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Authors: Molly McAdams

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #New Adult, #Coming of Age, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women

Forgiving Lies (27 page)

BOOK: Forgiving Lies
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Turning the car off when I got into the driveway of the Jenkins home, I stepped out and zipped up my hoodie as the cooler January air hit me and started making my way across the long walkway. It wasn’t freezing by any means—this was Southern California—but they were having a lot cooler weather than Texas had been having when we left. I was thankful for it though; I was able to hide the scars on my arms from Candice and her family much more easily this way.

Eli opened the door before I got there and flashed a crooked smile as I quickened my pace and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Candice told me where you went,” was all he said after he kissed the top of my head. And I knew he wouldn’t say anything else; that’s just how he was. So I smiled and turned us to walk into the house.

“Yeah, and it was good. I’m glad I did it. Did you bring Paisley with you?”

Eli’s face lit up at the mention of his girlfriend and I loved seeing that look on him. He’d always dated a lot of girls, but we didn’t meet many of them, and if we did it was usually by accident. But Paisley had come with him to all the holiday dinners, plus some others, over the last week and a half, and it wasn’t hard to see that Eli adored her.

“I did, Mom’s trying to teach her to cook right now . . . so I’m staying out of the kitchen.”

I laughed and bumped his side as I removed my jacket and made sure my wrists were still covered by my long-sleeved shirt.

“She’s moving in with me as soon as her lease ends next month,” he said a little sheepishly.

“Really? Eli, that’s great!”

His eyes flickered over toward the kitchen and he smiled again. “Yeah, I think so too. You know, I finally realized one day that if I didn’t grab her for myself, someone else would. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of her with anyone but me.”

My forehead creased as he led me back toward the bedrooms. I’d already heard all about him and Paisley getting together. She’d been in love with him for years, and he’d been too stupid to realize or do anything about it until just recently. So why was he telling me this again?

“I hadn’t realized how empty I was without her until the moment it hit me that I might not be able to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“I know, Eli . . .” I drew the words out slowly as we walked. “I really am happy for you.”
Is he questioning that?
I laughed softly, trying to lighten the conversation. “I’m glad you finally pulled your stubborn head out of your ass.”

“Glad you feel that way, sis,” he said with the most serious expression as he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me in front of him.

I turned to see Candice staring at me expectantly, and my mouth popped open to ask what was going on when Eli suddenly pushed me down in Candice’s chair at her desk. “Sheesh, Eli. What is wrong with you?”

His hands let up a little on my shoulders but didn’t move away, and Candice came to my side to fully open the half-closed laptop on her desk. As soon as I focused on the screen, I tried to stand up, but Eli slammed me back down, not even trying to be gentle.

“What is this?”

Candice and Eli snorted. It was so identical it was creepy. And the Skype version of Mason on the laptop smiled softly. “Just part two of our intervention.” When I narrowed my eyes at him, his smile turned sheepish. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

My eyes started burning and my throat tightened.
Oh my word, what is wrong with me?
I blinked quickly and crossed my arms under my chest as I tried to hold my glare. “What do you want, Mase?”

“I want to know if you’re still in love with my best friend.”

“I’m not.”

“Liar,” all three said at once.

“You’re miserable,” Eli said at the same time Candice huffed. “You just told me last month you would always love him.”

“Traitors,” I whispered, and looked back to Mason since he was being quiet.

He just continued to look at me for what felt like minutes before saying anything. “I can see it in your eyes, Rach. They’re the same as Kash’s. Empty.”

“It’s the lens on the laptop.” I shrugged, but it was an awkward movement since Eli was still holding me to the chair. “Makes everyone look like that.”

“Bullshit. So next question.”

“Ha. No, one was more than enough. We’re done, Mason.” I tried to stand but Eli wasn’t letting me budge. I unlocked my arms and reached for the laptop, but Candice smacked them down and pushed the laptop out of my reach.

“Why are you still doing this to each other? He’s miserable without you. Do you know that he tried to quit his job? That’s how fucked up he is right now, Rach.”

