Текст книги "Forgiving Lies"
Автор книги: Molly McAdams
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
6
Rachel
STUPID TEXAS AND stupid allergies.
I’d never had allergies until I moved to Texas. And although I still had yet to determine what exactly it was I was allergic to, whenever it hit, it hit with a vengeance. I couldn’t breathe through my nose, I sounded like a man, my face felt like it was going to break from being so congested, and my eyes were watering so bad it looked like I was constantly crying.
It was sexy.
I threw away the last empty box of Kleenex and went into the bathroom to grab a roll of toilet paper to take back to the couch with me. The front door opened as I was headed out of my bedroom and I saw Kash closing the door behind him. I would’ve sworn I’d locked that when Candice left for camp that morning.
Kash looked up when I entered the living room, and his eyes went wide. “You okay, Rach?”
“Ugh.”
“I’ll take that as a no,” he murmured, and bit back a smile when he saw the roll of toilet paper I was carrying with me. “Do you have the flu?”
I shook my head and flopped down on the couch dramatically. “Whachoo want?”
Walking quickly over to me, he knelt down and put the back of his hand to my forehead. I swatted at it but he held down my hands and tried to decide if I had a fever. “You just have a cold then?”
“Allergies. Stupid mold or cedar or . . . air.”
“Have you taken anything?”
“Nope. Juss woke up. Cantchoo tell?” I waved a hand over my pajama-covered body and wiped my tears away.
He smiled softly and stood up. “You still look beautiful. Let me find you something to take.”
I wanted to have an aww moment, but just then I started in on a string of sneezes.
“Only six sneezes?” Kash called from the kitchen. “Come on, Rach. You’re slacking. Next time go for eight at least.”
I flipped him off and then there was a knock at the door. “Ugh.” That was quickly becoming my favorite word. Rolling to the side, I tried to get my legs on the ground to get off the couch, but I rolled too far and my feet didn’t move fast enough and I landed with a thud on the floor. “Fuck my life.”
Kash barked out a laugh as I sluggishly got to my feet. “Get back on the couch, I’ll get it.”
“No, no. My door. I answer.”
“It’s eight thirty, it’s going to be Mrs. Adams.”
He remembered? “Crap. I forgod it was Thursday.”
“Oh, you forgod, did you?”
I looked up at Kash’s wicked smile and wished I had the energy to punch him. “Shuddup.”
He beat me to the door and opened it as I came up behind him.
“Ra– Oh, you’re a boy. Um . . .” Mrs. Adams stood there wringing her hands. “Uh, well . . . is Rachel here? She needs to help me, my cats are all gone.”
“Hi, Mrs. Adams.” I stepped up and tried to smile.
“Rachel dear! They’re all gone, come quick!”
“Umb, I’m a little sick.”
She shook her head. “The cats, dear.”
I couldn’t close my mouth and I’m pretty sure snot was starting to come out of my nose. Could she not see this?
“I’ll help you, Mrs. Adams,” Kash said with a charming smile.
“Butters won’t respond to a boy.”
Pushing past Kash, I looked at Mrs. Adams. “Well, let’s find them, then.”
“Yes, of course.” She turned and began searching. “Butters!”
“Budders,” I called lamely, and was suddenly being pulled backward. “Kash, stop. She needs help.”
“Go get on the couch. I’m not going to tell you again.” He pushed me back toward my door and gave me a stern look. “I’ll help her today.”
I stood there long enough to see Mrs. Adams look at him like he had three heads and Kash look underneath a bench before I walked back into the kitchen. After searching through the mostly bare medicine cabinet, I grabbed the bottle I was looking for and took a big swig before shuffling back to the couch.
Kash walked in a few minutes later and immediately went to the kitchen. Opening the same cabinet I’d just been in, he looked around before shutting it and looking over the counter at me. “Rach, there’s nothing here you can take. I’ll run to the st—What’s in your hand?”
I lifted up the toilet paper roll.
“Other hand.”
I lifted up the NyQuil.
“It’s eight thirty in the morning. You’re taking NyQuil?”
“Ugh.” That’s sick-talk for Yes, I am, stop bitching at me.
“All right, give me that.” He pried the NyQuil from my hand and bent close. “I’ll go to the store and get something for whenever you wake back up. Is there anything you need or want?”
