Текст книги "Deceiving Lies"

Автор книги: Molly McAdams

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

16

Rachel

I WOKE UP with my face pressed into a hard chest, and for a moment, I smiled and curled myself into the warm body as much as possible. My smile quickly faded when I took a deep breath in and didn’t catch a hint of cinnamon or Kash’s cologne. What I smelled was a dirty mattress below us, and the body wash I’d been using my first week and a half here.

Trent.

Trying not to wake him, I slowly began uncurling my aching body to move away from him—but one of my knees was sandwiched between his legs, and the movement had his arm tightening around me and a low grunt bubbling up from his chest. Giving up my efforts, I failed at keeping my focus off every part of my body that was hurting. Including my full bladder and empty stomach, the entire front side of my body felt like I’d been run over.

“Go back to sleep,” his deep voice rumbled.

“I don’t know if I can. I hurt all over, and now that I’m awake, it’s all I can think about.”

Trent began pushing me away from his body, and I hissed out a curse when his hand touched my shoulder. Withdrawing his hand, he grunted as he rolled away from me, and suddenly his dark eyes came into view above mine. Even without light, I could see the worry embedded in his features.

“Is it that bad?” he asked and moved so he was on his knees, his hands planted on either side of my body.

“I’m fine, just sore. Are you okay?”

“Just?” he asked, his tone clearly disbelieving. Before I could respond, he brought his hand up to my cheek and I tried to hold back a whimper when my face automatically tightened from the pain. “This is going to hurt, but let me make sure you didn’t shatter any of the bones in your face. I can see the bruises even though it’s dark.”

His hand pressed down hard against my cheek, sweeping back and forth as he made his way to my nose and chin. To keep myself from crying out in pain I had clenched my jaw so hard that by the time he was finished I was sure it would break if I tried to unlock it.

“Did you fall on your right side, or did you just turn your head before you hit?” he asked and ran his thumb lightly just under the cheekbone as he waited for my response.

“I turned my head, I fell flat.”

“Okay, try not to move,” he mumbled and sat back on his knees so he could press his hands to the front of my shoulders, across my collarbone and back again, and down my arms. I brought my hands up to his wrists to stop him when I finally noticed his body.

“Are you okay? You’re shaking.”

“Fine,” he said on a shallow breath.

“Trent—”

“I’m fine, please just let me make sure you’re okay.”

With a nod, I released his wrists and let my arms drop to my sides. I tortured my bottom lip as he felt along the bones that stuck out, and stopped breathing for long seconds when his hands hit my hip bones, and then worked their way down my legs to my knees and ankles. The image of him in the shower a couple nights before was dancing through my mind as his hands started making their journey back up.

When my chest began rising and falling quickly, he grimaced and whispered, “I’m sorry if this is hurting you. I’ll be done soon.”

That wasn’t what was making my breathing ragged and, ultimately, causing me even more pain. It was the internal battle I was having with the sane Rachel, and the genuinely confused Rachel.

Sane Rachel was screaming Kash’s name at the top of her lungs in order to keep him forefront in her mind. She was going over wedding details and imagining what their wedding would be like once she got out. She was picturing her future with Kash and the family they would have. The other Rachel was trying not to moan over the way Trent’s large hands felt running over her body. She was replaying that night when he was in the shower, and imagining walking in there and taking over for him. She was fighting to break free from Sane Rachel so she could move Trent’s hands over other parts of her body that were aching to be touched.

My body was so on fire I could hardly feel the pain anymore.

“I don’t feel anything wrong, you’re just bruised.”

I huffed loudly when his hands suddenly disappeared from my body. My eyes shot open to see him kneeling over me; his labored breathing matched my own, and there was a look in his eyes that I’d seen plenty of times before. Only before, I hadn’t comprehended what I was seeing. There was heat, and there was passion—and it was scaring the shit out of me.

“We can’t stay in here, Rachel. We have no food, no water . . . there’s no bathroom, and everything I have that can protect us is in my room.”

“I know.”

His eyes searched my face before he sat back and ran a hand through his thick hair. “Leaving this room could be a suicide mission. If we get out of here without anyone seeing us, it won’t be long before they find out. We have to make it to my room, get what we can, and try to escape.”