“That’s not my problem!” I snapped. “He
lied
to me. He let me believe all of these false things about both of you, and you know what, Mase? I’m mad at you too! You were going to let me marry him when you knew I didn’t know a damn thing about him? You told me I reminded you of your sister; would you let your sister do something like that— Wait. Do you even have a sister?!”

“I do, she’s a year older than you. We told you as many truths as we could, Rachel. I was pissed when the two of you got engaged—not because I didn’t want you together,” he hurried to say, “but because of the fact that we were still undercover and you didn’t know who we really were. He fell for you hard and fast; nothing was going to be enough until you were completely his, and he got caught up in it. He wouldn’t have married you before you knew everything, I know that for a fact. I promise you, he’s killing himself for ever keeping anything from you.”

I wanted to say something like
good
but I couldn’t. I hated that Kash was miserable. I hated what he’d done to me, but the fact that he was hurting . . . hurt me more.

“But you don’t understand, Rach. When we came to Austin, we were hiding from a hit placed on both of us for some undercover work we did here in Florida. We didn’t have a choice about going by false names; we didn’t even have a choice about moving to Austin. We had to leave the night we found out about it. Because of the case we were on, we were going undercover
again,
to find the Carnation killer. Our jobs were set up for us; once again, we didn’t have a say, but this is what Kash and I did for close to four years. We would go undercover, and we would be whatever they needed us to be. And once the hit on us was gone, we both agreed we still couldn’t let you girls know, it was too dangerous. Obviously.”

I winced and Mason grimaced.

“Kash tried to fight his feelings for you in the beginning, though. I swear he was constantly lecturing me on why we can’t have relationships, and I know it was to try to remind himself why he couldn’t be with you. But he’s never met anyone like you, he couldn’t stay away from you . . . and I know all you see is that he lied to you, but you didn’t see how much the lies killed him during the time you two were together. Like I said, I was mad when he told me you were engaged, and I know that’s one of the things that hurts you the most. Try to look at it from his side though: with the kind of undercover work we’ve done, and just being in law enforcement in general, we see a lot of death. We know life is short. So we don’t waste it.”

“But he shouldn’t—”

“Hold on, Rach . . . let me finish. There was this girl Kash had dated for a long time, and he told me he was going to ask her to marry him when we got out of our first undercover assignment. By the time we got out, she was engaged to someone else. He never once looked at Megan the way he looked at you, and when he found out about her engagement, he wished her the best, knowing the other guy could give her the life she needed. Sure, he was upset, but it was nothing compared to what is happening to him still after all these months without you. So try to see it from his side, and know that he’d found the girl who meant the world to him. He wanted it all with you. Should he have waited to ask you to marry him until you knew the truth? Yeah, he should’ve. But he didn’t; he was too in love with you to wait.”

Silent tears were streaming down my face and I brought up my hands to try to wipe them away, but it was useless. They wouldn’t stop.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I spoke softly. “I just don’t know, Mason. He—what he did hurt me worse than anything has in my life. And he could easily do it again.”

I watched as he reached forward and guessed he was touching my image on the screen. “I can promise you all day long that he wouldn’t. But you’re the one who has to decide to trust him. I know you’re hurting, sweetheart . . . he is too. None of us can stand this for either of you. I’ve tried to get him to go to you, but he won’t. He thinks that he’s hurt you enough for one lifetime and that his job is too dangerous for you. He honestly believes he can’t give you a life you deserve. He’s always going to blame himself for what happened to you.” He ended on a whisper.

A sob broke through and I buried my face in my hands.

“Rach, one of you has to end this, and he thinks he’s protecting you by staying away.”

My chest tightened in pain and a wave of what can only be described as the deepest sorrow I’ve ever known washed over my body. This full-body ache had become so familiar to me over the last four months, but it never once got any easier to deal with. Each time it knocked the air from my body just as it had the first time, and every time it took a little longer for the ache to subside.

Can people die from a broken heart?

I don’t think so. But I do know that when you keep yourself, or are kept, from the person who holds your heart, your body cripples under the knowledge that it isn’t whole and won’t be until you’re with them again.