“Nope.” I rolled to my side and hugged the roll of toilet paper as I curled into a ball. I just wanted to go back to sleep and not have my nose feel like it was about to fall off.
A few moments later Kash was laying my comforter on me and lifting my head up to stuff my pillow beneath it. After a quick kiss to the top of my head, he was gone. He so deserved pancakes tomorrow morning.
Another round of sneezes tore through me. Only five? Fail.
Maybe his pancakes would have to wait until Saturday.
WHEN I WOKE up a few hours later, the apartment was empty, but the coffee table had boxes of Kleenex, cold and allergy medicine, a bottle of water, and a note on it.
Rach,
Had to run to the bar to take inventory. Mason’s running errands, call me if you need anything. The rest is in the kitchen. And if you eat my green ones, I will not take pity on you just because you’re sick.
Kash
Green ones? I walked into the kitchen and laughed out loud. The counter had four cans of chicken noodle soup, eight Gatorade bottles, and three boxes of Sour Patch Kids on it. I put away everything except for one of the boxes and went back to my makeshift bed on the couch. Kash was either the worst . . . or the absolute best at taking care of someone. Either way, I was falling so in love with that man.
And yeah, I ate the green ones. I’d have to remember to hide the other two boxes before he came over again.
Kash
“CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP and Gatorade?” Mason laughed and opened the door to the police department. “She said she had allergies, not the flu.”
“Well shit, I don’t know! She really looked like she didn’t feel good, so I just got her everything I could think of.”
“You’re so whipped and you’re not even screwing her.”
I shook my head and tried not to punch him. “Shut up, Mase.”
We walked in silence the rest of the way to the conference room and both stopped when we got in the room. What the hell was our chief from Tampa Bay doing here?
He didn’t look at or acknowledge us in any way during our three-hour meeting on Camden, possible leads, and some new courses of action. The millions of reasons he could have been there in Texas ran through my mind the entire time, and to be honest, at the end of the meeting I couldn’t remember the actual details of it. I wasn’t sure what Mason thought of his being there, but from the fact that his face was drained of color, I figured it was the same as me. Chief wouldn’t have been there for good news.
“Gentlemen,” he said by way of greeting once the room was finally cleared out, “sounds like you’re doing your jobs well. Had a meeting with Detective Ryder before everyone was called in and we went over some things.”
“You’re checking up on us? Are you kidding me?” Mason looked annoyed but relieved that that was all he was there for. “When have we ever not done everything and more than what was asked of us at our jobs?”
Chief raised one graying eyebrow. “You’re right. You do do more. Surely you haven’t forgotten about what you did to get the police-brutality charge brought against you, right, Gates?”
Mason shut his mouth.
“And I’m not checking up on you to make sure you’re doing well. If I didn’t think you two were some of the best I’ve ever worked with, I wouldn’t have given you this opportunity after what went down last month. I would have just suspended you before sending you to a desk.”
Fuck . . . Mason was about to make us desk bitches.
“The charge was dropped, by the way; you’re welcome.”
“Thanks, Chief,” Mason mumbled.
“No disrespect, sir, but why are you here?” I hurried to finish before he could get mad. “I mean, your being here kind of scared the shit out of us. The only reason I could come up with for it is that bad shit went down back home. So is everything okay?”
He took his time sitting back down in one of the chairs and straightening out his tie. “Things are great for you, gentlemen. My wife and I are here visiting family in Houston and I got the call yesterday morning that the guys hired to take the two of you out are now in prison awaiting trial for first-degree murder.”
“That—” I looked over at Mason and straightened up a bit. “That’s good. So we’re not hiding anymore?”
“No, but for the duration of this case, you will continue to stay where you are, working where you are, and doing what you’ve been doing. If you want to tell your family where you’re at, that’s up to you.”
“Understood,” Mason answered when I got quiet.
“You boys work tonight?”
“No, sir.”
“Let’s go grab a beer and talk about this case and what’s going to happen when you come back to Tampa Bay. I’m not exactly in a rush to get back to my wife’s family,” he said as his eyes widened in dread.
“MASE, WE NEED to talk about this.”
“About what?”
“About not being in hiding.”
He nodded his head and lifted one hand from the steering wheel to run it over his face. “I don’t think we should tell our families where we are.”