I knew he was right, but despite all my fantasies of getting out of that place, I had the sudden urge to never try to leave. I didn’t want to know what faced us outside those walls. “I thought you said it would be impossible to escape.”

“It still might be. There’s more ammo and guns in my room, but we just have to hope what I still have in here is enough to get us there,” he said grimly and pulled out his gun, released the magazine, and stared at it for a second before replacing it and setting his gun aside. “I only have four bullets left.”

“You’re thinking . . . that . . . we, uh . . .” I trailed off when I realized his breathing had suddenly spiked. Before I could bring it up, he spoke.

“We’ll have to fight our way out, I have no doubt of that. They’ll either wait us out in here, or they’ll eventually get in. So, Rachel, if you still want to get out of here, then this is what we have to do. I know I gave you an alternate plan yesterday, but after last night, it’s not an option anymore.”

I wanted to get out of here, needed to get out of here. But the risk was proving to be too great; someone was going to get hurt. “I can’t let you get hurt because of me.”

“And I can’t let you die because of me. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t be in this position.”

“But, Trent—”

“I’ll take whatever’s coming for me gladly. I should have never stolen you, and I hope you’ll find it in you to forgive me one day. Rachel, meeting you changed my life.”

Tears were sliding down my cheeks, and when he brought a hand up to the uninjured side of my face to wipe them away, I held his hand to me and begged, “Please don’t let anything happen to you.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of here alive,” he promised, and suddenly his lips were on mine.

Trent

A SURPRISED NOISE SOUNDED in the back of Rachel’s throat, and I pulled back, breaking the kiss almost as soon as it’d started.

“We need to move,” I said before she could protest what I’d just done. “And we need to move fast.”

Her blue eyes found mine, and I hated that I hadn’t gotten enough time to look at them like this. Even wet with tears, they were the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. “All right, I’m ready.”

Using my good arm, I forced myself off the mattress and made my way to the door. Moving around the chairs, I put an ear against the metal and held my breath, listening for any sounds until my lungs protested the lack of oxygen. Stepping back, I removed one of the chairs and bit back a curse from the pain that kept shooting through my arm as I went back to the door to listen again. There wasn’t any noise, but that didn’t mean much. The door was solid metal, and they could be waiting.

“Come here, Rachel.”

Turning around, I watched her struggle to stand and flinched when she gasped in pain.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?”

“I’m fine.”

She was lying, but this couldn’t wait. “Stand behind me, and when I say run, run as hard as you can to my bedroom.”

After having her remove the second chair, I stood back and counted to twenty before making sure she was hidden behind my body, and opening the door as quietly as possible. I took three steps forward with Rachel gripping the back of my shirt, my arms shaking so much I was barely able to keep my gun in the air as I prepared for anyone that might meet us in the hall.

When both sides of the hallway came up empty, I put my lips to her ear and whispered, “Walk until I say otherwise.”

We made it to my room without seeing or hearing anything, and as soon as we were inside, I pushed the workout equipment back against the doors.

“If you have to go to the bathroom, go. If anyone gets through that door—”

“Scream, I know.” She ran to the bathroom and I collapsed against the equipment, my breathing heavy and ragged.

Even with the makeshift tourniquet, new blood had made its way through the material, and was steadily dripping down my arm from the use of it just now. Using my shirt, I tried to rub off as much blood as possible before pushing myself up, and making my way to the closet.

After loading the magazine in my gun, I pulled out another handgun and made sure it had a full magazine before pulling out one of my assault rifles. The weight was something I was so used to, but at the moment, it felt like I was lifting a car just to get the strap around my neck.

“We need to get out of here. I have that same bad feeling I had yesterday.”

I turned and nodded as I eyed Rachel warily, trying not to show any pain as I put the shoulder holster on and placed both handguns in there. If I had just listened to her the day before, we wouldn’t be where we were now. She wouldn’t be hurt, and I wouldn’t be about to put us in a situation I thought we wouldn’t make it out of alive.

“Ready, Rachel?”

“No . . . let’s do it.”

In any other situation, that would have made me smile. In any other life, I would give anything to have met her under normal circumstances and made her mine. As it was, I lowered my rifle and wrapped an arm around her body to pull her close.

She wrapped her hands around my neck, letting me hold her, and her voice was shaky when she said, “I don’t know what you did before you came into my life, and I don’t care. You may have done some bad things, but you’re not a bad person. You’re caring and brave, and I will never forget what you’ve done for me.”

