“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 f**k 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 f**k 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 f**k 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 f**k 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.
“What are you wearing?” Her voice was hoarse from crying and I handed her the bottle of water.
“Well, you came over in sweats. I figured I missed the memo or something and had to get in on the party.”
She looked at the TV and back to me, and a small smile cracked when she took the ice cream and spoon from me.
I’d pushed her enough today. I hated knowing what I knew and vowed to one day find out who this guy was. Hopefully now that she knew she could talk to me, she’d open up more when she was ready. But anything more today would be too much. So I settled into the couch and pretended to watch the movie instead of her every move. After a while, she handed me back the half-empty container and leaned against my shoulder. My arm automatically went around her and I pulled her close to my side.
“Thank you, Kash,” she whispered a couple minutes later.
“Anything for you, Rach. I’m here whenever you need to talk.” Pressing my lips to her forehead, I kept them there as I said, “And I will always protect you.”
We were still sitting there watching the movie when Mason came back from his run. He nodded at us, and when he came back out of his room after a shower, he was dressed in sweats as well. He grabbed the melting ice cream and tried to squeeze himself onto the couch on the other side of Rachel.
She laughed and curled closer into my side. “You guys are the best.”
“You think we’re going to let you veg on the couch alone?” Mason said, scoffing. “Sweetheart, you obviously don’t know us that well. I mean, it’s gonna be a hundred degrees today. How else would I spend the day than in sweats?”
Rachel kicked at his leg and he squeezed her knee. After a few minutes of watching the movie, Mason caught my gaze over Rachel’s head. He quickly looked down at her and raised an eyebrow, the question clear in his eyes. I nodded once and the color drained from his face. He swallowed hard and grabbed one of Rachel’s hands. She laughed lightly at something from the movie and his eyes came back to mine. They were determined, and he looked like he was struggling at relaxing his now-murderous expression.
I knew exactly how he felt.
He didn’t have to say anything to me. We’d worked together long enough to know that we’d both just agreed to find the bastard. And make him pay.
8
Kash
“WOMAN!” I SHOUTED, and shook Rachel’s bed roughly. “Wake up.”
She shot straight up, her eyes wide in panic as she looked around her room before settling them on me. “God, I thought earthquakes had followed me to Texas.” Taking a calming breath, she brushed her wild hair back from her face and scowled at me. “What is wrong with you? And what time is it—seven? Really, Kash?”
“Get up and get ready.”
“No.” Pulling the covers up past her shoulders, she sank back into the mattress and shut her eyes.
Hell. No. “This is your last warning, Rach. Get up.”
A single snort was her only reply.
“Such a pain in my ass,” I mumbled, and walked to the foot of the bed. Grabbing the bottom of the comforter, I ripped it off the bed and dropped it on the ground.
“Oh my God, what if I had been nak*d?!”
I raised an eyebrow and let my gaze run over her body. I wouldn’t have minded. Ah shit, now I was getting hard and the jersey material of these shorts wouldn’t hide that fact. Think about Mrs. Adams and her fake cats. Think about Mrs. Adams and her fake cats! “Moot point; you’re not. Now, get your ass out of bed.”
“Give me at least another couple hours. I just went to sleep.”
“Not my fault, and you’ve had more than enough chances to get up yourself.”
“Kash, please,” she whined.
“Don’t whine. It’s not attractive.” Without giving her any more time, I scooped her into my arms and threw her over my shoulder before heading toward her bathroom.
A low oompf left her before she began bitching at me. “I am going to gut you, you freakin’ a**hole! Seven in the damn morning, what the hell is wrong with you?! Put me down—ugh! Easy, this shit hurts. You have really bony shoulders, has anyone ever told you that?” She gasped when I turned the shower water on. “Put me down right now, Logan Hendricks, or I swear to all that is holy you will regret the day you moved in across from me and almost took my Jeep door off!”