“Agreed. And I don’t think we should tell the girls who we are yet.”
“What? Why?”
“Same reason we don’t want to tell our families where we are. We need to keep them safe. As soon as we tell them who we are, we’ll have to tell them about our lives . . . at least back in Florida. They’re going to know why we’re here even if they don’t know about the case. Their knowing anything is dangerous.”
“It makes sense, but are you going to be able to stay away from her?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like you’ve been staying away from Candice.”
“It’s different, and you know it.”
“I’m not going to put Rachel in danger, and we need to be in agreement with this. So do you agree or not?”
“Yeah, whatever. I agree, Mr. Chicken Noodle.”
“Fuck off.” As soon as he pulled into an empty space, I was out of the truck and walking to the girls’ apartment. The door was locked, and after knocking quietly and getting no response, I wasted no time at all picking the lock and letting myself in.
A smile tugged at my lips as I took in Rachel wrapped up in the comforter like a burrito, Kleenex everywhere, a half-empty Gatorade bottle on the floor next to the couch, and an empty box of Sour Patch Kids on the table next to the cold and allergy medicine. I brushed the back of my hand against her forehead, making sure she hadn’t gotten a fever since I’d left her, and she rolled toward me on a groan.
“Rach, wake up,” I whispered close to her ear, and let my fingers trail down her cheek.
She grumbled again as her eyes slowly cracked open. “Time is it?”
“Almost five. You hungry?”
Shaking her head, she closed her eyes again.
Laughing softly, I kissed her forehead and spoke against it. “It’s probably because you ate the green ones when I told you not to.”
Her body went rigid for all of three seconds before she began burrowing herself deeper into the comforter and away from me.
My next laugh was louder. “Take some more medicine, and go take a hot shower; the steam will help. I’ll make you soup for when you get out.”
As soon as she was vertical and headed toward her room, I ran back to my apartment to rid myself of my badge and gun before going back to take care of her. Mason raised an eyebrow and mentioned something about lying to her for longer than necessary, but I ignored it. Lying for now meant keeping her safe. And that’s what mattered most.
7
Rachel
I was on my way into the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, I sighed when I saw it was only half past eight. Was it already Thursday? Poor Mrs. Adams.
Walking over to the door, I flipped the locks and swung open the door, a bright smile plastered on my face, prepared for her weekly crazy. What I saw on the other side of the door had my stomach dropping and all the blood draining from my head. I thought I was going to pass out in the split second it took for me to grab the door and try to slam it shut.
Blake caught the door before it closed and pushed it open enough to get in. “Good morning to you too.”
“Get out!”
“Aww. Come on, baby, don’t be like that.” He locked the door behind him and walked toward me with his arms open. I matched each step with one of my own.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What would you prefer? Princess? Sweetheart? My girl?”
“None of the above. Get. Out.” By that time I was close enough to my room that I spun around, made it in there, and locked the door behind me before Blake came crashing into it.
“Open the damn door, Rachel!” he yelled, beating on it.
I ran over to my nightstand and grabbed my phone to call Kash, but my fingers were moving so slowly I still hadn’t gotten my password in when Blake broke the door right off the hinges. I screamed as he turned me around and shoved me into the wall, my head cracking against it. I started seeing black spots and struggled to keep myself standing.
“Why do you always do this? You know you do this to me, baby! I don’t want to hurt you!”
I tried to take a step to the side but ended up falling over. Blake caught me before I could hit the ground. He scooped me into his arms and placed me gently on the bed as he brought his mouth to mine. I pressed my lips into a hard line and turned my head away from him.
“Stop! Please!” I screamed again, hoping that someone would hear.
“If you can’t keep that mouth of yours shut, I’ll keep it shut for you. Do you understand me?”
I gathered what saliva I had and spit in his eye, earning me a hard blow across my face. I cried out in pain and tried to bring my hands up to block another in case it came, but I couldn’t force them to move. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a roll of duct tape.
I tried to ask why he was doing this to me, but my words came out as more of a whimper than anything. The next thing I knew, he was placing a strip of tape over my mouth and gathering my hands over my head to tape my wrists together. I was choking on a sob, and I worked hard to keep it down so I could continue to breathe.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, sweetheart. Why do you have to be so difficult?” he crooned as he kissed my forehead, cheeks, and nose.
