6. Freya
6
FREYA
O z hangs up the phone. He slides it into his pocket and crosses his arms, not taking his eyes off Layla.
“Is Eli heading back?” I ask, feeling edgy at the idea of him out there on his own.
Oz shakes his head, distracted. “He’s going to take a drive.”
“Oh.” I sit down on one of the dining room chairs, my legs a little shaky from the panic I pushed down when Layla was missing. She’s safe now, leaning back against the table. Her hands grip the edge of the deep oak wood.
I’m indescribably relieved but now I’m no longer worrying about her, I’m back to stressing about Eli and how weird he was being before he left.
“So…” Layla taps her fingers against the underside of the table. “I’m gonna go up to bed.”
“Stay,” Oz orders as Layla goes to leave.
“Ozzie–”
“You were forty-five minutes late. Mom and Dad were out of their minds with worry. You didn’t even call.” Oz’s face is so stern, I feel like I’m getting a glimpse into what he’d be like as a father.
“I told you my phone died.” Layla’s gesticulates as she speaks, sharp movements cutting through the air.
Oz keeps his arms crossed and pins her still with a stare. “And I’ve told you to always make sure your phone is charged. And to not go the back route after dark.”
Layla sighs and hops up to sit on the table. “I know. I’m sorry.”
The harshness on Oz’s face slips away, showing the stress underneath. He takes off his glasses and presses a finger and thumb over his eyes. “Someone was murdered, Layla.”
Layla’s leg stops swinging. “Yeah, but, it’s not like that’s going to happen again. Murders are kind of rare and isn’t it like with plane crashes? The safest time to fly on a plane is right after a crash because everyone is hypervigilant.”
Oz’s brows dip and his mouth drops open, a combination of horror and disbelief playing on his face.
I suppress a wince for Layla’s sake.
Oz steps away from the counter and towards his sister. “You realize it is my literal job to hunt serial killers? Killers that kill more than once. It is not like plane crashes, especially not when it’s personal.”
My gaze shoots to Oz, my heart flipping. He wouldn’t tell her, would he?
Layla looks between us. “What? What do you mean personal?”
Oz sighs. “It’s not a coincidence the victim lived in Danville. The guy we’re hunting knows this is my hometown, he’s toying with us.”
I stop fiddling with the tassels on the seat cushion. I trust Oz and I love how open he is with his family, but I don’t want them knowing who my father is.
Up until everything went wrong, this evening is the closest I’ve ever felt to being normal, to being part of a family. I can’t bear the idea of that being tarnished by my past.
“You need to be careful, Layla. Just… keep a low profile for a couple of weeks. Have friends over here rather than going out, for Mom and Dad’s sake at least.
Layla nods, her ponytail bobbing up and down. “Okay. I promise.” She hops off the table and goes to leave but stops when she reaches the door. She looks back at Oz over her shoulder. “You’re going to catch him though, right?”
Oz opens his mouth, but no words come out. His gaze darts to mine then back to his sister. He opens his mouth again, then closes it.
“Yes,” I say, keeping my eyes locked on Oz for a moment before turning to Layla. “We’ll catch him.”
Eli doesn’t come back to Oz’s house. We said goodbye to River and Jude an hour or so ago and now I’m lying in Oz’s bed trying to stop myself from stressing by studying the posters on his walls and knick-knacks on the shelves.
His desk in the corner is too big for the room and every inch of it is covered with tech. I try to imagine a teenage Oz sitting in the gaming chair, lost for hours in the screens. His room is pretty much what I’d expect it to be with a lot of geeky stuff and no sign of anything sporty or any pop culture. I love that Oz is so very much himself and I get a little thrill out of the Lego Star Wars figurines lined up on the shelf and the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.
He’s so much easier to understand than Eli. Everything with Oz feels secure, steady. I never have to guess what he’s thinking because he just tells me.
It’s not like I don’t get why things are more complicated with Eli. I know being with me must be hard for him, I just thought we’d gotten past that and now I’m realizing it might not be that simple.
And then there’s Layla. I know she’s safe and that her being late was nothing to do with my dad. But it could have been. He could have taken her, just like that. And then I would be responsible for yet another person being kidnapped.
I can’t help thinking the guys and everyone they love might be safer if I wasn’t here.
What good am I even doing right now? I still haven’t told the guys about the message I got from my sister. I have no idea how she got hold of a phone or what her game is, and I know I need to tell someone but then they’ll take the phone away and I won’t be able to talk to her.
If she remembers our mother, then letting her think she has the power might be the best way to get that information out of her. Information that could help the case.
I sigh. I’m rationalizing and I know it.
I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out the yellow stick-on stars, and tell myself that’s the only reason I want to know. Because it might help the case and not because I want to remember my mother. A mother who I know is most likely dead, murdered by my father.
