Deceiving Lies (Forgiving Lies 2)

I laughed softly and raised my hands in surrender when he glared at me.

“This one.” He dropped the electric blue polish in my lap and sat back but stayed close to the mattress. “You’re trying to turn me into a girl,” he grumbled and ran his hands through his shaggy hair.

“Um, not? You just have to put up with me because you signed up for the job of taking care of me. Lucky you.”

He grunted and watched as I started with my toes first, and then made my way to my fingernails.

“You having fun watching me?”

“I wouldn’t say fun is the right word, but it’s something to do. And your concentration face is cute.”

Rolling my eyes, I let the cute slide, even though I would have normally punched Mason’s or Kash’s arm if they had called anything I did cute. Not now, though. I’d take the cute title and wear it proudly if it meant being near them.

Funny how things like that change when you’re in these kinds of situations. Kash usually drove me crazy. He was so stubborn, and such a smart-ass, but I missed those annoying traits so much. I missed the way our personalities clashed and resulted in us fighting; I would give anything to fight with Kash again. The thought of having children with him used to terrify me, and now I was afraid I’d never get to have that opportunity. And I hated the nickname Sour Patch so damn much, but I would never complain about it again if it meant hearing Kash’s voice.

Tears pricked my eyes, and I blinked quickly to keep them back. Taking a deep breath in to tamper down the emotions bubbling up, I concentrated on finishing the last nail and screwed the top on before looking up at Taylor. “Do you know my name?”

“I do.”

“Why don’t you ever use it?”

He bit down on the inside of his cheek and looked away from me as he thought about what to say. “I stole you away, I didn’t meet you. When you meet someone, if they want you to know their name, they give it to you. It’s like a privilege, and you didn’t give me that privilege.”

“I named you,” I admitted softly.

He jerked his head back to look at me again, and his brow scrunched together. “What?”

“Uh, well, I named you. I was always thinking of you as him or he, and I eventually got tired of it.”

When I didn’t offer anything more, he leaned forward and put a hand out, palm up. “Well . . . ? What’s the name you gave me?”

“Taylor.” In my head, it’d been easy to think of him as Taylor, but now that it was out there, a blush was creeping up my neck and over my cheeks.

He barked out a loud laugh and leaned back. “Oh God, not you too? That’s not the first time I’ve gotten that.”

I’d been stunned by his laugh, but then joined in with him at his admission. “Well! You look just like him!”

“Thanks . . . I guess?”

“It’s a compliment, trust me.”

His dark eyes met and held mine, and I looked away momentarily to break the connection. When I looked back at him, I cleared my throat and offered a small smile. “Um, my name’s Rachel.”

“I know,” he whispered roughly.

“And yours?”

He seemed to think for a few seconds before flashing me a sad smile. “You can call me Taylor.”

My first reaction was disappointment before I realized the danger for him in this situation. He was a criminal, and I could already give a very d

etailed description to an FBI sketch artist. Knowing his real name would just add to his likelihood of being caught when this was all over. If it was ever over.

Biting back the disappointment, I smiled and offered him a hand. He took it carefully, making sure not to touch my nails. “I would say it’s nice, but that probably isn’t the right word. It’s . . . very interesting to meet you, Taylor.”

“I’m glad you decided to ‘meet’ me, Rachel.”

“Me too.” And honestly, I was. If this were under normal circumstances, I knew Taylor and I would be friends. He was a mix of Candice’s brother, Eli, and Mase. But as it was, I didn’t know how to feel about him.