My chest tightened and I pulled back enough to look at her face. It took all my restraint not to crush my mouth to hers again right there.

“Get us out of here, Trent,” she said, and the hands around my neck slid down my arms. Her grip wasn’t tight, but it was enough.

I choked out a cry of pain and tried to turn from her, but one of her hands went up to my shoulder and stopped me. The other didn’t leave my bandaged arm.

“Trent . . . what . . . what is this? Are you—are you bleeding? You said they didn’t hurt you!”

“I’m fine, we need to go.”

“No!” she cried, and the tears that had been threatening earlier began falling down her cheeks. “No, you can’t be hurt, tell me what happened! Why would you lie to me?”

“It just grazed me, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” she hissed and pulled her hand away from me to inspect it in the dark. “You wouldn’t be bleeding through whatever this is on your arm if it just grazed—” She broke off, and a muffled cry came from where her clean hand was covering most of her face. “Trent . . .” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. I told you, I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

Before she could stop me, I bent and gritted my teeth through the pain as I shoved the workout machine away from the door. More blood flowed past the bandage, and Rachel’s hand slipped down my arm when she grabbed at it.

“Trent, stop!”

“I’m all right, but we need to get out of here, we need to stay quiet. Okay?” When she didn’t say anything, I grabbed her bloodied hand, and squeezed it once. “I’m going to be fine, Rachel, I swear to you.”

She nodded, and I turned quickly away from her. I hated lying to her, everything about it was wrong. I knew if we could get out of here and find a hospital, I would live and have no problems from the gunshot wound. But while I knew I would go down fighting to make sure she escaped, I didn’t believe for one second that the guys would let me live. If by some miracle we both got out, I would be arrested as soon as I got her to safety. Once I was in prison with Romero and the others, my life would be over. They would already know what I’d done to the rest of the crew; it would all just be a matter of how and when they killed me.

Opening the door, I held up my rifle, my arms so weak I could barely keep it out in front of me. “Stay behind me, Rachel,” I whispered over my shoulder.

I stepped out with Rachel clutching my shirt, and began making my way toward the entrance of the underground building. We made it past the kitchen and the room I’d spent over a month in with Rachel, and had barely gone another dozen feet when the eerie feeling of being watched washed over me.

I stopped and listened for a few seconds before continuing forward—but the closer we got to the door that led upstairs, the worse the feeling got. It was too quiet, even with five of the guys dead. Something was wrong; they wouldn’t have let us come out of both rooms without bombarding us. The guys weren’t calculating enough to be stealthy and to wait for you to come to them. They were impatient and wanted nothing more than to get what they want. Granted, they would have waited for us to come out of the rooms, but they wouldn’t have stayed hidden like this.

The entrance that led upstairs came into view in the dark hallway, but I immediately stopped advancing and drew Rachel back instead.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s too quiet, it’s not right. They have to be waiting outside that door.” I turned to face her and waited, listening for any other noise. My quieted breaths and her hushed sniffling were all that filled the space around us before I spoke directly in her ear so my voice wouldn’t travel down the hall. “There were thirteen of us here, that leaves seven after the five I took out, and myself.”

“Is there another way out of here?” she whispered back, and I shook my head.

“Not out of the underground part. Once we’re on the main floor there are three ways to get in, but they’re worried about the door right behind me. Not the others. Stay here, Rachel.”

I stepped back, and her panicked voice filled the hall. “What are you going to do?”

Grabbing behind her neck, I pulled her close again. “If they’re all waiting outside that door to ambush us, I’m not willing to have you in the middle of that. Stay close to the door, but don’t follow me out until I come back for you.”

“Trent—”

“If someone ends up being down here with you, just scream. I’ll be back for you.”

She was quiet for so long, I thought she wouldn’t answer. Just as I started to pull back, she nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

A deep ache filled my chest, knowing this would most likely be the last time I saw this brave, and frustratingly stubborn girl. Grabbing the back of her neck, I captured her mouth with mine . . . but this time, I didn’t pull away immediately. She met my kiss easily, and I almost groaned when my tongue met hers.