Blake took his time making a trail of kisses up and down my neck, eventually leading toward my chest. He grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up so it was covering my face, leaving my breasts bare. I tried turning my body away from him but he crushed his weight onto my hips, keeping me on my back. He explored every inch of my torso and chest before pulling down my pajama shorts and underwear. I wasn’t able to hold back my sob any longer. I tried kicking at him but he was still pinning my legs down.
“I know you want me and this whole playing-hard-to-get act is getting old. I will have you, so stop fighting.” I could feel his warm breath coming through the shirt covering my face, and his lips went to my ear. “Or don’t, it’s up to you. If you want it rough, then that’s how I’ll give it to you. But one way or another, I will break you, and I will own you. You. Are. Mine.”
My body stopped shaking momentarily as a chill ran down my spine and I became covered in goose bumps.
“That’s what I thought.”
Tears burned my eyes as I shook violently, my sobs growing weaker and weaker as Blake claimed my body. Why wasn’t anyone coming to save me? How had no one heard my screams or Blake breaking down the door? Kash’s face flashed through my mind and I clung to that image while my body lay there lifelessly. I turned my face to the side and stared into nothingness as tears fell onto my shirt. I wondered if anyone had ever felt the kind of hate I felt for this man.
When it was over, Blake lowered his body onto mine and kissed my neck before whispering in my ear, “You’re mine, Rachel. I’ll never let you go.”
I jerked upright and let out a scream. Confused, I looked around me at the perfectly messy bedroom and my hands flew to my face. It was wet with tears, but there was no duct tape. My bedroom door was intact, and I was alone in my bed. Falling back onto the pillows, I tried to slow my racing heart and looked at the clock on my nightstand. It was almost eight. I must have fallen asleep again after Candice left for cheer camp. A sob hitched in my throat and finally broke free in relief. It was only a dream. Blake wasn’t here.
But it had felt so real.
Needing to get out of that bed, I jumped up, tore the sweat-soaked sheets off the bed, and put them in the wash. My body was still violently shaking as I turned the water on in the shower as hot as it would go. This wasn’t the first nightmare I’d had of him, not even close. But it was by far the worst. I welcomed the burn of the water and scrubbed every inch of my body three times before stepping back out. My skin was red and blotchy as I shakily grabbed my toothbrush and brushed my teeth twice.
I still didn’t feel clean.
Dream or not, I felt violated all over again. Everything from the night with Blake came flooding back to me and mixed with what my subconscious had tortured me with. I could still feel his weight on me—feel him in me. I could hear his voice ringing in my ears, and my cheeks stung like I’d actually been hit.
I dressed in loose sweatpants, threw on a tank top, and pulled my dad’s old rugby sweatshirt on. It was the middle of the summer, and our apartment wasn’t very cool, but I was still shaking and felt a chill that was bone-deep working its way through my body.
Making my way through the living room, I’d almost reached the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. Dread filled me and my eyes immediately flashed to the clock on the microwave. Half past eight. Oh God. Oh no. Another knock and I forced my gaze back to the door as my tears spilled over.
“Rachel, dear? Are you there?”
A half sob, half sigh burst from my chest and I slowly made my way to the door, unlocked the dead bolt, and opened it. “H-hi, M-Mrs. Adams.”
“Oh, Rachel! There you are! You must come quick, all the cats have disappeared.”
“I-I . . . I can’t today, Mrs.—”
“No, you must! Come quick, they’re all gone!” She grabbed my hand and I jerked back; she didn’t notice as she began rambling about all of her cats leaving her.
The door directly across from mine opened, revealing Kash and Mason in nothing but workout shorts and running shoes. They laughed at something and Kash turned toward me; a smile covered his face the instant he saw me there with Mrs. Adams but fell when his eyes narrowed in on me.
“Rach?” he called, and hit Mason’s arm. Mason turned from locking their door as Kash took the few steps toward us. “Rachel, what’s wrong?”
“The cats, dear.” Mrs. Adams looked at him with a worried expression. “They’ve all gone! Rachel must help me find them.”
