Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies #1)(86)



“He’s miserable, Rach! Mason’s worried about him. His parents are worried about him. The chief made him take some time off because he’s just not the same.”

My chest tightened and I sucked in air quickly through my teeth. Turning so my back was facing her, I blinked rapidly until my vision was no longer blurry. “He lied to me about everything. I can’t—why am I even talking about him right now?” I huffed a pathetic attempt at a laugh. “No more.” Besides, he hasn’t even tried to contact me.

“Rachel, you told him not to talk to you!”

Shit, did I say that out loud?

“I know.” I sighed heavily. “I know I did. And I don’t want him to, but he—he didn’t even try to fight for us after. He left and that was it. My word, I’m being such a girl.” Leaning against the wall so I was facing Candice again, I crossed my arms under my chest and worried my bottom lip. “I wasn’t playing games with him, and I’m still not. I wasn’t testing him to see what he would do. When I told him I wanted him to go and not come back, I meant it. But the fact that he did it is killing me now.”

“You still love him, right?”

A pained laugh escaped me. “Of course I do. I always will.”

“Then call him, I have his real number! You’re both miserable, this is stupid.” She grabbed my phone off my nightstand and started walking toward me.

“I can’t, it’s not that simple.”

“Yeah, actually, it is!”

I pushed the hand that was holding my phone away. “Candice, no. What he did is unforgivable. I’m still in love with him, but that doesn’t change what he did and what he could do to me again. I almost married him without knowing his real last name. How would he have even done that? Just continued to act like his last name was Hendricks forever?” I snorted. Snorting was good. It helped me not break down into a crying mess in front of her right now. “I’m done talking about this, and I’m done talking about him.”

Candice looked like she wanted to argue, but she just nodded her head, dropped my phone on the bed, and gave me a hug before leaving the room. I waited until I heard the TV turn on before going to remove my clothes. I’d never had an issue with changing around Candice; we grew up with each other, it was normal for us. But if Candice was already acting weird anyway, seeing the scars her cousin had put on me was sure to make her start sobbing and apologizing to me over and over again. I didn’t want that. I had been upset when she didn’t believe me about Blake raping me, but I knew she had blinders on and thought Blake was perfect. None of what happened had been her fault; I didn’t blame her and hated when she blamed herself.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up at the mirror, and my chin trembled when I saw myself. It never got easier. In fact, I’m pretty sure it got harder. At least when the cuts had been fresh, I could make myself believe they would go away. But now that they’d all turned into scars, there was no way to keep telling myself that. But at least the haunting memories behind them were growing smaller each time.

For the first two months of therapy, I’d gone twice a week, and for the last month it’d only been once a week. I’d had my last session with Dr. Markowitz a few days ago, and I owed a lot to that woman. I’d never wanted to go to therapy after my parents’ death, and I wouldn’t have gone after what happened with Blake. But I was so glad Candice’s mom had all but forced me into a car and driven me there before they went back to California. Dr. Markowitz had helped me accept what had happened and learn to move on from it. I knew I couldn’t be afraid of something like this happening again, and most importantly, I knew I couldn’t blame myself for what had happened to Kash and Mason, Jenn, or the other three girls who were victims in the Carnation Murders.

Jason Ruiz was the man hired to follow Kash, and from what he said after he was arrested, the sentence Blake had said when he was supposed to be calling Ruiz off had been the signal to take Blake, Kash, and Mase out. Blake was disturbed, but he was smart. He made sure he would never go down for what he did. I just needed to be thankful for bulletproof vests, and for the fact that Kash had turned toward Mason at the last second so nothing major was hit.

After our apartment had been swept for cameras and bugs and the Jenkins family had gone back to California, Candice and I moved back in and I’d immediately looked up the Carnation Murders. I don’t know how I’d never heard of them, and I felt sick knowing every one of them was done by Blake and was because of me. I studied the pictures of the three women for hours, blown away by the similarities between them and me, and spent days grieving for their families and for the girls whose lives were cut too short all because they were unlucky enough to look like me. Getting past that guilt took five sessions with Dr. Markowitz and Candice hiding my phone and laptop from me for a few weeks so I couldn’t search anymore.

But I knew now that Blake was just a sick man. Always had been. I couldn’t blame myself for what he’d done to other women just like I couldn’t blame myself for what he’d done to me.

I looked down at the three-inch scars on each of my wrists and then glanced back up at the mirror as I traced the diagonal scars going across my torso before letting my fingers trail over the small scarred MINE on the left side of my chest. My breaths were shaky, but there were no tears. I wasn’t in danger of hyperventilating or passing out as I had many times after I first saw what Blake had done to me. This was part of my own therapy, facing the nightmare that was on my body until I was no longer hit with flashes of that early morning.

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