Forgiving Lies fl-1 Read online

  “Candice said what? No, I was definitely not waiting for you; I drove myself here. That should be obvious, since you’re parked next to my Jeep.” I didn’t know what was going on, but I wanted to get out of there and away from him. Now.

  “Yeah, but your car isn’t starting. Which is why I’m here.” He said every word slowly, like I was a child or something. “Don’t you remember, Rachel? You called her almost three hours ago, but she was busy, so you told her to call me. Are you feeling okay? Come on, get in the car. I’ll get you back to your room.”

  “I am not getting in your car, I’ll drive myself back!” With that I took the last few steps to my car, got in, locked the door, and put the key in the ignition. I turned it but nothing happened. There wasn’t even a click. What had happened to my car? I knew I hadn’t called Candice. And even then, if I’d wanted Blake to pick me up I would have called him myself. Someone tapped on the window and even though I knew who it was, I still jumped.

  “Come on, Rach, this is dumb. Just get in the car and I’ll take you back. I’ll get your car towed in a couple hours.”

  There was no point in trying to call someone else. It was two in the morning, everyone was asleep, and I definitely couldn’t walk back at this hour. I grimaced and opened the door.

  “That’s my girl. Come on, let’s go.” He helped me into his car, then got in beside me. This time he didn’t put his hand on my thigh.

  The short drive to the dorm seemed to take forever, and besides his asking me a few times if I was feeling all right, there was no conversation. Blake seemed genuinely concerned about me. Had I called Candice? Did I just forget about everything while I was writing to my parents? Is that why I went in to write to them in the first place? Maybe all the studying mixed with my caffeine high, which was turning into a major crash, had my mind all jumbled. I must have just forgotten. It would have been easy to grab my phone and check the recent call history, but something inside me tightened and I knew it would be the wrong thing to do. We finally reached the dorm, and just like that morning, Blake parked in the lot. Aces.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked for the fifth time since we’d gotten in the car. “You freaked when you saw me.”

  “I’m fine, really, don’t worry about me. I probably just forgot and lost track of time in there.” I tried to make my smile convincing; I didn’t want him to walk me to my room. I got out of the car, ducked my head back in to thank him, and saw he was getting out too. Crap.

  “You don’t really think I’m going to let you walk up there by yourself, do you?”

  “Of course not,” I muttered. “I was just trying to be polite. It’s late and you’ve already been waiting on me for hours . . . apparently.”

  He just laughed as he walked toward me, put his arm around my waist, and led me to my room. When we got there he reached out to open the door for me; at least the good-bye would be quick. But my happiness was short-lived; he walked me into the empty room and then turned to shut and lock the door behind us.

  “Where’s Candice?” I couldn’t stop my voice from shaking. How weird that just Thursday I’d spent hours alone with him in this room and had felt comfortable and enjoyed my time with him. But now, being in here with him felt . . . wrong.

  “She didn’t tell you when you talked? All she told me was she was busy,” he said a little too innocently.

  I turned to face the room again to see if her cell was around; if it wasn’t I was going to call her immediately. Before I could find—or hopefully not find—her phone, Blake came up behind me and began kissing the back of my neck.

  “Uh, Blake? Can you not do that right now? I need to find out where Candice is.”

  Instead of stopping, he turned me around, pushed me up against my wardrobe, and resumed his place on my neck. I tried pushing him back, but it was useless. The guy was a rock and he wasn’t budging.

  “She’ll be back when she’s ready to come back,” he breathed between kisses and little bites.

  Well, I wasn’t about to wait for that to happen. I wanted him out of my room now. “Okay, I’m really ti—”

  He quickly moved up to my lips, shutting me up, and his kisses became rough and possessive. Just as they’d been that morning, only these weren’t lasting three seconds. We were close enough to the door that he reached out to flip off the lights and caught me around my waist again before I could take advantage of the break in his strong hold. He started backing me up toward the bed, and I pushed as hard as I could against the hand holding my head in place. His only response was to push against me harder. My bed was high enough that it hit at the small of my back and helped me stay standing when he tried to push me down. When I didn’t immediately fall onto the bed, he pulled my head back to look at me, giving me the break I needed.

