“You okay?”
I breathed in the cinnamon scent that clung to Kash from the gum he was always chewing, and fell deeper into his chest. “I will be.”
Kissing the top of my head, he leaned back so he was lying against the arm of the couch and I was on top of him, as he had so many times before, and waited a few minutes before asking, “Did you want to talk about it?”
“There’s not a lot to say. I feel bad for him, but know there’s nothing I can do. If anyone in that house was tortured, it was him. He hated who he was, and what he had become; he honestly didn’t see a way to get out of it, though. He has very dark eyes, but they’re really descriptive. It wasn’t hard to see how the years in the gang tormented him every day. All I’ve wanted for him was for that torture to go away.”
“Like he said in the letter, sometimes they don’t have a choice, Rachel. I don’t know why he was in it in the first place, but sometimes you’re recruited whether you want to be or not. Sometimes it’s about your blood family, and sometimes it’s because of a crime you’ve done. But to get out, Rach, it’s practically impossible to get out.”
I stilled against his chest, and he hurried to continue.
“I’m not telling you to upset you more. I’m just letting you know he was probably living the way he was in order to stay alive. From what you’ve told me, and from his letter, I’m sure you’re right, sweetheart. I’m sure he’s not a bad person deep down.”
“He really isn’t,” I unnecessarily argued in Trent’s defense.
Kash’s lips pressed down against my head, and he kept them there as he said, “I know. How could he be? He kept you safe and was trying to bring you back to me.”
I looked up into his gray eyes and searched them before asking, “So you believe me now? You don’t hate him anymore?”
“Well, he did admit in that letter that he was in love with you. You can’t expect me to really be okay with any man loving you.” His mouth curled up on one side in a smirk before his expression went back to serious. “But I do respect him, and I am thankful for him. It’s hard, knowing that he took you and he was the cause of that month from hell. Knowing that he was most likely forced into gang life, and that he was forced into doing what he did, I understand that all too well. Mason and I had to do a lot we aren’t proud of. There are some things that you still don’t know, and if you ever want to, I’ll tell you. But you have to be prepared for what you might find out . . . We had to live with them, and live like them. So because of that time in my life, I understand him in a sense, but only to an extent.
“What Mason and I did was for the betterment of the city, and while we had to do bad things, we were doing it with the knowledge that those men were all about to go away for a very long time and wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else again. With Trent, he didn’t have the satisfaction in the end that he was still helping people, until he met you. So I guess to answer your question, no, I don’t hate him. I can’t hate him because I understand him too well. There are some things that I wish hadn’t happened, but they did, and we’re moving on from them.”
I let my fingers run over the muscles of his chest and shoulders before making their way up to hold his face in my hands. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to smile or cry because I was so in love with this man, and so thankful for him. Instead I just continued to stare at him and finally whispered, “There are times when you know exactly what to say, and your words leave me speechless.”
“I’ve been known to make good speeches on Wednesdays.”
I huffed and grabbed a chunk of his hair before pulling on it. “Way to kill the mood, and it’s Thursday, you ass.”
His face remained serious as he said, “I’ve been known to make good speeches on Thursdays.”
Rolling my eyes, I started to push off the couch, but his arms caged in around my back and brought me back onto his chest.
“There are still times when I stop dead in my tracks when I see you, and wonder how you’re mine. You’re beautiful; and your fire for life, and strength after everything you’ve been through, amazes me. So if anyone leaves the other speechless, it’s you.”
My heart pounded in my chest and a smile broke across my face. I couldn’t have contained it even if I wanted to. “I love you, Logan Kash Ryan, and I’m so thankful for you.”
“Ditto, Sour Patch.”
I closed my eyes, shook my head, and laughed softly at his breathy words. Funny how I still hated that nickname, but my heart fluttered every time he said it. I hadn’t forgotten the longing to hear him say it again while I was with Trent, because I knew hearing him say it meant seeing him again. And I knew that no matter how ridiculous it was, I would never complain about it again.
“Rachel, open your eyes.”
As soon as my eyes fell on his, he sat up and pressed his lips to mine for the first time since my second morning back home. A high-pitched moan rose up the back of my throat before I relaxed into his body and returned the long-awaited kiss that he’d saved for the perfect moment.
His lips moved slowly against mine, and soon his tongue was parting my mouth and teasing my own. A collective sigh filled the silent space between us, and his full lips tilted up in a smile before he captured my mouth again. I moved my legs so I was straddling his hips, and dug my knees into the couch as I deepened the kiss. My hands wove their way through his messy hair to hold his face to mine, and his hands on my back trailed down my body until they landed on my hips to press our bodies closer together.
Kash placed openmouthed kisses down my jaw and throat, and I let my head fall back as I rocked against him. Goose bumps covered my skin and the softest of moans sounded in my chest at the friction I’d been craving. I rocked over where he was straining against his jeans, and my eyes rolled back when he gently bit down on my throat.
“Kash . . .”