Minutes passed as I stayed curled in on myself, and at some point, Eli pulled me up into his arms and sat back in the chair with me in his lap. “Rach,” he whispered, “I finally pulled my head out of my ass . . . are you ready to do the same?”

20

Kash

“M
ASE
? I’
M HOME
.” I loosened my tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons on my shirt.

“Did you tell your mom I want more banana nut bread?”

I huffed a laugh and opened the fridge to grab a bottled water. “I did. She said if you come visit she’ll make some.”

“All right. Well, I’ll see you later.” He grabbed his keys off the counter and headed toward the door.

“Whoa. Wait. What? She’s not going to make you some tonight. And you told me to get back here immediately and now you’re leaving? I only see my parents once a week and I’d just barely gotten there.”

“Yeah, well . . . I gotta go. I’ll probably see you tomorrow. Or something.”

My jaw dropped as I watched him walk out the door. I’d just spent all day in court and then missed a home-cooked meal for that?
Fuck this. I’m changing and going back over there. You just don’t pass up my mom’s cooking for no reason.

Walking quickly into my room, I yanked off my tie and shirt and had begun taking my badge, gun, and cuffs off my belt when my eyes finally noticed the new item on my dresser. My heart skipped a couple painful beats before drumming quickly. My chest tightened and I had to force myself to set the cuffs down before grabbing the mason jar sitting there. It was full of Sour Patch Kids—only the green ones. I squeezed my eyes shut when I felt another person come into the room and swore that if Mason was playing a trick on me, or just trying to get me to go see her again, I’d shoot him.

Blowing out a deep breath, I turned slowly and looked up to see Rachel standing there, looking more beautiful than I remembered. Before any type of hope could fill me, the memory of our last conversation replayed in my mind and pain sliced through my chest. I hadn’t seen her in just over four months, and not one day in that time had passed without my wishing I could go back and change everything.

Neither of us said anything, we just stared at each other. But then her eyes filled with tears and they spilled over, and I couldn’t stay away from her anymore. I didn’t know what she was doing here, and I didn’t know what she wanted from me. All I knew was that I loved her more now than I had when I left, and my girl was crying.

“Rachel,” I breathed when I pulled her into my arms.

A sob hitched in her throat and she buried her face in my neck, her arms tightening around my waist when I kissed the top of her head. I breathed in her sweet scent and almost thanked God out loud for bringing her back to me. Walking us toward the bed, I sat down and pulled her onto my lap before wrapping my arms around her again. I didn’t say anything; I was afraid to. Right then, she was in my arms, and I knew how quickly that could change. So I would keep her there and try to prolong the moment while I memorized the way her body felt against mine.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and pulled away.

I started to keep her there but knew she wasn’t mine to keep, so I gritted my teeth and let her slide off my lap and to the other side of the bed.

“I—that wasn’t—I wasn’t going to cry. I wanted to talk to you, and I had this whole thing planned out that I was going to say, but then I saw you and . . . and I’m just sorry. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

I didn’t know how to respond to what she was saying. Rachel was here, in Florida. She’d come to me. If she wanted to say something bad, she wouldn’t have come to the other side of the U.S., right? She would have called, or . . . well, she would have just continued to not talk to me.

“How are you?” It was one of the worst questions I could have come up with. But it was better than letting loose with the dozens of others I was dying to ask.

Her mouth opened but then snapped shut, and her eyes drifted to something behind me as she thought. “Honestly, I’m not okay.”

My fault. It’s my fault she’s not okay.
My stomach twisted and I had to clench the comforter so I wouldn’t grab for her.

“The thing that happened with Blake, I’m doing better with. I have nightmares every now and then. But they’re really rare. I went back to work for the rest of the semester, and I decided I’m not going to enroll in classes next semester because I really only went to stay with Candice. I hate what I was majoring in and don’t want to do anything with it.” She smiled shakily and glanced at me. “And I finally visited my parents’ grave.”

“That’s great. I’m really proud of you.”

“I hated you,” she whispered suddenly, and it felt like someone had shot me all over again. “Since the phone call I made to Candice after I found out about it, I’d never told anyone about my parents. I never wanted to. And granted, I told you in a fight, but I realized after that I’d wanted you to know. I wanted you to know everything about me. You always saw through my bullshit, and you didn’t let me hide. I loved that about you.”

