2. Freya
2
FREYA
I wake with a start, sweat coating my skin. The plane tilts in the air and images slip from the edges of my mind. Long blonde hair. Gentle fingers. A face I can’t quite make out.
Strong hands hold my arms. “Hey, are you alright?” River asks.
I swallow. “Sorry, yeah.” I must have fallen asleep on his shoulder, and I curse myself internally because the chief of the SCU and her judgy PA are sitting across from us and drooling on River’s suit is hardly a good look.
River brushes my hair back from my face. “Bad dream?”
“What?” I shake my head. “No,” I say, not wanting him to worry. I’ve been having nightmares on and off since Angelica tortured me at the warehouse. It’s nothing I can’t handle. “Just a little disorientated. How long till we land?”
River watches me carefully. “Just under two hours.”
“Cool. I’m going to freshen up.” I slip from his grasp, speeding past Zach and Farrah, who are thankfully both buried in their phones, and head to the restroom.
I turn on the faucet and splash cool water on my face. I don’t remember what I dreamt about but my heart beats erratically and a crawling sensation lingers on the back of my neck.
I lean back against the plastic wall and close my eyes. I try to picture the face from my dream but the more I think about it the further it drifts away, like a ghost disappearing into limbo. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and shake off the feeling that I’m forgetting something important. It didn’t feel like a dream, it felt like a memory.
Maybe Farrah’s right and I remember more than I think but now is not the time to be delving into my past. My father is still out there, killing innocent women, I need to focus on catching him, not chasing ghosts.
I’m still shaken when I leave the restroom and River’s eyes find me. He tracks me as I walk down the aisle but I’m not ready for his questions, so I carry on past him and sit down opposite Oz.
He doesn’t notice me at first. I have to wave my hand in front of his screen to break his attention. “Earth to Oz. Your eyes are going square.”
He jolts before relaxing back in his seat. He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “My mom used to say that to me.” He smiles sheepishly at me.
“You should take a break.”
He sighs. “I know, it’s just…” He trails off.
I nudge his foot with mine under the table. “I get it.”
He puts his glasses back on, the rectangular frames and his ginger hair giving him Highland Scot meets Clark Kent vibes. “My parents knew her. Adelaide. Mom said she was a regular at her bookshop.”
“I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
Oz nods. “She’s strong, she’ll be okay, but I just want to be there for them. She’ll mother me like her life depends on it but I know she’ll be happier with me there.”
It’s been less than twenty-four hours since River got the call about Adelaide Janson, but Oz already looks overtired. Dark bags hide behind his glasses and his hand taps at the table, anxious to get back to his research. I’m glad he’s close with his parents but it feels wrong to be apart from him right now.
I wring my hands under the table. “Can I stay with you? At your parents?”
Oz stops fidgeting. “Yes. I’d like that.” He looks over at the guys and smirks. “I’m not sure the others will, but I will.”
I tangle my legs with his and grin when River’s suspicious eyes land on me. “They’ll get over it.” I turn back to Oz. “Also, can we loop back round to your mom owning a book shop because I think I might love her.”
Oz laughs. “She’ll be pleased to hear it.”
We talk about his family for the rest of the flight. He has five sisters, all of whom have left home except his littlest sister. Two of them are teachers, one’s a doctor, and the other works in mountain rescue up in Montana. Oz tells me about the big family Christmases they always have and I lose myself in imagining a childhood of homemade cooking and presents under the tree.
By the time we land I’ve pretty much forgotten about my dream and the mystery face.
That is, until I turn my phone off airplane mode as the jet taxies down the runway and the screen lights up with a new message. It’s from an unknown number and my hair stands on end as I click to open it, the words flashing me back to the blonde hair in my nightmare.
Unknown: Do you remember our mother?