Deceiving Lies
Page 33

 Molly McAdams

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“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 detailed 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.
All I knew was that every day I was more positive than the last that he wasn’t only my way to safety, but he was also the key to my freedom. And I was going to cling to that safety net, because my life and freedom depended on it.
11
Kash
TAKING OUT MY LIP RING, I ran my hand through my hair one more time and grabbed the file off the passenger seat of my truck before jumping out and smoothing down my tie as I walked toward the closed-off building. I went through the process of checking in and going through the metal detectors before I walked through the halls to the meeting room. I watched as families, lovers, and friends met up with inmates and talked at tables, and waited until I saw both Deon and Luke escorted in.
Their faces pulled together in confusion when they didn’t see Serena and Nadia sitting at a table waiting for them, but per my request, Deon and Luke were seated at a table in the corner. The guards stood there waiting until I walked in, and with a practiced smile and flash of my badge, excused them.
“Thank you, gentlemen, I appreciate your help today.”
When I looked down at Deon and Luke, I was met with twin glares, but neither said a word until I sat down.
“You f**king pig. We’re in here because of you.”
“Where’s your partner? Or did you two break up?”
I smirked and steadily tapped the hard edge of the file against the table. “Aw, good to see you two too.”
“Wipe the smile off your face, you piece of shit.”
“Deon, I’d like to remind you that I’m not the one shackled to a table right now.”
“I’m surprised you’re even able to smile,” Luke said, and attempted to cross his arms through the cuffs. “What was it I heard recently? Your wife was kidnapped?” He clucked his tongue and shook his head slowly. “Tragic. Just tragic. Isn’t it, Deon?”
“Absolutely. I figured you’d be more torn up about something like that. She must not be a very good lay.”
At any other time, I couldn’t imagine not lunging over the table and beating the shit out of them. But I knew this meeting was crucial, and if I let them see any emotion, if I hinted at the grief that was tearing at me, this would all be for nothing. So I kept my smile in place and continued tapping the file on the table.
I’d tried hardening myself to what was happening, and as far as everyone knew, I was too far gone to be helped. Not being able to handle the guilt and heartache, I’d stopped looking at the evidence coming in of Rachel’s torture. Now all I wanted to know every two days was if she was still alive. Anything more than that, and this facade I’d worked so hard at creating would crack. I’d lose it, and if I let myself give in to the pain and grief . . . I would be gone.
“Any luck on that case, Kash-man? Or maybe she’s dead? Maybe that’s what’s happening? Did you ever find the bastards who took her?”
“Enough of the bullshit”—I cut Luke off and set the file down—“you and I all know who took her. What I find funny is that the two of you—well, and I’m guessing the rest of the crew—still think she’s gone. She escaped, we got her back a couple days ago.”
Both men went silent, but their faces gave nothing away.
“I’d love to tell you the department’s plans, but that would just give you time to warn the men that took her. So I’ll keep that information to myself. Funny that they haven’t told you she slipped through their fingers yet. They must just be too scared because they don’t have a backup plan to get any of you out of prison yet. Oh well.”