He released my hips and grabbed my cheeks to bring my lips down to his again, and I sat up and reached in between us, grabbing at the buckle on his belt. I’d just gotten it undone, and was grabbing for the button when his hands wrapped around my wrists and moved them above our heads.
“Why—”
“Just this for now.” He let go of my hands and pushed me back an inch so he could look in my eyes. “Trust me, I want every part of you. But with what we’ve had to overcome the last few weeks, I’m not going to rush that. Just like we didn’t rush anything else.”
Some small part of me could understand what he was saying, but I was wearing the thinnest cotton shorts known to man, and with each ragged breath in, I was slowly losing the last bit of control I had.
“Rachel, I’m saying the words . . . but if you don’t get off me soon, I’m not going to be following through with them.”
I looked directly into his eyes and ground my body against his, and the sexiest growl I’ve ever heard from him left his lips. “Then don’t follow through.”
“Sonofabitch,” he whispered through gritted teeth and his fingers flexed against the skin between my shirt and shorts. “Rach, no. I— Shit.” He sat us up and gently pushed me back so I was no longer on his lap. “Rachel, you still shut yourself in the closet when you change; and when I start to do the same, you leave the room. I don’t want you to force yourself to change that now, but I know you’re not ready yet, and that’s okay.”
Sitting back, I pulled my knees up to my chest and stopped immediately after my head began shaking. Oh God, I do shut the door. “I just, I never had privacy . . .”
“Rachel, I get it. It’s fine, but just trust me to know when you’re ready again, okay?”
Looking back into his stormy gray eyes, I gave him a small smile and nodded. “All right.”
He kissed me hard and rested his forehead against mine. “But now I need to go take a really cold shower. So I’ll be back . . . in a while.”
I laughed and snuck in another kiss before pushing him away. “Go, I’ll make pancakes.”
He stopped midstep and turned to face me. “You??
?re perfect.”
“I know.”
His eyes slowly ran over the length of my body when I stretched out on the couch, and I watched as his eyes got hooded, an unmistakable desire hitting them.
“Shower, Kash.”
“Right . . . uh, I’ll be back.”
I waited for a few minutes before letting my fingers run over the hardwood until they hit the used journal. Picking it up, I opened the cover and carefully worked back the binding until I felt the paper hidden inside. I never had gotten around to telling Kash about this in my entries to him. By the time I’d felt like I was in danger again, I couldn’t get to my journal. Unfolding the paper, I let my eyes fall over the tear-stained letter before shutting the journal, placing it on the coffee table, and leaving the note on top.
Day 1 with journal
Kash—
If you’ve found this, and I’m with you, then you know that I love you, and let me take this time to remind you that I will love you with everything that I am for the rest of our lives. I hope that by now I’m getting tired of hearing the name Sour Patch again, but, please, don’t ever stop calling me that. No matter how much I say I hate it, it reminds me of when we first met, and I love those memories.
I hope we’re already fighting again. Couples are afraid to fight with each other, but fighting with you is one of the things I miss the most. You drive me crazy, and I know you push my buttons on purpose, but you also don’t put up with my bullshit, and that’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with you.
Knowing you, I’m probably making you pancakes as you read this. And I guarantee you I’m already tired of those, but I’ll continue to make them as long as I can continue eating your green Sour Patch Kids.
But . . . if you’re finding this, and I’m gone, please know that I loved you fiercely up until the very end. I know you did everything to try and find me, don’t blame yourself for any of this, because I don’t blame you. Take care of Trip, and take care of yourself. Don’t be afraid to fall in love again, I can’t stand to think of you spending the rest of your life alone. Love her as much as you’ve loved me, and I pray the woman knows how lucky she is to have a man like you by her side.
. . . I know you, Kash; you come in and save the day at the last minute . . . so I’ll be here, waiting for you at the “last minute.” But no matter what happens, Logan Kash Ryan, you’re still my hero.
I love you.
Always.
—Rachel
21
Rachel
I WAS MIXING THE BATTER for pancakes when Kash strode back into the living room. He smiled devilishly at me as his eyes slid over to the coffee table and then did a double take. Looking back over to me with a raised brow, I answered his silent question the same way. I simply shrugged, dropped my eyes, and kept stirring. When I heard the sound of rustling paper, I looked up under my eyelashes and held my breath as he read my first—and what I’d been afraid would end up being my last—letter to him.
So many different emotions played over his face as he read it. His lips tilted up in a soft smile at first, and slowly grew larger until he huffed a laugh and his eyes flicked up to me quickly. But just as soon as they were back, all humor left his handsome face, and his forehead tightened seconds before he began sucking on his lip ring. Suddenly his mouth popped open and he slowly looked back up at me, his gray eyes glassy with tears. With a slight shake of his head, he forced his eyes back down to the paper and finished reading the letter.
I knew when he had finished, because even though his head was somewhat bent over the letter, his eyes weren’t focused on the paper. He stood there for what felt like hours before he let the letter fall from his fingers to the table and walked over to me.
Reaching over, he unplugged the griddle and grabbed the batter before turning to put it in the fridge.
“Let me make this, you need to eat.”