The door opens and Oz walks in. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, and he has a towel slung over his shoulders. He grabs either end of the towel and stops when he sees me. “What’s the matter?”
I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye and force a smile. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
He cocks his head and strolls towards the bed. The golden light from the lamp catches on his bare chest and my breath hitches at the hard ridges of his six pack. Oz may be nerdy but he’s just as strong as the others.
He lets go of the towel with one hand and brings his thumb to my cheek. He collects a runaway tear and brings it to his lips, licking the drop off the pad of his thumb.
My tummy flutters.
“You know Jude had a theory earlier that you were thinking too much, and you needed a little distraction.”
I huff out a soft laugh. “So that’s what all the teasing was about.”
Oz nods, even that simple action slow and seductive. “I think maybe I need to finish the job.”
As amazing as that sounds, nerves butterfly in my chest. Oz and I have yet to be together just him and me. “I thought you liked to watch?” I ask.
Oz hums. “And what about this situation makes you think I can’t do that?”
I frown then gasp as Oz leans over me and drags my night shorts down my legs. “You won’t be needing these.” He takes the shorts with him and goes to sit in the gaming chair, swiveling it around so he has a front row seat to me and the bed.
I track him, waiting to see where this is going.
“Open your legs,” he orders.
I wet my lips, my eyes darting to the door.
“Nuh uh, eyes on me, Freya.”
I look at Oz and the heat in his stare sends fire rolling down my chest.
His voice drops low. “I believe I gave you an order.”
I shiver from head to toe and do what I’m told, drawing my knees up a little and letting my legs fall open.
Oz’s gaze lowers to my core. He grits his teeth and presses the hand holding my shorts against his hardening cock. He’s still got his sweatpants on and for some reason that makes it hotter. I can’t see what I’m doing to him, but I know.
“Take your right hand. Trail your fingers along your thigh, from your knee to your needy cunt.”
God, he has such a dirty mouth. I do as he says, my own touch leaving a line of heat behind as if it were his fingers not mine.
“Stop.”
I freeze, my fingers a breath away from my throbbing core.
“Again.”
I take my hand back to my knee, watching Oz to make sure that’s what he wants.
He dips his head, his eyes hooded.
I get a little further this time before he tells me to stop once more. The next time he gets me to drag my fingers through my soaked pussy before going back to my knee. We play this game over and over, Oz allowing me to stay a little longer where I want to be each time until I’m whimpering.
“Oz, please,” I moan.
He smiles a little. “Begging won’t help, Mo Leannan. This show’s for me, not you.”
Every time he speaks my core clenches. No one has ever gotten me as hot as Oz can with his words. I tip my head back and stare at the stars, trying to calm my racing heart.
“Two fingers to your mouth. Suck them.” His orders are getting shorter, his voice more strained.
I swirl my tongue around my fingers, tasting myself and showing off for Oz.
“Brat,” he says, leaning forward.
“Tease,” I counter.
He laughs, a smile lighting up his face. Then his eyes spark. “Enough talking. Take those dirty little fingers and fuck that greedy tight cunt of yours.”
My eyes roll back in my head, and I slide my fingers inside. My pussy is so hot it burns. I curl my fingers, vibrating them back and forth. My breathing picks up, tingles spreading through my lower body.
Oz’s breathing syncs with mine and I look over to him to see my night shorts wrapped around his dick as he uses them to jerk off. My eyes widen. Why is that so hot?
“Harder,” he growls.
I thrust faster, every muscle in my body tightening as I hover at the edge of a cliff.
Oz stands up and moves to the end of the bed, still stroking his dick. “Come for me, Mo Leannan.”
The Scottish tilt to his voice tips me off the cliff and I fall, pleasure sweeping through me. Oz chucks my shorts onto the bed as he climaxes, his cum hitting my stomach and pussy.
I hold my breath as aftershocks shudder through me then sink back onto the bed. I pant, blinking in a daze as Oz falls onto the bed beside me and draws me into his chest. His hand dips to my core and he spreads his release around, sinking it into my pussy and smearing it over my skin.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.
I muffle my moan by biting down on his other arm.
He chuckles.
Once my breathing evens out it occurs to me that the only bathroom is halfway down the hall.
I twist in Oz’s hold so I can look at him. “We didn’t think this through. How am I supposed to get to the shower looking like this?”
“Why do you need a shower?”
I raise my eyebrows and wave my hand at my sticky stomach. “I’m a mess.”
His brows peak, matching my stare. “And you can stay a mess.”
“Oz—”
“Shh, Freya, it’s time for sleep.” And with that he pulls my back to his chest and tucks his arm around my stomach, hooking my leg over his.
My mouth parts but then he nuzzles his nose into my neck and presses a kiss to my skin. I melt into his touch.
I guess I’m staying a mess.