Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies #1)(35)

This sick f*ck is a professor? “Name. What’s his name?” When she didn’t respond, I went back to my earlier questions. “Did this happen last night?”

She jerked back and stared at me. “N-no! I haven’t seen him since that night. It was the week before school let out.”

“This morning?”

“I had another nightmare about him. He showed up at the door. This time—” She broke off on a sob. “No one was there to stop him before he finished this time.”

Rachel. I wanted nothing more than to hold her, but with how she’d flinched away from us earlier, that would have been anything but helpful. My heart continued to break as she mumbled, “It felt so real,” over and over again.

Giving her a second, I stood up and walked into my room, threw a pair of sweatpants over my shorts, and shrugged into a sweatshirt. God, how was she shivering? I was already sweating with this on. But if I couldn’t comfort her in the way I wanted to, I was going to do it in the only other way I knew how. I’d just be there for her. When I walked back through the living room, her sobs had quieted, but she was still in a ball. Heading into the kitchen, I grabbed two bottled waters, a spoon, and the pint of Ben and Jerry’s she always made sure I had in the freezer. I put everything on the coffee table, grabbed the remote, and searched the DVR until I found Bridesmaids. I didn’t give a shit about the two hundred dollars or breakfasts I would owe her for this.

Sitting down next to her this time, I picked up the water and ice cream, balanced them on my legs, and turned the volume up. When the movie started, she brought her red face up and glanced at the TV with a furrowed brow before looking over at me. Her eyebrows shot straight up when she saw me.

“What are you wearing?” Her voice was hoarse from crying and I handed her the bottle of water.

“Well, you came over in sweats. I figured I missed the memo or something and had to get in on the party.”

She looked at the TV and back to me, and a small smile cracked when she took the ice cream and spoon from me.

I’d pushed her enough today. I hated knowing what I knew and vowed to one day find out who this guy was. Hopefully now that she knew she could talk to me, she’d open up more when she was ready. But anything more today would be too much. So I settled into the couch and pretended to watch the movie instead of her every move. After a while, she handed me back the half-empty container and leaned against my shoulder. My arm automatically went around her and I pulled her close to my side.

“Thank you, Kash,” she whispered a couple minutes later.

“Anything for you, Rach. I’m here whenever you need to talk.” Pressing my lips to her forehead, I kept them there as I said, “And I will always protect you.”

We were still sitting there watching the movie when Mason came back from his run. He nodded at us, and when he came back out of his room after a shower, he was dressed in sweats as well. He grabbed the melting ice cream and tried to squeeze himself onto the couch on the other side of Rachel.

She laughed and curled closer into my side. “You guys are the best.”

“You think we’re going to let you veg on the couch alone?” Mason said, scoffing. “Sweetheart, you obviously don’t know us that well. I mean, it’s gonna be a hundred degrees today. How else would I spend the day than in sweats?”

Rachel kicked at his leg and he squeezed her knee. After a few minutes of watching the movie, Mason caught my gaze over Rachel’s head. He quickly looked down at her and raised an eyebrow, the question clear in his eyes. I nodded once and the color drained from his face. He swallowed hard and grabbed one of Rachel’s hands. She laughed lightly at something from the movie and his eyes came back to mine. They were determined, and he looked like he was struggling at relaxing his now-murderous expression.

I knew exactly how he felt.

He didn’t have to say anything to me. We’d worked together long enough to know that we’d both just agreed to find the bastard. And make him pay.





8

Kash

“WOMAN!” I SHOUTED, and shook Rachel’s bed roughly. “Wake up.”

She shot straight up, her eyes wide in panic as she looked around her room before settling them on me. “God, I thought earthquakes had followed me to Texas.” Taking a calming breath, she brushed her wild hair back from her face and scowled at me. “What is wrong with you? And what time is it—seven? Really, Kash?”

“Get up and get ready.”

“No.” Pulling the covers up past her shoulders, she sank back into the mattress and shut her eyes.

Hell. No. “This is your last warning, Rach. Get up.”

A single snort was her only reply.

“Such a pain in my ass,” I mumbled, and walked to the foot of the bed. Grabbing the bottom of the comforter, I ripped it off the bed and dropped it on the ground.

“Oh my God, what if I had been naked?!”

I raised an eyebrow and let my gaze run over her body. I wouldn’t have minded. Ah shit, now I was getting hard and the jersey material of these shorts wouldn’t hide that fact. Think about Mrs. Adams and her fake cats. Think about Mrs. Adams and her fake cats! “Moot point; you’re not. Now, get your ass out of bed.”

“Give me at least another couple hours. I just went to sleep.”