Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies #1)(85)

Mason quickly stood up and began pacing. “No she wasn’t. All that shit had gone down with her and Blake before we’d ever even shown up. It had been going on for years, and it had nothing to do with your job. You being a cop is what saved her yesterday morning. Like I said, give her some time. She’s gone through a lot over the last few months, but she loves you.”

I don’t love you. I’m in love with an illusion. I’d known heartache before, but what was happening now couldn’t be described as heartache. Those words had shattered my soul. I felt hollow and lost. And like I could easily drown in the searing pain making its way through my body. “She doesn’t want to see me, Mason. She wants me gone. I couldn’t keep her safe even after I promised her I would. The least I can do is give her what she asks. It’s over.”

“Kash—”

“Stop. She deserves a normal life, not the one I have to offer. I couldn’t protect her before, but I will now, by walking away.”

Before he could say anything else, I began walking out of the waiting room and hospital. I was at Mason’s truck for almost half an hour before he joined me. “Both of our dads will be here later today,” I said.

He paused with his door half-open. “What?”

“They’re going to help us pack up and move back to Florida.” I grabbed the handle just inside the door and hauled myself into the cab. Putting on the seat belt should have been a lot easier than it was, but the sling and the additional pain in my shoulder and right side of my chest were making it damn near impossible. Note to self: Don’t get shot again. It doesn’t tickle and makes putting seat belts on a bitch.

“When did you talk to them?”

“When I was waiting for you.”

“Kash.” He sighed and finally got in the driver’s seat but didn’t put the key in the ignition. “I don’t think you should do this. Give her time, yeah, but don’t f*cking run away.”

If I didn’t feel so dead inside, I would have snorted at him. “I’m not running away.”

“Yes you are. You’re being a little bitch! You always think people are better off without you. You did this with Megan and now you’re doing it with Rachel. But with Rachel, she’s best with you. I didn’t have to know her before the two of you met to know that. So some shit went down, and she’s terrified. Understandable. But you’re being a bitch thinking that you caused all of this and that running from her is going to keep her safe. God, you’re so f*cking dumb.”

“She almost died, Mason!” I yelled, and turned to face him. “She almost f*cking died!”

“And so did we! With us it was because of our job and a psycho. With Rach it was only because of the psycho. She is alive because of our job. Get that through your thick skull.”

“We’re done talking about this. I’m not running from her, Mase. I’m leaving for her. Think what you want about that, I really don’t f*cking care anymore. But she asked me to leave and our job here is done. Staying—” Would be too painful. “There’s no reason to stay.”

“You’re such an idiot,” he sneered, and cranked the engine.

It’s too little way too late. The pain that had nothing to do with getting shot intensified and I sucked in a quick breath. “Yeah . . . I am.”





19

Rachel

JUST AS I was raising my shirt over my head, there was a knock on the door and I barely had time to push the material back down before it opened to reveal Candice.

“Hey,” she said softly.

I hated that tone. Everyone in my life, including Candice and her parents, had used that tone on me the entire year after my parents died. It’d been months since the incident with Blake, and they were still using this tone with me. Like I was going to break if they spoke to me like a normal human being. He was her cousin. I almost wanted to give her the tone right back and ask how she liked it.

“Hey.”

“What are you up to?” she asked quietly as she walked into my room and lay down on my bed.

“I was just about to take a shower.”

“What are you doing after?”

And this was now the norm as well. What are you doing, what are you eating, why are you going to sleep, why don’t you want to come out with us . . . next she was going to ask why I was still wearing clothes.

“I’m probably going to go to sleep.”

“Okay, that’s fine.”

Fine? It was almost midnight. “What are you doing, Candi?” Yeah . . . I flipped that shit around onto you. How does it feel?

“Just checking on you.”

“Ah.” This was awkward. “You know, it’s been three months. I’m okay.”

She sat up from her sprawled-out position on my bed. “I know you are, I just—I wish you . . .”

“Wish I would what?” What more could I do? I’d kept my job. I’d gone to a therapist like Janet had begged me to. I wasn’t sitting in the corner rocking back and forth talking about the boogeyman that was coming to get me. I really didn’t understand what else they could expect of me.

“Rachel, I’ve been talking to Mason—”

“Oh, no. No, no, no. Candice, we talked about this!”