  “You need to leave. Now!” My arms had been caught between us, but with the new space I put them against his chest and tried to push him back farther. Instead of moving away, he got a smile that turned my body to ice and my arms to Jell-O. This is what I imagined a crazy person looked like.

  “You don’t mean that,” he growled as he pulled my face back to his.

  Did he really think I was just playing hard to get? I wanted him off me! He let go of my waist and began searching for the bottom of my shirt, but even though my waist was free I still couldn’t move; I was caught between him and the bed. When he found it he didn’t waste time traveling up to grab my chest. I could feel him getting excited and it made me want to throw up. His lips moved back to my neck.

  “Please. Stop.” I hated how small my voice sounded.

  “This would be over sooner if you’d just lie down and shut up.”

  Grabbing both sides of my waist, he lifted me onto the bed, pushed me down, and climbed on top of me. I tried to tell him to stop again, but nothing was coming out except for my rapid breathing. My body was shaking violently and I was dangerously close to hyperventilating. He bit my bottom lip, causing me to gasp enough that he could slide his tongue into my mouth. Blake’s knees were pinning my legs to the bed and I bucked my hips and pushed against his shoulders, but he still didn’t move. He gathered both my wrists in one hand and pinned them above my head. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes. I tried to move my head to the side so I could scream for help but he moved with me as he thrust his tongue in my mouth over and over again. I froze for all of five seconds before biting down on his tongue as hard as I could. He flew back with a pained cry and I tasted blood in my mouth. I was going to throw up. Before I could scream, his free hand slammed down on my throat and his face was directly above mine again. He growled as his blue eyes turned to ice and he just stared at me as I gasped for air.

  “You’re going to regret doing that, sweetheart.” My vision blurred from my tears; the outer edges were turning black as I struggled to stay conscious.

  Blake’s breathing deepened and the look that crossed his painfully handsome face terrified me. My mouth opened and shut, but I couldn’t pull in any air and I couldn’t make a sound. My arms gave up their fight seconds before my bucking hips did the same, and soon I could hardly focus on Blake at all. I prayed that someone would come and save me as the hand that had been holding my hands down on the mattress slid down and cupped me through my thin yoga pants.

  I felt his hot breath on my ear. “I’ll make sure you never want to fight me again, Rachel.”

  The hand that was cupping me went up and slid under my pants and underwear. I tried to roll away but it was taking everything in me to stay awake. Tears spilled over and fell down my cheeks. Just as my mind started shutting down, the hand clasped around my throat was gone and I began gasping for air.

  Waves of dizziness washed over me, and the blackness slowly faded away. I heard the distinct sound of his zipper over my gasps and sobs and my head shook slowly back and forth. I felt like I was underwater and couldn’t find my way to the surface. His hand closed around my throat again and I frantically tried to pull in air and claw at his hand, bu
t it was useless. My arms lost function quickly and the edges of my vision were going black again, and I begged the darkness to come quicker when he began moving inside me. I didn’t want to be conscious through what he was doing. I didn’t want to remember this. The sweet numbness began claiming me, and at that moment, the most beautiful sound in the world came from outside the door.

  Candice’s voice.

  Blake was off the bed and putting himself back in his shorts in seconds while I wildly tried to take in as much oxygen as possible. He roughly pulled my pants up just as the key could be heard in the lock and took the few steps toward the door to flip the light on before coming back to my side. When the door opened, Blake was standing at the side of my bed looking down at me. The light brush of his fingers over my throat and his solid glare were clearly a warning. But I was still on the verge of fainting, now from trying too roughly to inhale.

  Candice said good-bye to whomever she’d been talking to as she shut the door. “Oh, hey, cuz! I didn’t mean to—” Blake turned to look at her and Candice’s eyes went wide when she saw me. “Oh my God, Rachel, are you okay?!”