My eyes shut and a harsh breath left me at her use of the past tense.

“I was trying so hard to cling to the thought of you coming to save me,” she said, choking, and had to clear her throat. “When you ran into that house . . . God, I just remember thinking,
He’s here, he came for me
. But then it hit me what you were saying, who you were with, and I—I couldn’t even focus on Blake anymore. My heart shattered when I realized that you’d lied to me. And when I woke up, all I knew was that I’d fallen in love with a lie. You’d broken down every wall I had so that there was nothing between us, and I didn’t even know who you were, Kash,” she whispered, and wiped at a few new tears.

“Rachel, I couldn’t tell you—”

“I know. Mason and Candice told me everything. I know about the hit, all your undercover work. I know. But you should have never pursued a serious relationship with me when you were hiding something that big. And you should have never asked me to marry you. If you couldn’t give me you, you should have never asked me to give myself to you. That wasn’t fair to me.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you. But I loved you then, and I love you now . . . I’ll never be sorry for asking you to marry me.” Her eyes shut and she took a deep breath in, and before she could respond, I said the words I’d been thinking since the second Detective Ryder put West’s picture in my hand. “I’m so sorry I didn’t keep you safe, Rachel.”

Her eyes flew open. “Are—”

“I hate myself for letting that happen to you. I swore I would never let him, or anyone else, touch you again, and I couldn’t even keep that promise.”

“Kash, stop.” Her blue eyes were searching my face incredulously. “How can you even say any of that? You saved me. I owe you my life—”

I shook my head. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Yes, I do. That’s the reason I’m here.”

I flinched.
The reason she’s here is because she feels like she owes me her life? I have to live through the heartbreak again for this?
Getting off the bed, I ran my hands through my hair roughly and growled as I paced, “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me shit. That was my
job,
Rachel. I was supposed to find him before he could hurt anyone else, not come in at the last minute and fucking save you! You should have never been there in the first place! I literally watched you walk away with a killer, and I did nothing.” I stopped pacing with my back to her, planted my shaking fists on my hips, and hung my head. “The minute I realized I was in love with you, my purpose in life changed to taking care of you . . . to keeping you safe . . . and to loving you. I failed at almost all of those, along with my job. So no, Rachel, you don’t owe me a damn thing. And I’m sorry you came all this way because you felt like you did.”

“Kash,” she said softly, “I didn’t come here because I felt like I owed you something. I meant you saving me is the reason I’m here . . . here as in
alive
. And I do owe you my life, but that’s not why I’m in Florida, in your bedroom. I’m here because I’m miserable.”

God, I knew how she felt.

“Like I said, I’m moving on from what happened and I’ve healed more in the last few months from my parents’ death than I did in four years. But I feel like I’m lost. I tried telling myself that you and I were all wrong for each other and that I couldn’t forgive you for what you did. I kept saying that
tomorrow
it wouldn’t hurt so much and tried to convince myself that you were moving on with your life because you never cared about me.”

I turned quickly to tell her how wrong she was, but she kept talking.

“But I finally realized that even with the lies, what you and I had was more real than anything I’ve ever experienced. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fool myself into thinking that I could ever get over you.” She licked her lips and looked at me before looking at her lap. “I told you that first night we were together that you made me feel like I was in love and terrified at the same time. And that’s still true. I’m terrified at the depth of my feelings for you. I’m terrified of how easily you can hurt me. And I’m
terrified
of living the rest of my life without you. I physically moved on with my life, but a part of me died each day I was away from you.”

My breathing was heavy as I stared at her. She was still looking at her lap and I needed to see her, I needed to know what this meant for us. Squatting down in front of her, I placed my hands on either side of her hips on the bed and looked at those beautiful blue eyes. “Rachel, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I can’t live without you. I still love you.” Her words were so soft they were almost inaudible, but I’d heard, and it was all I needed to know.

