He huffed and uncrossed his legs before switching which one was on top. “Isn’t it enough that I buy you those, and braved buying you tampons last week?”

My cheeks flooded with heat, but I squared my shoulders and stared him down. “Well if I was home, you wouldn’t have had to worry about that! It’s not my fault you weren’t prepared for having a woman locked up for this long.”

His face dropped and turned an odd shade of white for his normally tan skin. “I’m sorry—”

“I know you are, and I know you don’t even have to do what you’ve been doing. So thank you, but could you just humor me, and help me pick out a color? Please?”

“Sure,” he said softly, and didn’t bother standing as he crawled over to the mattress. His brow drew together as he studied the different colors, and picked them up individually, before picking up two at a time and setting one aside.

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 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 fucking 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.”

Silence continued to greet me, so I opened the file and pulled out the large photographs, keeping them facing me.

“You know what else I find funny? That Serena and Nadia finally got over their hate for each other. Good to see they became friends and are living together.” I put down the photograph of the girls’ house on the table, facing up. “Even better, they are helping each other raise the kids.” I slapped down the picture of Serena, Nadia, and all seven kids playing out front on the table. “Jesus Christ, can you imagine having to go from not working, to supporting seven kids combined?”

Deon’s and Luke’s eyes were wide, and their breathing had deepened, but still they weren’t saying anything.

“Oh, but don’t worry about that either. Because Nadia and Serena were getting along so well, they got a job together.” I laid down three pictures of the girls in next to nothing, standing on a corner, and leaning into car windows.

Deon’s hands fisted on top of the tables, and the chains tightened when he tried to pull them into his lap to hide them.

“But, as we all know, your whores had meth habits. And from what their new supplier is telling me, they’re spending a lot on it. When they’re not fucking other guys to get it, that is. So, of course, this has been happening quite a bit.” I smacked down a picture of both girls unconscious on the couch of their home, with glass pipes on the table. “Which obviously means this happened.” I laid down a series of pictures of child protective services taking the children from the home, and both Nadia and Serena being arrested. I clicked my tongue and huffed a laugh. “Ah, man, good times.”