Know that God can’t stop me from finding you, and bringing you back to me.

I will hold you again, and I’ll never let you go.

Gripping her side of the comforter in my fingers, I breathed out her name and surrendered to the exhaustion.