Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies #1)(83)

I had no idea. My body ached from where Blake had cut me, and overall I felt like I’d been run over by a dump truck. But my broken heart was worse than any pain I’d ever known, and my exhausted mind was taking too long to numb myself to everything. So how was I? I was shattered. “I . . . I’m really not sure.”

“You must be exhausted,” Janet said. “The doctor said you should rest after everything that you went through. And I know now that you’re awake they’ll be coming in to give you something for the pain again soon; that should help you fall asleep.”

Speak of the devil . . . the nurse walked in and started shooing Candice’s parents aside so she could give the next dose of pain meds and check all the machines I was hooked up to. As soon as she was gone, Janet spoke up again.

“Rest, baby. Visiting hours are almost over and we came here straight from the airport. We’re going to go get settled in at a hotel and we’ll be back in the morning to take you home. Do you want us to bring you anything other than a change of clothes?”

Shaking my head, I studied each of their faces and thanked God for keeping them all safe. “Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweet girl. We’re so—we’re sorry.” She cried and stepped back so George could hug me close, before Candice did.

When they were gone, Eli walked silently up to me and bent low to press his forehead to mine. “I love you, sis. I’d kill him if I could for hurting you.” I just nodded my head and squeezed his hand when he pulled the chair up next to the bed and sat down.

“You should go back to the hotel with the family, Eli.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone. A guy I’d always looked up to just tried to kill you. I’m not going anywhere. Go to sleep.”

I wanted to fight him on staying, but my eyelids were already drooping and I was asleep before I could try to say anything.



THE NEXT TIME I woke it was dark in the room. The only lights and sounds were coming off the multiple machines I was hooked up to and the hallway outside my cracked door. I wasn’t in much pain this time, but the wraps on my torso and arms, as well as the bandages on my throat and chest, were making it impossible to forget why I was in there. My body felt heavy, like I was weighted down with bricks, and even turning my head was—

My body locked up and I tried to throw up my walls, but my heart was betraying me. It pounded just as hard as it always did when Kash . . . Logan . . . whoeverthef*ckhewas, was near. I looked at his handsome face through the sliver of light peeking in the room and tried to figure out just who he was.

This man who had stolen my heart.

His expression was kept carefully blank, but I saw the haunted look in his eyes. And knowing Kash, I’d bet that if the room had been well lit, I’d have been able to see the muscle tic in his jaw. But . . . I didn’t know him.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice hoarse and raspy from a combination of too much sleep, stress, and trying to scream against the gag.

My haunted stranger’s eyes widened and he jerked back in his chair. Looking at the door, to the machines, and back to me, his mouth opened and shut once before a horrified whisper filled the room. “Rach, you—y-you don’t . . . remember who I am? They didn’t—they didn’t tell me you were having memory loss.”

He stood quickly and grabbed the chart off the end of my bed. Laying it near my feet, he started flipping through pages and leaning close to read in the dark. It was only then that I noticed his right arm was in a sling. He was hurt? Had that happened when he tackled Blake off me?

A shudder rolled through my body and I cleared my throat. “I remember you. I remember everything.” He stopped looking through the file and looked back at me. “But I don’t know who you are.”

His face looked pained as realization set in. “Rachel—”

“You look an awful lot like a guy I was engaged to. But that guy—” My voice shook and tears filled my eyes. “See, the funny thing about him . . . is he wasn’t real.”

“Rachel.” His voice was full of anguish as he walked back to the side of the bed and pulled the chair close to me. “I didn’t want you to find out that way . . .”

“Who. Are. You?”

“Babe, you know me.”

“No. I don’t, and you don’t get to call me that.” The tears were now falling freely down my face and my heart began cracking all over again. “What is your name?”

“Logan Ryan. Not Hendricks, and my middle name is Kash; I’ve gone by that my entire life.”

“And Mason?”

“Mason Gates. And he’s not my cousin. We met at the police academy almost five years ago.”

I nodded and tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “So, you’re a cop?”

“Uh, yeah. Mason and I are partners. Up until we moved here, we were undercover narcotics division. Why we’re here is a long story, but we came to find the killer behind the Carnation Murders. We had to stay undercover as we looked for him. And, Rachel”—he leaned forward, putting a hand on my arm and keeping it there even when I tried to jerk it away—“I swear we had no idea it was Blake West. We were following a trail for someone else. If I had known, you wouldn’t have ended up here. Babe, I’m so sorry.”