His wide eyes searched my face and I dropped my head quickly; my wet hair fell like a useless curtain and I flinched when Kash grabbed my free wrist. He dropped it quickly and spoke softly. “You know, Mrs. Adams, Rachel isn’t feeling well. I’ll help you find your cats today.”
“Oh, but—you’re a boy! They won’t respond to a boy!”
“Yes they will, Mrs. Adams. I helped you find them last week, don’t you remember?”
“Well then come, hurry! We need to find them.” She turned and shuffled back toward her door. “Smokey! Honey, come back to Mama!”
“Rachel, are—”
The buzzer on the washer sounded and I jumped back, hitting the half-open door and almost falling when it swung the rest of the way from my weight.
“Christ, Rach!” Kash grabbed for me and his eyes got wide again when he felt my body vibrating. “Mase! Take her into our apartment, I’ll be right back.”
“N-no. I’m fine.” I pulled away from him, but he brought me out of the doorway and handed me to Mason. Jerking back again, I pleaded on a sob, “Stop touching me!”
Both guys dropped their hold on me and their hands went up, as if they were surrendering. Mason’s deep voice was soft and slow. “Sweetheart, come on. I won’t touch you. Let’s just get you in our apartment. All right? Are you feeling sick? Do you want me to call Candice?”
“No! Please don’t—don’t call her!”
“Okay, I won’t. Come on, sweetheart. We’ll take care of you.”
I glanced over to see Kash looking at me helplessly as I followed Mason toward their door. With one last worried look, he shut my front door, turned, and began calling out for Smokey as he tried to get Mrs. Adams to go back into her apartment.
Kash
WHAT THE FUCK just happened? I looked at the door to my apartment once more as I followed Mrs. Adams into hers.
“There you go, Mrs. Adams. There they all are.”
“Oh, dears! Why did you scare Mama like that? I’ve missed you so!” She grabbed a pillow off her chair and hugged it tight.
“Do you need anything else, Mrs. Adams?” Please, God, say no. I was itching to get back to my apartment and Rachel.
“No, thank you, boy! You helped save all my babies.”
I smiled and backed out of her apartment. “See you next Thursday, Mrs. Adams.” I was out the door and running the few steps over to mine before she could say anything else.
As soon as I entered, my eyes searched until they landed on Rachel, knees up to her chest, chin on her knees, and arms wrapped tightly around her legs. She wasn’t looking at me, but it was obvious she didn’t want to be. I took one step toward her before Mason cleared his throat and nodded toward his room. Grinding my teeth, I looked at Rachel once more and followed him into his room.
“Did she say anything?”
“No, but, dude. You—I think maybe . . . well, she . . .” He trailed off.
“What, Mason? Spit it the fuck out.”
He leaned closer. “Remember when we were in with Luis and his boys?”
That was our first undercover; how was I supposed to forget anything about that time? “Yeah, Rach isn’t on crack.”
“No, no. Not that. Do you remember the girls they’d pass around? Not the hookers,” he added before I could respond.
“Yes,” I hissed, and looked at the shut door, then back to him. “Don’t tell me she—”
“Kash, I’m sorry. But she’s acting just like they did. It’s already over ninety degrees and she’s shaking in sweats. She’s not sick, she looks like she’s just gotten out of a shower, and she freaked when we touched her. Think about it.”
“No, no way.” I shook my head and took a few steps away from him.
“Look, I know what she means to you,” he whispered, “but try to look past what you feel for her. Did you see how she was curling in on herself when you walked in? We’ve seen this enough times before to know what’s going on.”
I raked my hands through my hair and tried to force the images out of my mind. “I’ll kill anyone that’s laid a finger on her.” Turning, I started storming out of his room, but he put a hand on my chest and pushed back.
“Maybe I should be the one to handle this; you should go.”
“The fuck I will!” I hissed, and smacked his arm away.
“If what I think happened to her has happened, then she needs someone to comfort her and make her feel safe. You going in there already pissed off that someone may have raped her isn’t going to help her; you’re going to scare her more!”
I swallowed back bile and took deep breaths through my nose. “When would this have even happened? Someone is always with her.”
“No, we’re not, there’s days when Candice doesn’t get home for hours after we’ve already gone into work. Not including the days we have to go to the pol—bar . . . for meetings. It could have been at any time. But, Kash, we don’t know that it has happened yet. So let me handle this.”
