Deceiving Lies

It didn’t.

And sleep didn’t come easy.

I lay there awake for hours, watching the glow from the sun behind the curtains eventually fade to darkness. I heard Logan come to check on me once, but it sounded like he hadn’t gotten past the doorway before stopping, and after a few seconds, turning and leaving. When I finally did fall asleep, I did it alone, and woke the same.

The fact that being alone went so much deeper than physical, made the pain intensify.

I missed Trent and was terrified for him. I needed my fiancé. I wanted my life to go back to normal.

I knew I wouldn’t get the first back, and hated that I wasn’t sure about the others.

Kash

I GROANED, and my eyes blinked open when the persistent knocking finally woke me. Putting my feet on the floor, I pushed off the couch and stretched my sore body from sleeping on the deceptively comfortable-looking couch. Checking the peephole, I let out a harsh breath and hung my head as I unlocked and opened the door.

“You have a key, Mason.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to use it if you were actually spending time with your fiancée, now that your fiancée is back from a fucking traumatic experience that your fiancée just went through. You know, because she’s your fiancée and all.”

“Say fiancée one more time.” I squinted my eyes at him. “Mom and Dad call you?”

He huffed roughly through his nose and pushed me back so he could fit in through the door. “Duh. You look like shit, so I’m guessing I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Wow, thank you. Would you like to insult me some more before I kick you out of my—”

“The couch?” he interrupted. “You slept on the couch? Please tell me that was by her request.”

Knowing he wouldn’t leave until he felt like it, I walked back over to my makeshift bed and sat down. “No, it wasn’t. I haven’t talked to her since we got back here.”

“And why is that?”

“Because she went to sleep after her shower. What did you want me to do? Wake her up so we could talk about her time away? About Trent?” I snarled and rubbed at my jaw.

“Yeah, sure, why the hell not? Why not ask her how she’s doing, ask if she’s fucking okay!”

Looking behind me, I listened for sounds from her and, when I didn’t get any, turned back to Mason. “She’s still sleeping, keep it down. And I’m sure she’s not okay, she was kidnapped and held for over a month. Who would be okay after that?”

“So then talk to her about it!”

“I can’t, Mase, okay? I can’t.”

He paced back and forth in the living room and finally stopped directly in front of me. “Why? Why can’t you? She needs you. I saw how she acted yesterday too, I watched the entire interview last night. I also know the sexual assault exam came back negative! Maybe he really was trying to help her, and she clung to that. Did you ever think about that?”

“Why would he after taking her?”

“Ask her yourself, since Chief told me you didn’t stay for the entire interview. But think about it, Kash . . . We were in gangs and helped some girls escape too. Did that never once cross your mind yesterday?”

I wanted to argue that we hadn’t kissed them. But we’d always had to do whatever was necessary to make our story believable for the gang we were in. My eyes shot up to Mason’s, and he gave a sad laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“God, you’re so dense sometimes. I believe Rachel’s story, I don’t think he was an undercover, but I wouldn’t doubt for a second that he didn’t want to be in Juarez’s gang. I’ll admit, seeing her with him was weird, but you need to think about the whole situation. I don’t know what it is about her, but you seem to forget everything when it comes to her.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Mason?”

He started ticking off points on his fingers. “We think she’s been raped and you automatically want to kill anyone that’s come near her before we even know for sure that it happened. The guy that raped her, and that she was terrified of, forces her to leave you . . . and you just automatically believe that she was really lying to you the entire time and wanted to be with him. A guy that has protected her in captivity kisses her right before they thought they were entering a suicide mission, and without a second thought you think she didn’t want to be rescued anymore?”

I really need to stop telling Mom and Dad what I’m thinking. They always fucking tell Mason.

“She’s been missing for thirty-six days and underwent some pretty shitty things from what I heard in the interview, and she goes to bed early and you take that as a cue to sleep on the couch?”

I groaned into my hands and sagged into the back of the couch. “Mase—”

“You know I love you like a brother. You know I trust you with my life. You’re one of the smartest guys I know, and not just when it comes to our job. But when it comes to your future wife you are dumb as shit.”

“Tell me, why is it that you’re the dumbest guy I know, and you’re always the one trying to show me how stupid I’m being?”

A cocky smirk crossed Mason’s face and he shrugged before turning toward the front door. “It’s because I’m fucking awesome, bro. Go make sure she’s okay.”

“I can’t get the sight of them kissing out of my head,” I admitted.

“There’s a lot of shit we will never get out of our heads, Kash. Don’t let this one ruin the best thing you’ve ever had.” He opened the front door and looked back at me one more time. “You should really watch the entire interview. What we saw yesterday wasn’t a normal occurrence for them.”

I watched as he walked out the front door, and I leaned forward, putting my elbows on my knees, and my head in my hands. I knew he was right. It didn’t make any of this easier though.

Mason had taken this case about as hard as I had, and he’d seen every part of it just the same as me . . . but it wasn’t the same for him. He wasn’t in love with Rachel, he hadn’t been pla

So different.

Still, I knew I had reacted the wrong way yesterday. I should have tried to understand, I should have just been there for her. I should have sat down and listened to her side when detectives weren’t interviewing her. And I should have fucking held her last night. She was finally back and I didn’t even try to be near her. I’m such a dick.

Standing quickly, I walked down the hall, toward the closed bedroom door. I raised my arm to knock before I realized how fucking ridiculous that was and just opened the door. The bed was empty, so I walked into the bathroom and called out her name. When I didn’t get a response and didn’t find her in the bathroom or the closet, fear surged through my veins and I ran back into the bedroom calling after her.

“Rachel! Rach!” This isn’t fucking happening. “Rachel!”

I’d just started to turn to run back to the living room in search of my phone to call 9-1-1 when I saw the paper and ring sitting on the nightstand. My stomach dropped and I stared at the nightstand for a few moments before I could force myself over to it. Grabbing Rachel’s engagement ring, I fisted my hand around it and tried to make sense of the words on the paper.

I understand, and I don’t blame you. I’m sorry.

“Understand what?” I whispered to the empty room.

The sound of pounding feet on the hardwood had me turning just as Rachel entered the room.

“Where the hell were you?” I yelled across the small space.

She flinched back into the wall near the doorjamb and her eyes darted around the room as her mouth opened and shut. “I-I-I, um . . .”

“Rachel, you can’t disappear like that after what we just went through, okay? Fuck!” I stalked over to her and for the first time in over a month, I brought my mouth down onto hers. “I thought—Jesus Christ, I thought you were gone again,” I choked out and started to kiss her but stopped abruptly when I realized she was cringing into the wall. “What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” I took a step back but kept the hand that wasn’t clenched around the ring on her waist.