I could have stayed there with her forever. But I knew we didn’t have much time. Reluctantly, I broke off the kiss, and pressed my forehead to hers as I whispered, “Rachel, I know you’re not mine to take, and I know I’ll never hold a part of your heart the way he does . . . but thank you for giving me a little taste of what loving you would be like.”

A choked cry left her, and one of her hands, which had been resting against my chest, covered her mouth as she gathered herself. Her voice was so soft, I could barely hear her next question. “Why are you acting like this is good-bye?”

Because it is.

Taking a step back, I pulled the rifle up and kept my eyes on her face as long as possible as I said, “Stay.”

“Freeze,” a low voice ordered, and I felt the muzzle of a gun press up against the back of my head. My hands released the rifle so it was hanging in front of my torso, and I raised my hands in the air. Counting down the seconds before I could go for my guns waiting in the shoulder holster, I looked at Rachel’s shock-frozen body and silently vowed to fight to keep her safe until I stopped breathing.

“No.” Rachel’s horrified whisper reached my ears at the same time I saw a large, tattooed arm wrap around her chest. “No!”

17

Kash

MASON AND I FINISHED ZIP-TYING numbers six and seven, and made sure they wouldn’t be waking up for some time before we silently made our way back down the stairs. After thirteen hours at the department, Mason and I had rushed back to the building and wasted no time in coming in to find Rachel. The bad feeling I’d had the night before had only increased, and with each member of Juarez’s gang we came upon, I knew I was getting closer and closer to my girl. Capturing the first seven members had been easier than expected. None had heard us approach them; they hadn’t even been expecting us. It was almost like they weren’t worried about anyone getting in the building . . . they were making sure someone didn’t get out. I knew who that someone was, and I was about to get her back. Putting my ear up against the door at the bottom of the stairs, I counted to ten, and when no sounds could be heard from the other side, I nodded my head at Mase. He opened the door and we hurried through with our guns drawn.

Making our way to the large, metal door where numbers six and seven had been stationed, we repeated the same process and opened the door. There was an old mattress pushed to the back wall. Other than that, it was empty.

We retreated out of the room and walked down the hall, clearing rooms and a kitchen. I heard a low snap and looked over to Mason. He was pointing down at the floor, and for the briefest of seconds, he flipped on the light that was mounted onto his firearm.

There was blood all over the floor. Mason and I had made this a completely silent mission so far, and we hadn’t shed blood of any of the guys we’d come across. The possibilities of whose blood that could be had me straining to keep calm. We moved out of the kitchen and continued down the hall, coming across more blood as we did. As soon as we found the second patch of stained concrete in the hall, we heard movement down the hall and froze.

Turning, I pointed down the hall, and we moved silently back toward the entrance. I slipped into the room with the mattress, and Mason motioned he was going closer to the door. Peeking out, I watched him enter the open doorway of one of the first rooms we’d come across. It was dark as hell underground, but not willing to let them even see a shadow, I withdrew back into the room and let the metal door shut enough without it latching.

Whoever was coming was staying as silent as we had, but the softest sound of shuffling went past the door, and I slowly opened the metal door enough to fit my body between it and the doorjamb. When the shuffling continued toward the entrance, I peeked around the corner and stopped breathing.

Rachel.

I could see her hair pulled back, and even in the dark, I’d know those bare legs anywhere. I’d spent countless hours in the dark worshipping and memorizing them, there was no way not to recognize them. The form of a large man was in front of her, and even though Mason and I had sworn to only knock the people out to keep them quiet, I knew if I got close to him, it would take an army to pull me off him.

Just as I started to slip into the hall, they stopped and he pulled her back a few steps. I moved just inside the doorjamb again, and waited for when they would pass me.

“Where are we going?” Rachel asked, sounding terrified. God, just hearing her voice was about to bring me to my knees. Over a month without her. Over a month of wondering if I would ever see her again. Over a month praying that I would hear that voice again. And now it was about to all be over.

“It’s too quiet”—a deep voice responded—“it’s not right. They have to be waiting outside that door.”

His men were outside that door, though they weren’t waiting. But I sure as shit was.

For a couple minutes, there was nothing. I held my breath as I waited for the signs of movement, and growled when I heard Rachel’s panicked, “What are you going to do?”

If he touched her, I would kill him. If he hurt her, I would do it slowly.

