Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies #1)(30)

Pushing past Kash, I looked at Mrs. Adams. “Well, let’s find them, then.”

“Yes, of course.” She turned and began searching. “Butters!”

“Budders,” I called lamely, and was suddenly being pulled backward. “Kash, stop. She needs help.”

“Go get on the couch. I’m not going to tell you again.” He pushed me back toward my door and gave me a stern look. “I’ll help her today.”

I stood there long enough to see Mrs. Adams look at him like he had three heads and Kash look underneath a bench before I walked back into the kitchen. After searching through the mostly bare medicine cabinet, I grabbed the bottle I was looking for and took a big swig before shuffling back to the couch.

Kash walked in a few minutes later and immediately went to the kitchen. Opening the same cabinet I’d just been in, he looked around before shutting it and looking over the counter at me. “Rach, there’s nothing here you can take. I’ll run to the st—What’s in your hand?”

I lifted up the toilet paper roll.

“Other hand.”

I lifted up the NyQuil.

“It’s eight thirty in the morning. You’re taking NyQuil?”

“Ugh.” That’s sick-talk for Yes, I am, stop bitching at me.

“All right, give me that.” He pried the NyQuil from my hand and bent close. “I’ll go to the store and get something for whenever you wake back up. Is there anything you need or want?”

“Nope.” I rolled to my side and hugged the roll of toilet paper as I curled into a ball. I just wanted to go back to sleep and not have my nose feel like it was about to fall off.

A few moments later Kash was laying my comforter on me and lifting my head up to stuff my pillow beneath it. After a quick kiss to the top of my head, he was gone. He so deserved pancakes tomorrow morning.

Another round of sneezes tore through me. Only five? Fail.

Maybe his pancakes would have to wait until Saturday.



WHEN I WOKE up a few hours later, the apartment was empty, but the coffee table had boxes of Kleenex, cold and allergy medicine, a bottle of water, and a note on it.



Rach,

Had to run to the bar to take inventory. Mason’s running errands, call me if you need anything. The rest is in the kitchen. And if you eat my green ones, I will not take pity on you just because you’re sick.

Kash

Green ones? I walked into the kitchen and laughed out loud. The counter had four cans of chicken noodle soup, eight Gatorade bottles, and three boxes of Sour Patch Kids on it. I put away everything except for one of the boxes and went back to my makeshift bed on the couch. Kash was either the worst . . . or the absolute best at taking care of someone. Either way, I was falling so in love with that man.

And yeah, I ate the green ones. I’d have to remember to hide the other two boxes before he came over again.



Kash

“CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP and Gatorade?” Mason laughed and opened the door to the police department. “She said she had allergies, not the flu.”

“Well shit, I don’t know! She really looked like she didn’t feel good, so I just got her everything I could think of.”

“You’re so whipped and you’re not even screwing her.”

I shook my head and tried not to punch him. “Shut up, Mase.”

We walked in silence the rest of the way to the conference room and both stopped when we got in the room. What the hell was our chief from Tampa Bay doing here?

He didn’t look at or acknowledge us in any way during our three-hour meeting on Camden, possible leads, and some new courses of action. The millions of reasons he could have been there in Texas ran through my mind the entire time, and to be honest, at the end of the meeting I couldn’t remember the actual details of it. I wasn’t sure what Mason thought of his being there, but from the fact that his face was drained of color, I figured it was the same as me. Chief wouldn’t have been there for good news.

“Gentlemen,” he said by way of greeting once the room was finally cleared out, “sounds like you’re doing your jobs well. Had a meeting with Detective Ryder before everyone was called in and we went over some things.”

“You’re checking up on us? Are you kidding me?” Mason looked annoyed but relieved that that was all he was there for. “When have we ever not done everything and more than what was asked of us at our jobs?”

Chief raised one graying eyebrow. “You’re right. You do do more. Surely you haven’t forgotten about what you did to get the police-brutality charge brought against you, right, Gates?”

Mason shut his mouth.

“And I’m not checking up on you to make sure you’re doing well. If I didn’t think you two were some of the best I’ve ever worked with, I wouldn’t have given you this opportunity after what went down last month. I would have just suspended you before sending you to a desk.”

Fuck . . . Mason was about to make us desk bitches.

“The charge was dropped, by the way; you’re welcome.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Mason mumbled.

“No disrespect, sir, but why are you here?” I hurried to finish before he could get mad. “I mean, your being here kind of scared the shit out of us. The only reason I could come up with for it is that bad shit went down back home. So is everything okay?”