22. Freya
22
FREYA
I can’t stop tasting blood. The smell of it lingers on me. On my hands, seeping between my fingers. At the back of my throat, burning and bitter.
We’re in Jude’s parents’ house, dotted around the kitchen, but my mind is stuck in Lexi’s home, my hands pressing down on her neck as she bleeds out beneath me.
I blink and try to reorientate myself in the present. I’m sitting on a stool at the island.
Jude’s leaning against the fridge, his arms crossed. Oz is on his laptop next to me and Eli and River are standing at the other end of the island.
Jude is annoyed with me and the others have picked up on the vibe. I have some explaining to do but I can’t stop thinking about Lexi.
She’s still alive, holding on at the hospital. But her baby’s gone. She lost too much blood and now even if she does wake up, she’ll be waking to hear that she’s no longer pregnant. And it’s my fault. Because Maxwell is my father. Because we haven’t caught him yet. Because I think I might have been messaging with him for the past week and I didn’t say a word.
I’ve gone over and over the message I got that tipped us off earlier tonight. My gut tells me it was my father, that he’s been pretending to be Angelica, but if that’s the case, why would he tip us off before he had a chance to finish the job? Why not wait till he’d already killed Lexi?
Oz takes out his earpiece and shuts his laptop. He gives a subtle shake of the head. “LAPD has nothing. They’ve stopped every vehicle that’s left the area in the past four hours so he’s either holed up somewhere or he got out before the roadblocks were up.”
Eli drags a hand down his face and turns away from the island.
River tracks him, waiting till Eli’s taken a deep breath and steadied himself before turning back to the rest of us. “Let’s assume for now that he got out before. What are his next steps?”
“Freya,” Jude says, his tone low and full of warning. He leans against the fridge, his hands gripping his biceps and his teeth gritted.
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a pissed off Jude before, but I have no doubt that’s what this is.
I close my eyes and let out a tangled breath. “I have to tell you all something.”
River stills like a predator across the room, my words rooting him in place.
I pull my phone from my pocket, fiddling with it in my fingers before placing it on the glass top of the island.
I tell them about the messages, and I watch the man who let down so many defenses to trust me, get cut to shreds by my words.
“I don’t know for sure it’s him,” I rush to say. “I thought it was my sister, and I was going to tell you but I… I don’t know. If it is her and not my dad, then that means he’s still feeding her information somehow.”
River doesn’t say a word. The lines of his jaw harden, and his eyes go blank.
I want to reach out to him, to touch him and bring him back to me before he has the chance to build his walls back up but I’m terrified if I go to him, he’ll back away.
Eli’s the first to speak. He eyes River, then braces his hands against the island and faces me. “Why didn’t you tell us?” His voice is somber, and I know my father’s latest kills are weighing on him as much as they are me.
I dip my head, focusing on the sharp scratch of my nails as I press my cuticles down to the quick. “I knew if you found out Angelica had a phone you’d take it away. I disappeared on her once before.” I give a weak shrug. “I guess I couldn’t bring myself to cut her off like that again. Plus, the messages were about my mother. I wanted to know what Allie remembered that I didn’t.”
Finally, River speaks. “How long?”
I stop torturing my nails and look up at him. He’s stepped back from the island and his arms hang down by his side, his hands clenched into fists. “River?—”
“How long?”
I jolt at how empty his voice is.
“How long have you been lying to us?” he says, deathly quiet now.
My heart races and my chest cracks open. “I got the first message when we landed in Danville.”
River’s eyes close. When he opens them, they’re dead inside.
I go cold all over.
A muscle in his jaw ticks then his dark gaze pierces into me. “I’m done,” he says.
“What?” My stomach drops.
“River…” Oz’s hand settles on my thigh but I’ve gone numb.
“No.” River cuts his hand through the air. “You promised, Freya. No more lies. No more secrets. But clearly your word means nothing.”
Jude steps away from the fridge. “Dude, that’s enough.”
River just shakes his head. Then he turns on his heel and leaves the room.
I watch him walk away, silence hanging in the kitchen. I wait for him to come back, to tell me off, to punish me. I could take that. I deserve that.
But he doesn’t come back.
I swallow, my throat aching.
“Freya,” Oz says my name softly, but I can’t do this. I can’t be here. I slip off the stool and flee the kitchen.
Pain cuts through me, igniting each and every one of my scars. I barely feel the tiles under my feet as I move. My vision blurs but I keep going, needing to get as far away from the guys as possible. I’ve never given anyone the power to hurt me like this before and I’m an idiot for thinking this could work. For thinking I could live any semblance of a normal life. For believing that anyone could love me.
And I’ve only myself to blame. I knew River didn’t trust easy, I promised him no more secrets and then I broke him.
I stumble into the hall and up the stairs, hiding myself away in Jude’s room.
The door opens the second I close it and for a fleeting moment I think it’s River coming after me but then Oz’s pity filled gaze finds me and I fall apart.
He catches me under my arms as a sob tears from my throat.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his beard rough against my cheek as he holds me close. “I’ve got you.”
The cries coming from my body don’t even sound human. I am ripping myself to pieces because there’s no coming back from this. River won’t trust me again. He won’t be able to risk it.
“Shh, shh Mo Leannan.” Oz picks me up, one arm behind my back and the other under my legs, and carries me to the bed. He climbs on, cradling me to his chest and hushing me as I flood his shirt with my tears.
The door opens again but I don’t bother looking up. It won’t be River.
The bed dips and the cuff of Jude’s hoodie dries my damp cheek. “I’m sorry, Angel. I’m so sorry.” He presses his lips to the top of my head. “I’m going to fix this, I promise.”
I don’t say anything, I can’t talk right now but even if I could, I wouldn’t know what to say.
I shouldn’t have lied. I should have told them about the messages straight away. But I’m not used to having people on my side and I fucked up.
Jude can do what he wants. There’s no fixing this.