“No, you need to go. She means the world to me, not you. I need to be there for her.”
“That’s exactly why it needs to be me!” he said, and I knew he was right but I didn’t care.
“Mase. Go. Now.”
“You’re going to—”
“ Go.”
He sighed heavily. “Don’t fuck this up, Kash.”
When he was gone, I took my time just breathing and trying to rein in my temper before walking back out into the empty living room. What the hell? She was gone. I rushed over to the front door, but Rachel walked out of my bedroom putting her hair up. The fakest smile I’d ever seen crossed her face when she spared me a glance.
“Have you eaten breakfast? I can make pancakes.”
What? “I’m not hungry, Rach, come talk to me.”
“You’re always hungry.” She walked past me and into the kitchen.
“If you’re hungry, we can get something later. But for now, come talk to me about what just happened.”
She faltered somewhat but kept walking into the kitchen. When she hit the pantry she shrugged and looked over her shoulder at me. “Mrs. Adams caught me at a bad time, I was just getting out of the shower. I didn’t feel like helping her this week.”
“Bullshit, you’re the only one who will help her. You said she needs it. Why were you crying?”
“Cramps.”
“Woman, get the fuck out of the kitchen and come talk to me!”
Her body went rigid as she turned to completely face me. Her blue eyes were massive and after a few seconds she laughed awkwardly and turned back to the open pantry. “First time in the history of the world a female was told to get out of the kitchen.”
“Damn it, Rachel. I’m not kidding! I want to know what the fuck happened to you; you’re done throwing up your damn shield with me!” Calm down, man. Calm the hell down. You’re going to scare her and she’s going to run rather than talk to you. “Rachel.” I lowered my voice and spoke softly. “Get your ass on the couch. Now.”
Without a word, she made her way back into the living room and sat on the far corner of the main couch, exactly where she’d been when I walked in earlier. Taking another deep breath, I forced myself to sit on the opposite side when all I wanted to do was pace or pull her into my arms. I waited until I’d fully calmed down before saying anything. She still had yet to look at me since she’d sat down, and I decided this was the day I’d throw out that shield for good. I never wanted her to use it around me again.
Praying to God that Mason and I were wrong about this, I started off how I would with anyone else I was questioning. Like I knew exactly what they were hiding. “Tell me who the guy is who did this to you.”
Her head snapped up and her eyes widened before she could look away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her body started shaking again and she pulled her knees up to her chest like earlier.
Oh fuck. No, Rach . . . God, no. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I kept going. “When did it happen?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she repeated.
“What’s his name?”
“Whose?”
“Do you know him, or was it a stranger?”
She paused before answering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kash.”
“You know him. Does Candice know about this?”
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
God, baby, trust me, I don’t want to be. “When did it happen?”
We continued to go in circles as I asked the same questions over and over, and then asked somewhat different variations of the same questions, every now and then throwing in an assumption, and after almost ten minutes, the tears started falling down her face. It killed me, but I couldn’t stop. I kept my voice monotone and forced myself to stay in my spot on the couch as her body tried hopelessly to curl in on itself while it vibrated almost forcefully. When I finally had her on the edge, I softened my voice and asked the question I didn’t want to know the answer to but needed to.
“When were you raped, Rachel?”
“I wasn’t raped!” she yelled, and her hands flew up to her face as a sob left her. Her shoulders began shaking harder with the sobs that were now coming, and I ground my jaw as I waited for her. “He didn’t—he wasn’t able to finish—Candice came back!” she cried. “He tried . . . he started to, but she came back. I tried to get him off me! He was choking me, I couldn’t breathe.”
“So, Candice knows?”
Her head shook furiously back and forth. “I tried—tried to tell her. She wouldn’t listen, and she won’t believe me. She . . . everyone thinks he can do no wrong. But he’s crazy, Logan.” She looked at me, her tear-streaked face breaking my heart as she willed me to understand. “He told me no one would believe me, he said I was his and he wouldn’t let anyone touch me. H-he’s crazy, I swear!”
“What’s his name?” She shook her head again and I wanted to shake her. “I need to know his name, Rach. What’s his name?”
“He works at the school. I have to see him every day because of my major. Candice too. But no one will believe you. Everyone loves him.”
This sick fuck 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.
