Secrets of Mine (Of Mine #2)

13. Freya

13

FREYA

O z is an incredible cook. Seriously, he could quit the FBI and open a restaurant he is that good. I watch him across the table, laughing at something his dad says.

A man who can cook is hot, not that Oz needs any help in that department. He trimmed his beard earlier and put on a crisp white shirt with the top few buttons undone. All of the guys have dressed up with River in a full-on suit, of course. Jude’s got on a checked shirt with the cuffs undone because that’s about as formal as he gets. And Eli’s gone for the opposite look to Oz, his black shirt matching the slight scowl that seems to be etched onto his face whenever I’m in a room with him these days.

I force my eyes away from Eli, not allowing myself to give him any more attention. I don’t know what’s going on with him and I don’t want my anxiety to ruin the dinner we’re having. Because this dinner is incredible.

We’re all sitting round the large, farmhouse-style kitchen table. Layla lent me one of her dresses and the meal somehow manages to feel both formal and relaxed at the same time. Like a traditional family dinner.

I never once sat down at a table with my sister and my dad. Dad’s whole plan to raise us as one person so we’d be the perfect alibi for each other meant we weren’t allowed to spend time together like that.

Next to me, Jude settles his hand on top of my leg under the table. He turns so his lips are near my ear. “Hey, come back from wherever you just went, Angel.”

I find his hand with mine and give it a squeeze. “I’m back.”

“Good.” He takes a sip of his beer and continues talking to me quietly as everyone chats and laughs across the table. “So, are you going to tell me why Oz keeps looking at his phone and blushing like a schoolgirl?”

I try to hold back my smile. As delicious as the casserole is, I’d been having a hard time eating the cheesy garlic bread Oz made without thinking about how he used those very talented hands to drizzle olive oil over my legs. I’d felt sexy earlier in the deep purple dress Layla lent me, and I knew Oz would like some… racy photos.

I planned on showing them to him later but when the freaking garlic bread made me all hot and bothered, I decided to get a little payback.

I pick up my phone and pull up a photo on the screen. I’m lying on Oz’s bed, my legs spread and my panties nowhere to be seen. I hold it under the table and nudge Jude’s foot.

He looks down and splutters the beer he’d been drinking. He puts the glass down and coughs. “Sorry,” he wheezes to the table. “Went down the wrong way.”

I smirk and press the little paper airplane symbol, sending the photo to Oz. His phone buzzes face down on the table.

He meets my eyes from a few seats over and shakes his head, slow and scolding. I watch him try to ignore it as he chats with his mom but the second she turns to talk to his dad, Oz slips his phone under the table.

A moment later my own phone buzzes.

Oz: Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you later…

Freya: Don’t threaten me with a good time.

Oz: Such a needy little slut. Is your pussy weeping for me right now?

Well fuck. I squeeze my thighs together and quickly put my phone face down on the table.

Jude chuckles and murmurs under his breath. “You’re playing with fire, Angel. No one does dirty talk like Oz.”

My cheeks heat and I take a sip of my champagne. I’d have been fine with beer, but Lucille insisted we were celebrating. Celebrating what exactly, I’m not sure, but I find out after the main course is cleared and Oz finishes serving everyone the crème brulés he made for dessert.

Lucille tops up everyone’s glass and lifts hers in the air. “To Freya. We’re so glad Oz has found you.”

I blush furiously, though not as much as I blush a moment later when Lucille gets a glint in her eye and asks, “So tell me, which one of my boys caught your attention first?”

I pound my chest, choking on the bubbly champagne. “I’m sorry, what?” We hadn’t divulged the nature of our relationship to Oz’s parents but I’d kind of just assumed they thought only Oz and I were dating.

The guys exchange glances and Eli stiffens.

“Mom it’s not—” Oz starts but she waves him off.

“Oh come on, I own a bookstore. I’ve read why choose books, it’s one of the fastest growing genres, you know. Anyway, it’s pretty obvious you’re all together, which it should be, you don’t need to hide your relationship. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Layla buries her face in her hands. “Oh my god, this is mortifying.”

Oz fiddles with his spoon. “Um, okay.” He eyes his parents. “You’re both okay with this?”

Doug just smiles. “We’re always okay with whatever makes you happy, son. And Freya clearly makes all of you very happy.”

Lucille claps her hands together and grins at me. “So, which one was it?”

I blink at her, pretty much in total agreement with Layla.

Jude, always my protector, comes to my rescue.

He hooks his arm over the back of my chair and leans forward to pick a sugar cube out of the bowl in the middle of the table. He pops it in his mouth and beams. “That would be me, Mrs. Reynolds. My charms were fairly irresistible.”

I don’t know whether it’s the suave look on Jude’s face, the pure awkwardness on River’s, or just a desperately needed release of tension, but I snort and burst out laughing. And then we’re all laughing, wiping tears from our eyes.

Lucille winks at me and I give her a small smile.

The rest of the dinner passes uneventfully. We spend another hour or so chatting and laughing around the table once we’ve finished eating and Lucille keeps topping up our glasses. Once I’m nicely relaxed from the buzz of the champagne again, Oz comes up behind me and curls his hand around the back of my neck.

“You still want to do this?” he asks.

I tilt my head back to look up at him and nod.