Not willing to give him the chance to do anything, I turned in to the hall and put one foot silently in front of the other as I got closer and closer to Rachel’s back. I barely caught sight of Mason creeping up behind the man when everything in me locked up.

What. The. Fuck.

I stared in disbelief, and agonizing horror as I watched my fiancée kiss him. I waited for her to fight him, or tell him to stop. Neither happened, and I couldn’t figure out if I was going to throw up, or kill him with my bare hands when they parted just a few seconds later.

Hushed whispers filled the hall, and I somehow found the strength to move toward Rachel when I caught sight of Mason creeping up behind the man again. Forcing myself to focus on Rachel instead of on the man I wanted to kill, I had to bite back a growl when I heard his deep command.

“Stay.”

He took a step back and Mason’s low voice filled the hall. “Freeze.”

Rachel froze and whispered, “No.”

I watched the man raise his hands and noted the rifle hanging from around his neck. But I knew if he reached for anything again, Mason wouldn’t let him get far. Knowing she would expect it to be one of the other members, I prepared for her to fight back, and holstered my gun before wrapping an arm around Rachel’s chest to pull her away with me.

“No!” she screamed and bucked against me, but I didn’t let go.

The man brought his arms to his waist and I retreated faster. “Mase, gun!”

“I said freeze, you son of a bitch!”

Rachel stopped fighting me, and I heard a loud inhale coming from her at the same time the man said, “Let her go.”

“Kash?” Rachel whispered.

My legs felt like they were going to give out when she said my name. “Yeah, Sour Patch,” I managed to say. “It’s me.”

“Kash!” she yelled, and turned to wrap her arms tightly around my neck.

Dying. It felt like I was dying for a different reason than I had over the last month. She’d just been kissing someone else. Pushing her back, I held her away at arm’s length and struggled to look at her. “Rachel, how many people are here?”

Her body shook with sobs and she blinked rapidly against the tears when she answered, “What?”

“How many people are in this building. We need to make sure we get them all before we get out of here.”

“Um, I don’t . . . Trent said there were thirteen—”

“Who’s Trent?”

She turned to look over at the man and Mason. “He’s—Mason, no!” she yelled when Mason hit him over the back of the head with the butt of his gun, his knee in the man’s back keeping him on the ground.

Pulling away from where I’d been holding her, she ran to where Mason was now zip-tying his hands together. I watched as she fell to her knees, pushed Mason away, cradled Trent’s head in her lap, and continued to run her hands over his head and shoulders as she apologized to him.

I was going to be sick. I stumbled back into the wall, and somehow kept myself vertical as I felt my world shatter around me. What new nightmare had I just landed in?

She kissed him.

She left me for him.

I’d spent over a month searching for her, and worrying about her . . . and within a minute of getting her, she ran from me to another man.

“Oh God. Trent, wake up, please.”

He groaned and whispered her name, and she cried out in relief.

“Rachel, get away from him. Now,” Mason demanded when I just continued to stand there, staring at them like a bad car accident.

She looked over at Mason, then me, and reached an arm out toward me. “Please release him and call an ambulance. Hurry, he’s hurt!”

“What the fuck, Rachel?” Mason looked up at me with a confused expression.

Grinding my teeth, I turned so I couldn’t see them anymore and spoke into the empty hall. Trying to get my mind on anything else. “How many others are there?”

“Seven,” Trent groaned from the ground. “There were thirteen here, but I took out five last night.”

Turning back around, I saw Rachel staring up at me with Trent’s head still resting in her hands, on her lap. She was crying silently, and even in the dark I could see the hurt on her face. But her hurt didn’t make sense. She wasn’t the one that felt betrayed.

“Why did you take them out?” Mason asked, but I couldn’t take my eyes from Rachel.

She kept staring at me even as she answered for Trent. “They tried to take me from him and they were going to kill him. He was going to help me escape, he was trying to keep me safe and one of them shot him last night during the fight.”

“There were three outside smoking when we came in, two guarding the door to come in here, and two guarding the metal door behind me. They’re all unconscious and tied up upstairs. You’re sure there are no others?”

“Yes,” Trent grunted as he sat up, and away from Rachel.

Mason approached me and whispered so his voice wouldn’t carry. “What the fuck is happening right now?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do we call a bus?”