  She rushed over to me, but Blake touched her arm and pulled her away. “She was attacked by a couple guys outside Starbucks tonight. She called me about half an hour ago. She’s in shock but she’ll be okay.”

  “What?!” Candice screamed, and tears instantly filled her eyes.

  What? No. No, no, no. My head shook back and forth as I choked on a sob and my breathing got even faster and heavier. I tried to tell her that was wrong, that he was lying, but all that came out was the ragged sound of my breathing.

  I could see Candice and Blake’s mouths moving, but I couldn’t hear anything else. Everything tilted to the side and the blackness came back full force. I reached out for Candice but missed her arm as the dark claimed me.

  3

  Kash

  “DO YOU KNOW what we’re being pulled in for?”

  I glanced over at Mason like he’d missed the massive pink elephant in the room. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe if you hadn’t punched Juarez in the face . . .” I trailed off.

  “That little piece of shit spit on me with his meth saliva! You expect me to let that go?”

  “Not like it was the first time you’ve been spit on.”

  “He’d just taken a hit not even ten minutes before!”

  “Mason.” I shook my head as I held my badge up so we could get into the locked doors. “The dude was so strung out he couldn’t stay standing and he was in cuffs.” As soon as we were in the door, I smiled at the ladies behind the plate-glass windows and continued back to Chief’s office. “Not to mention the guy is so thin he gives a new meaning to the phrase skin and bones and you look like you’re on steroids.”

  “Whatever, for what we put up with from him and his crew for the last six months, he deserved it.”

  “And that’s probably why we’re here. Swear to God, Mase. If you get me put behind a desk for this shit, I’ll hate you for life.”

  He snorted nonchalantly, but I could tell the thought of being a desk bitch instead of on the streets terrified him. “You can’t hate me for more than a day. Who would feed you?”

  “Oh, I’d still make you feed me. I’d just hate you.” We got to Chief’s door and we both stopped to collect ourselves. I looked over at my best friend and work partner and clapped his shoulder. “Ready to see what your latest fuckup has gotten us?”

  “Fuck you, Kash,” he sneered, but he was fighting a smile.

  Mason and I had met while going through the police academy, and for some genius—or more likely stupid—reason they’d partnered us not long after we’d both gotten hired on at Tampa Bay Police Department. We had barely gotten out of our time with our different field-training officers and been put on patrol before we were partnered up and moved to a whole new scene of TBPD: the undercover narcotics division. And I promise you, it’s not as exciting as it sounds or looks on TV.

  With my half sleeves of tattoos, and with Mason looking like a ’roided-out freak, Chief thought we’d be perfect for it. And though we liked to complain about it, I could say for both of us that we loved what we did. Not that what we did was something either of our families were okay with, but it was our job, and one that a lot of cops didn’t want. In the last three and a half years of being undercover, we’d successfully taken down three different major suppliers in the Tampa Bay area. Mason and I didn’t break down doors or run in with the SWAT team to do drug busts. We were the ones who had to be manhandled and cuffed and put in the back of cars until everyone involved in that drug ring was hauled away. Only then were we let out and able to lead the rest of the officers to where all the goods and money were. That way our cover was never blown.

  Until now.

  We’d never gotten in with a crew faster than we did with Juarez’s, and we’d also never taken one down as fast. But as soon as our guys burst in, we realized why. We’d never fooled Juarez for a second and his boys had guns drawn on Mason and me the minute the door flew open. Thank God they’d all just taken hits and weren’t coherent enough to get shots off before they were taken down, which led to Juarez spitting in Mason’s face and Mason breaking his nose in return. And that leads us to now.

  Mason knocked, and after a quick murmur from the other side of the door, he let us in. Once we were seated, I knew our days infiltrating drug dealers were over. The look on Chief’s face said it all.

