I struggled to get off the bed as a mass of Rachel’s bloody hair clung to my hands. My legs got caught in the sheets and I fell out of the bed, landing on my back. I crawled away on my hands and knees, the sheets still twisted around my legs; and gave up when her screams got to an ear-piercing level. On my knees, I pressed my forehead into the floor and put my hands to my ears. My own anguished cry joined hers as I listened to her screaming for help over and over again.

“No! Stop! Help me . . . please!”

The noise stopped suddenly and I opened my eyes to stare at the carpet as I slowly removed my hands from my ears. I put my hands to the floor to push my body up and froze when my fingers grazed something. Cries started back up in the room, and my body filled with dread at what I might find next to me. Looking to the left, all the blood drained from my head and my stomach churned. Rachel’s severed fingers lay there directly below mine. Dry heaves rocked my body as the auditory assault steadily grew louder again and a new visual one began.

“Get off me! Help!”

Like a movie being

played directly in front of me—even when I closed my eyes—my worst nightmares replayed over and over. Rachel being whipped, waterboarded, and beaten. Being raped by two men. Her struggling to get out of the chains binding her to a chair firmly anchored into the ground while blinding lights surrounded her and ear-piercing sounds and music filled the room and drowned out her screams.

I pounded my fists against the carpet and my voice boomed over everything else. “Rachel!”

I sat up quickly in bed and pulled in ragged breaths as my heart and mind raced. My hand hit the right side of the bed and touched nothing but cool sheets. Trip raised his head off his paws from where he’d been sleeping near my feet, and I fell back onto the pillows with a frustrated grunt as I gripped at my hair.

“Fuck!” I yelled toward the ceiling.

Almost every night I’d dreamed of waking up next to Rachel again. But those images that haunted my every waking thought hadn’t been torturing me in my dreams as well . . . until now. I couldn’t keep doing this, I couldn’t keep wondering what had and hadn’t been real anymore. I couldn’t keep living every moment being terrified that I wouldn’t see her again. The department had been testing things, like the hair and the blood. We knew the hair wasn’t hers and the blood wasn’t even human. Two of the videos of Rachel being tortured we’d already found were actual videos found on the Internet from years ago. But there were still countless other things that they hadn’t been able to figure out if they’d been real or not. And it was driving me insane.

I slapped my hand down on the nightstand when my phone rang, and I glared at the bright display before fumbling to answer.

“Hello?”

“K-money,” he said low, and then chuckled. “Rise and shine, cupcake, it’s almost dawn.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to steady my breathing. “Don’t call me if you’re just gonna sit there and mess with me, Sunny. Do you have something for me or don’t you? Because the days that she’s been gone have more than doubled since I saw you.”

“My men have been giving me strange looks and I’ve been getting questioned because I’ve been going out on a limb for you, you got me? I’m putting my life on the line for you and your woman, so I deserve some respect from you.”

My eyes shot back open and I growled, “Don’t forget I know who you are.”

“You know, I think I’ll keep my information to myself. Have a nice day, Detective.”

I growled and slammed my free fist onto the bed. “I will bring your entire operation to the ground, and your time undercover will be over, Sunny! Do not fuck with me on this one! We had a deal!”

He didn’t say anything for a long while, and I lay there, my breathing rapid as I waited for something . . . anything.

Sitting up, I looked over at my gun sitting on the nightstand. My next words were dark and full of promise. “This is my future wife’s life you’re screwing with. If you don’t tell me what you fucking know, your so-called crew will start turning up dead one at a goddamn time, and the only one who will have a clue will be you. Leaders come up dead all the time, Sunny, and if I’m using guns from your own house, no one will ever know once you’re gone.”

“Jesus, Kash.” He didn’t sound worried about my threat. He sounded disappointed. “Fuck, you’re so far gone. Man, you need to pull back, you can’t let this change you into this.”

I was about to lose it. I was so close to breaking from all this, and as the days went by, I was getting desperate. Having Sunny tease me with information was sure to push me over the edge. “No. What I need is my girl back. I told you before, I’d do anything to get her back.”

After a few silent moments, Sunny finally said, “He has a house.”

My eyebrows slammed down and I blinked slowly. “Who has a house?”

“Juarez.”

“Yeah, and I already checked it. It’s still vacant from when we did the bust in it.”

“Uh-uh.” Sunny clicked his tongue three times. “He has another house. Ya feel?”

“House . . . do you have the address? But that still doesn’t make sense. Who would take her, the department has interviewed everyone!”

“Kash, listen.” He paused for a few moments before repeating, “Juarez has another house.”

“He has another operation?”

Tags: Molly McAdams Forgiving Lies Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net