“I’ll live.” His voice was low and rough as he reached for my hand and towed me to the bedroom. He called for Trip to follow us and waited until he was in the room before shutting the door and taking me to the bed. Sitting me down on the edge of it, he began pacing back and forth with his hands on his hips.
“I’d kept it hidden in the binding, do you—”
“Rachel,” he said, cutting me off. Abruptly he’d stopped pacing and placed a hand on each side of me, his face directly in front of me. “I refuse to take care of myself alone. You take care of me, and I’ll take care of you, and together we’ll take care of Trip.”
“Okay . . .”
“And don’t ever tell me again to love another woman the way I have loved you, and will always love you. There is no way you could have expected me to move on after you.”
“You say that now, but you don’t know how you would have felt in a few years.”
He grabbed my face in his hands and his voice shook as he shouted, “I don’t give a shit! I know I don’t know how I would feel in that situation, there’s no way to know that. But I know that no matter what happens in our lives, if you were taken from me for good, there would never be anyone else like you. There would never be anyone else I could love the way I love you.”
“Kash, okay. I’m sorry,” I whispered and brushed the tips of my fingers against the angry set of his face. Something in my touch broke him, because a pained cry burst from his chest at the same time heavy tears fell down his cheeks.
He dropped to his knees on the floor and pressed his head against my stomach, his hands gripping my back as he cried into my lap. “I’ve come too close to losing you too many times,” he forced out. “I will do anything to keep you by my side for the rest of my life.” Looking up at me, I felt helpless staring back at his broken expression. “Knowing that you even had to consider me moving on with someone else because you might die, kills me. I hate that you went through that, and I hate that you prepared yourself for that.”
“Okay, but I’m—” My voice gave out and I had to clear my throat. “I’m here, we’re together.”
“I’m not letting you go, Rachel, for anything. It’s you and me. Always, got it?”
I nodded, unable to respond, and his head dropped back against my stomach as another sob ripped through him. I’d only ever seen Kash begin to cry twice. Usually when he was upset, he got angry. So to see him break like this was absolutely breaking my heart. I kept one hand holding his head in my lap, and ran the other over his back. The muscles bunched and shuddered beneath my fingertips as he let everything out.
As he let everything go.
I could only imagine that this went so much deeper than what had been written in the letter, and what it had signified. This was all the lies, this was Blake, this was the months apart, and this was the torture that Kash had gone through while I’d been kidnapped.
Kash eventually climbed onto the bed with me, and he pulled me close after his tears had subsided and his breathing had evened out. For countless minutes after, we lay there, staring into each other’s eyes . . . not saying anything. One of his hands cupped my cheek as dark gray eyes tried to convey a pain to me that I just couldn’t understand.
I didn’t know all that Kash had been through in his time as an undercover. I didn’t know what it was like to be the one looking for your significant other . . . just as he didn’t know what it was like to lose both your parents, be tortured by a man you’d grown up with, or be the one that was waiting to be found. Our pains and fears were so different that I didn’t know if we would ever fully understand the depth of the pain that the other had experienced. And yet, at the same time, I knew him, and he knew me . . . we knew when the other was terrified, or upset, and we would always be there for each other to help the other through whatever was happening at that time.
So although I couldn’t understand the grief he’d gone through that had caused this breakdown, I was here for him as he worked through it, just the same as he’d always had been there for me.
I KNOCKED ON THE LARGE DOOR and fumbled with the armful of food
as I waited for Marcy to open the door. It was the Fourth of July, and while all of Kash’s family was going to be coming to his parents’ house, Kash wouldn’t be here until later tonight. He and Mason were on call today and had been called in two hours ago . . . surprise, surprise. I needed him here; I hadn’t seen his extended family since before I’d been taken. And while I hadn’t had an issue with any member of his family, I hadn’t felt comfortable with them . . . but that could have probably had something to do with the fact that everyone seemed to keep bringing up my mom and dad. I’d ended up breaking down that night and was afraid of questions that might come up today.
After the emotionally draining night we’d had last night with Kash’s breakdown, I didn’t think I was up for one of my own. And then Kash had been so weird today . . . like he was worried about something. The way he’d kissed me right before he’d left for work had left me feeling uneasy, but I’d finally decided he was probably just as worried about me going to this party without him as I was.
“Hi, sweet girl!” Marcy said when she opened the door. “Oh, let me help you with all that. Gosh, we could have made a few trips out to the car, you didn’t have to bring it all in at once.”
I transferred some of the bags and food into her arms, and kicked the door shut behind me as I followed her inside.
“It’s so good to see you getting out more, and I’m glad you wanted to come over early! You know I love our girl time.”
My chin was holding some of the boxes down, so I had to wait until I reached the counter to answer her. But as soon as I relieved my arms of everything with a large exhale, I turned to hug Marcy and took a deep breath. “I know, it’s like I was still keeping myself locked up by not leaving the house.” I began taking things out of the bags and setting them on the counter, or putting them away in the fridge and freezer. “Hey, Marcy, I was wanting to talk to you about something.”