He goes into the living room to set up and I take the opportunity to check my phone. I’d been hoping I would have received a response from my sister by now but no such luck.

I swallow around a lump in my throat. I hadn’t really thought this through. My plan was to not actually try and access my memories but just tell the guys whatever details about my mother my sister shared. Except she hasn’t replied, and it’s starting to look like I’m actually going to have to do this.

I place my phone back on the table and Jude slips his hand into mine.

“It will be okay,” he says.

I latch on to his hand, gripping it like he can stop me from getting lost in my thoughts, in my memories.

I’m terrified about what I might discover doing this interview but part of me is a little relieved I haven’t heard back from the unknown number. It doesn’t feel right lying to the guys again. I promised I wouldn’t do that.

We relocate to the living room. Oz has moved the coffee table to the side and set up a nest of cushions in the middle of the room.

Eli, Jude, and River take the sofas while Oz and I take the cushion nest. We sit cross legged, our knees touching. I’m sure this isn’t how he normally does these interviews but I’m grateful for the contact. It reminds me I’m not doing this alone.

I close my eyes.

As soon as we begin, I realize my original plan would have never worked anyway. It’s impossible to ignore Oz’s questions. He softens his voice, the deep hypnotic tone guiding me back in time.

“I want you to think about your nightmare. Don’t worry if you can’t remember it all just focus on one thing you can remember.” His thumb draws circles on the back of my hand. “Have you got something?”

“Her hair,” I say, picturing the woman from my nightmare.

“Good. That’s good. Tell me about it.”

“It’s blonde. Wavy. It falls just past her shoulders. It’s the shiniest part of her, the rest of her looks kind of… dulled.” My eyes sting and my grip on Oz’s hand tightens.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re doing well. Just keep focusing on her hair. Can you tell me where you are?”

“I um—” My head turns at an angle as I try to remember more of the dream.

“Don’t push it. Just look down, what do you see?”

I take my eyes off the blonde hair and dip my head. I see my feet. “I’m wearing socks. They’re fluffy and pink with white dots.”

“Good. What else can you see?”

“A table, chairs. She’s in the kitchen. My dad’s there too.” My heart strangles itself. “Oz, I don’t want to be here.”

“Okay, just focus on my voice for a moment. Did you have fun sending me those photos over dinner?”

I laugh a little and some of the fear leaks away. “Yes.”

Oz hums. “Little temptress. How are you doing?”

“Okay.”

“We can stop this anytime you want, Freya.”

“I can go back. I can carry on.” I picture the socks I was wearing again.

“What can you smell?”

“Toast. It’s a little burnt.” I screw up my face. “I think we’d just eaten dinner. There was a knock on the door, and he’d sent me to my room.”

“Is that where you are now?”

“No.” The floor is hard beneath my feet. My room had carpet. “I snuck back out to be with Allie but then I heard voices. I’m standing in the hall, in the doorway to the kitchen.”

“That’s great. What else can you hear?”

“They’re arguing. She wants to take us with her.” A sob chokes out of me. She wanted us. She didn’t leave us, not by choice.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Do you want to come out?”

I do but I don’t tell Oz that. Unease crawls up my back and my breathing picks up. I can’t go yet. I need to remember.

The scene plays out before me. My mother sees me, and I hide behind the wall. Slowly, I edge back to the doorway.

“Freya, what’s happening?”

“She’s looking at me. She knows I’m listening.”

“Has your dad seen you?”

“No. Not yet.” I squeeze my eyes shut harder. “There’s something else. Footsteps, I can hear footsteps.”

“Where are they coming from?”

I listen hard. “Behind me.” The footsteps are light, almost non-existent. “Allie?” She was in the basement. My heart beats faster. Sweat pricks at my brow. I don’t want to be here anymore.

“Come back to me, Mo Leannan. It’s just a memory.”

My dad’s harsh eyes lock onto me.

“He’s coming,” I say. “He’s coming for me.” The footsteps get closer, louder. The memory drags me under, terror worse than anything I remember claws at me.

“Freya, stop. Stop it. Open your eyes.” Oz’s voice gets firmer. He tugs on my hands but in the end it’s the ring of a phone that snaps me out of it.

I open my eyes and suck in a deep breath.

River takes out his phone and checks the screen. “It’s Chief Syed’s office. 911.” He swipes to accept the call. It must be a video call because he holds the phone out in front of him. “Zach, where’s Farrah?”

“She’s dealing with another case at the moment. We got called back early from the conference.”

The lingering effects from the memory I just relived have me cringing away from Zach’s voice.

Oz wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him.

“River, Maxwell’s killed again,” Zach says.

My emotions are already running havoc and tears spill from my eyes. When will it end?

“Where’s the victim?” River asks.

“Los Angeles, Beverly Hills. I’ve got L.A. police on the other line.”

River’s face hardens and he locks eyes with Jude. “Tell them we’ll be there by morning.”

“Will do. Chief Syed said to tell you she may be detained by this case for a while. She’s asked for written reports on your progress so she can keep up to date, and a plan of action.”

“Understood.” River ends the call.

I’m coming back to myself now and I notice Jude on the couch, rolling his stones between his fingers. “Jude?”

He looks over at me.

“You alright?”

His cheek twitches. “My parents live in Beverly Hills.”