  “He was cuffed, Gates.” Chief spoke low to Mason, but Mason knew better than to reply yet. “Man was cuffed, and you punched him in the face. You have ruined not only your undercover career but Ryan’s as well.” He gestured toward me. “Wanna tell me your side of the story, gentlemen?”

  “Cover was already blown. They knew; they all had guns pointed at our heads the minute the narcotics team busted down the door,” Mason answered, and I nodded my agreement. My heart still raced when I thought about that moment.

  Our jobs meant living with scum and dealing with drugs, lots of money, and idiots who had no idea how to handle weapons on a daily basis. But yesterday morning had been the first time in our three different takedowns that I was scared for my life. Our guys knew not to ever hurt Mason or myself, no matter what was going down. And we knew how to stay out of the way and help them out if a bust resulted in gunfire. But to have five guns drawn on you by meth heads was another thing all in itself.

  “So, because your cover was blown, you felt it appropriate to punch him. He’s lawyered up and is going for police brutality, Gates.”

  Mason snorted. “Please.” But he quickly snapped his mouth shut when he saw Chief’s look.

  The room stayed tense as we all stared at each other in silence for what felt like hours. Finally, Chief sighed and handed two files to each of us. “Look, we’ll take care of the police-brutality thing, but I don’t think it should come as a shock to you that you are out of the undercover narcotics division.”

  Do. Not. Say. Desk.

  “But since Juarez already had his suspicions of the two of you, he had guys lined up in case he was taken down. And we just caught wind of it this morning. There’s a hit out on both of you.”

  “What the fuck?” I whispered mostly to myself as I looked through the top file. There were new credit cards, a driver’s license . . . everything I would need to start over. Except the name didn’t say Logan Kash Ryan. And the state sure as shit wasn’t Florida. In its place was Logan Kash Hendricks. Texas. I glanced over at Mason, who was now scrambling to see what was in his file, before looking at Chief. “Chief, for the last three and a half years we’ve lived—almost the entire time—with thugs, dealers, and druggies. When don’t we have someone wanting us dead?”

  “This is a serious hit. What we’re doing isn’t exactly witness protection. But it’s getting you away from here until things calm down, and before you say anything”—he held his hand up and I snapped my mouth shut—“you’ll still be working. Just not with narcotics. You’ll still be undercover
.” He grabbed both files that had been under the ones with our new identities and opened them. “Do you remember the college girl who went missing and was found tortured to death in that basement about two years ago?”

  I skimmed quickly over the file and newspaper clippings. We’d been neck-deep in another operation at the time and hadn’t been paying much attention to the news. But that had been huge. She’d been the third girl in what they were now calling the Carnation Murders. All the girls had looked alike and each had been found tortured, murdered, and with one white-and-pink carnation lying on her chest. The last girl had been right in our backyard.

  “A few of our detectives have found some things other than physical appearance, type of torture, and the flower that are starting to link all of them together. Whether we’re about to go on a wild-goose chase or not, we don’t know. But they’ve been studying this trail for a few months now and we just got the okay to send in some of our guys.”

  “All right. And . . . ?”

  “And we’re sending the two of you.”

  Glancing down at my new ID, I peeked at Mason’s file and saw that he had a Texas driver’s license with the last name Hendricks as well. “I’m sorry. Let me see if I’m understanding all this. You’re getting us away from a hit that may or may not be out for us, we have Texas IDs all of a sudden, and you’re sending us somewhere. You’re sending us to cowboy country?!”

  “You always were a quick one, Ryan,” Chief said, deadpan. “Or should I say, Hendricks.”

  “If you’ve followed this trail to Texas then it’s out of our jurisdiction. Let Texas law enforcement deal with it.”

  “Austin detectives have already been sent all of the information we’ve collected on this James Camden guy, and they’re expecting you on Monday.”

  “Monday?!”

  Chief continued like we hadn’t spoken. “Mind you, there’s never been an actual suspect that has had any credibility, and when the victims’ family and friends were shown a picture of James Camden, no one had ever seen him before. And no one can actually track Camden down, so it’s possible his identity has been stolen.”