I sat up and crushed my mouth to hers as I laid her back on the bed and hovered over her. Her hands gripped my shirt and she moaned my name before deepening the kiss.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered against her skin, and sucked on that sensitive spot behind her ear. “Forgive me, Rachel.”

Her breath hitched as I made my way back to her lips. They trembled against mine and I opened my eyes.

“Babe, why are you crying?” I brushed the tears away and held her face in my hands.

“I don’t know.” A sound that was half laugh and half sob left her. “I feel like I’m being ridiculous right now, but I’m just happy. I feel like everything is right again. God, that sounds so stupid and cliché.”

“You’re not being ridiculous.” I kissed her forehead before brushing my lips against her cheek to catch more tears. “And you’re right, that is pretty cliché.” She laughed and pushed against my chest. I just smiled and kissed her nose. “But I feel the exact same way.” Pressing my lips to hers once more, I rolled to the side and pulled her so she was facing me. “My name is Logan Ryan, but everyone calls me Kash,” I said, and she laughed softly. “I was born and raised in Tampa Bay, Florida, and for almost four and a half years now I’ve worked in law enforcement. I’ll be twenty-six soon and don’t have any siblings. I’ll do just about anything for pancakes and green Sour Patch Kids.” She smiled and I stroked her jaw with my thumb. “And I
will
do anything to make sure I never lose you again.”

“My name is Rachel Lynn Masters, I’m twenty-one, and I’m from Yorba Linda, California . . . formerly known as far West Texas.” She winked and wiggled closer to me. For a few moments she just looked at me before taking a big breath and laying the rest of it out there. “I don’t know what I want to do for the rest of my life, but I know that whatever it is, I want to do it with you.” Closing the distance between us, she kissed me softly and spoke against my mouth. “I forgive you, but no more lies.”

“None.”

She leaned away and propped herself up on an elbow. “I’m serious, Kash. Not even the forgiving lies to save me from getting my feelings hurt. If I ask you if my butt looks big, you can’t lie.”

“Woman, you barely even have an ass. That was the worst example you could have used.”

Rachel grinned wryly and launched herself at me. Rolling so she was on top of me, I pulled her close and kissed her deeply. She groaned when I nipped at her bottom lip and I reveled in the taste of her.

I’d missed everything about her, and I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the night worshipping her body, but I couldn’t believe that she was even here, and I didn’t want to push anything. Forcing my hands to stay on her hips was damn hard, but she was calling the shots right now.

She dragged her teeth against my jaw, and my fingers flexed on her hips. She laughed low before whispering in my ear, “I need you. Now. Stop holding back.”

No need to tell me twice. I flipped us over so her back was to the bed, grabbed the bottom of her shirt, and yanked it off her body. My hands went to the button on her jeans and my mouth went to her right, lace-covered breast at the same time she pulled my undershirt off me and attacked my belt.

Worshipping her was going to have to wait until later. I didn’t have the patience for that just yet.

I finally got the button and zipper undone and had just started pulling off her jeans when I saw it and I wanted to die. “God, Rach.” My body froze and one of my hands slowly came up to trace the scars covering her stomach. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t. It’s not your fault.” Her hands left my hips and cupped my cheeks, pulling my head up to look into her beautifully pained blue eyes. “Okay?”

Shaking my head, I kissed the inside of her wrist and pulled it back when I remembered. I looked at the long scar running up her wrist and let my lips trail the length of it before grabbing her other arm and doing the same. “Rachel, you’re beautiful,” I said softly, and leaned down to kiss the scarred word above her left breast. “And I love you.” Crawling farther down, I kissed every inch of the scars on her stomach and vowed, “Somehow, I will make up for every mark he ever put on your body.”

Frenzied passion forgotten, I spent the rest of the night loving and worshipping every part of her.

 

Rachel

I
SLIPPED OUT
of Kash’s bed and tiptoed around his room looking for my clothes, which had been thrown around last night. My eyes landed on the midnight-blue button-down shirt he’d been wearing when he walked in and I shrugged into it, buttoning only a few of the middle buttons. I walked back over to the bed, kissed his cheek, and quietly walked out into the living room, shutting his bedroom door behind me.

BOOK: Forgiving Lies
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