Deceiving Lies (Forgiving Lies 2)

He shrugged and punched at the buttons on the wall. “There’s only so much you can do to get them to go in a different direction. He wanted to follow his brother.”

The call from last night ended up being a drive-by involving a newer gang that we’d come across recently, and one of the two victims had been L’il Tay, a thirteen-year-old who Mason had been trying to get off the streets over the last few months. And though Mason was acting like this was just another case, I knew this was harder for him than the rest.

Knowing there was nothing I could say, I clapped his shoulder and let him be alone with his thoughts. Grabbing my phone, I smiled when I was finally able to open Rachel’s text from last night.

SOUR PATCH:

Just so you know . . . cleaning up from a whipped cream war without you isn’t nearly as fun. See you when you get home. Love you.

We just finished up, be home soon babe. Love you too.

The doors to the elevator opened and we stepped in. As they were closing, someone started yelling my name from down the hall, and Mason caught the door just in time.

“Ryan! Gates!” Sergeant Ramirez ran toward us, and as soon as he was in the elevator he started pounding on the CLOSE DOORS button.

I suppressed a groan. All I wanted to do was get home to Rachel and Trip.

“We already have three units at the scene, and I’ll be following you there.”

Ramirez was a K-9 unit, why were they wanting his dog, Crush, there . . . and what scene? “Wha—”

“I know you’re anxious to get there, but you know we’re doing everything we can for this.” The elevator was already moving, but Ramirez kept stabbing at the ground-level button. “How are you holding up? You look really calm, are you in shock? Maybe you should let Gates drive.”

That seemed to snap Mason out of his thoughts. His hand jerked away from his mouth and his eyes widened. “Why would I need to drive?”

“And why would I be in shock?” My heart started racing as Ramirez started hitting the OPEN DOORS button.

Ramirez shot us a strained, sympathetic look before ushering us out to the underground parking lot. “You weren’t informed?”

“Of what?” I was supposed to be the one in shock. So it had something to do with me. Everyone close to me starting flipping through my mind until a sinking feeling hit my chest and stomach. Oh God . . . Rachel. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry, I thought someone already told you, you were supposed to be informed already,” he mumbled to himself as he kept walking toward the lot. “Look, I’m sorry I’m the one that has to tell you this.” He stop

ped walking abruptly and turned to look at me. His expression was one I had seen so many times, and had even had to use myself. It felt like time slowed as I waited for him to tell me one of fifty scenarios that were speeding through my mind. “A call came in to dispatch about an hour ago. It was your fiancée, Ryan. The only thing that came from her end of the call was her saying her name, someone had broken in—”

I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I took off running for my truck and had just gotten to the driver’s door when Mason slammed me into the side and ripped the keys from my hand. After barking at me to get in the passenger seat, he fired up the engine and peeled out of the lot.

“This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening, Mase, tell me this isn’t fucking happening!”

“Kash—”

“Damn it!” I roared and punched at the dashboard. “I don’t even know if she’s okay, Mason! What was Ramirez saying, did he say if she’s okay? Is she— Oh God. Rach, baby, please be alive,” I whispered and slumped into my seat, raking my hands over my face.

I heard Mason on the phone calling into dispatch and asking questions about what had happened, but I couldn’t focus on his exact words or the muffled response coming from the dispatcher. I just kept praying over and over again that she was okay. I could deal with our place being broken into. I could replace all that. But I couldn’t replace Rachel.

Mason nudged my arm and I snapped my head to the left to look at him. “Sorry, you weren’t responding. They don’t know if she’s alive, but there’s no blood. So just focus on that, Kash.”

“W-what? No . . . What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel. “From what units at the scene—uh, your place—are saying, whoever broke in . . . they uh, they took Rachel.”

Mason was saying something else, but I couldn’t hear anything past the blood rushing through my ears. When we got to the house, the front door was hanging like it had been kicked in, but the rest of the front looked completely normal. Save for the dozens of officers and detectives that were walking in and out of it. Remembering the faux-wall in the closet, I prayed like hell that Rachel was using it and took off for the large closet in the bathroom.

When I flipped on the light in the closet, dread filled me when I saw the drag marks on the carpet. I called one of the officers that had been taking pictures of the bedroom to get a few pictures of the carpet before I walked in, and all hope left me when all I found behind that wall was our puppy. I grabbed him and pulled him into my chest as I fell back against the wall, and the tears that had been threatening started spilling over.

“Kash, you need to see this,” Mason said softly from the doorway to the closet. I looked over at him, rolled to my knees, and stood. “Give me Trip. Go into the bedroom and look at the wall. We’ll find her, okay? I swear to you we’ll find her.”

I handed him the golden retriever and rushed into the bedroom, which looked like a hurricane had hit it. My eyes widened when they finally landed on the wall opposite our bed. A roar filled the room, and before I could realize it came from me, two officers were holding me back and trying to get me to sit down on the bed.