I shook my head and shrugged helplessly. “We will when we call everyone else. Let’s get him upstairs and away from my goddamn fiancée.”

Mason walked in front of me, and grabbing Trent’s arms, roughly pulled him up. I had no doubt he was doing that for my benefit.

A pained cry left Trent as Mason yanked him up the stairs, and Rachel yelled, “Mason, stop! He’s been shot, and he’s not going to hurt anyone. Untie his hands, please!”

“Rachel”—I cleared my throat and somehow managed to stop looking at her—“come on, we need to get you out of here.”

“Please don’t hurt him, he protected me!” I watched her struggle to stand and realized too late that I should have been trying to help her. “You need to do something, they’ll kill him when they wake up.”

What was I supposed to say? I’m sorry? She was breaking my fucking heart.

The door burst open, and Mason came back in.

Giving Mason a look, I nodded toward Rachel and said, “We need to get Rachel out to the truck. Then we’ll, uh, we’ll call everyone.” I was thankful for our years of working together as he reached for Rachel, and began leading her up the stairs. I needed a minute to process everything I’d just seen.

Falling back against the wall, I bent over and rested my hands on my knees as I breathed heavily through my nose. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t lose her now. I’d almost lost her too many times, and too much had happened between us for this to end us. There was no way I was about to let whatever happened to her here, or whatever was going on between her and Trent, take her away from me. I would fight for her. I’d always fight for her.

When I’d collected myself enough, I made my way upstairs. Glancing over at the eight men, my gaze hardened as I saw Trent sitting there, head bent so he was looking at the floor. Bastard didn’t even have the decency to look at me as I walked right past him on my way out to the truck.

My heart picked up seeing Rachel, but I tried to control it . . . not knowing where we stood anymore.

Mason walked over to meet me, and stayed facing the building behind me as he spoke to me. “She’s just sitting there begging me not to turn him in.”

It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Begging Mason not to turn in one of her captors. That’s all she’s doing? Not thanking Mason for helping rescue her? Not wanting to see me?

“She’s covered in blood”—Mason continued—“and before you go freaking out, I’m almost positive it’s his. She looks pretty bruised, but I don’t think she’s bleeding anywhere.”

“Bruised? What the fuck, where is she bruised?”

“Half of her face is practically black and blue, and when I tried helping her into the truck, she almost screamed from where I was touching her arms.”

I didn’t care if Trent had been the reason behind it or not, I was going to fucking murder him. I started turning, but Mason was right there with a hand pressed to my chest.

“Don’t do it, Kash. I know you want to, but don’t fuck up your life over this. What the hell is even going on here? I thought for sure she would have been a hell of a lot more excited to see us. She seemed happy for all of fifteen seconds before running back to him.”

“I know,” I growled, and gave him a warning glare. “I think it’s some fucked-up form of Stockholm syndrome.”

“Shit.” Mason glanced behind him at the building, before looking over my shoulder where the truck was. “Are you okay?”

I looked up at Mason and huffed, but it sounded pained. “I spent a month thinking my fiancée was being tortured and murdered. I thought I would never see her again. And not only did I just watch her kiss another man, within seconds of having her in my arms again, she ran out of them and back to him! Do you think I’m fucking okay?”

Mason and I both looked over when a choking sound came from Rachel, now looking at us through the open truck door. “It isn’t—it isn’t like that! I just . . . Trent was . . . it isn’t like that, Kash, I swear!” She dropped her head into her bloodstained hands and started sobbing again.

I mumbled a curse and slowly walked over to her. My hands clenched into fists when I saw the bruising on her face when she looked back up at me. “We’re going to call the department and have them come pick up everyone. They’re going to want to question you, and I want someone to check your face. Okay?”

“I swear I didn’t—it isn’t like that! He just took care of me, and I thought we were going to die . . . a-and I’m sorry! All I wanted was to get back to you, he was going to help me find you, you have to believe me.”

“Okay, Rachel. It’s okay.”

“I’m happy to see you, I swear!”

And yet it sounded like she was trying to convince herself rather than me. I dropped my head back so I was facing the sky, and ground my teeth to stop my jaw from shaking. I just needed to be thankful that she was alive. The rest . . . well, the rest we would just have to sort out later. Bringing my head back down, I forced a smile and stepped back, and away from her.