Chapter 27
Freya is tucked against me, her hand resting over my chest, the weight of it welcome over my heart.
Her hair is a soft tangle against my collarbone, and for a moment I just lie there, letting myself take in the quiet of her in my arms. It’s the kind of stillness I’ve never had much practice with but one that I’m ready for.
Bringing her to my bed was the final claim.
She’s mine now.
Blood rushes to my limbs just thinking about how it felt to be inside her and to have her soft skin in my palms. My hand slips across her stomach, brushing the curve of it. Our daughter is a miracle right beneath my palm, and emotion pulls tight across my ribs.
I can see the kind of life we’re going to have: Freya coming into the workshop with the baby on her hip.
Me dropping a cinnamon roll and decent coffee at the station just to make her smile because I’m the one who makes sure she’s fed.
Evenings where we finally get the baby down and hit the sofa, pretending to watch Netflix until we give up and drag each other under because it’s the only quiet we’ve had all day.
My family.
The words settle into something that feels damn near primal.
For a minute, I believe in it without resistance.
But then, something old stirs underneath.
A memory from a different time, a different house, a different version of myself who thought wanting and putting effort into a future meant keeping it.
I remember deciding I would make things work no matter what.
I remember believing that loving someone with everything I had was enough to keep them from walking away.
It wasn’t.
But it’s different this time. Freya isn’t the kind of woman who pretends everything is all right when she knows you’re walking across a minefield. Sure, she needs time to think, but she’ll speak her mind. Meeting Faith showed me it’s either nature or nurture… Both are in my favor.
Before I dwell on it anymore, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. A sharp vibration breaks across the quiet, then another. I shift slowly so I don’t wake her and reach for it, angling the screen away from her sleeping face.
Ava
Hey I’m only texting you first because I didn’t want to wake Freya. I know her family is there and she needs rest but when do you think she can come by? I’m desperate to show her what we found.
A second notification lights up immediately.
Enzo
Why didn’t you warn me I was marrying the most impatient woman in the world?
My thoughts instantly sharpen. I hope they found something that will shut this case by dusk, and I can turn my attention to what really matters.
Us.
Just then Freya stirs. She doesn’t open her eyes, but she senses I’m awake. “What time is it?”
“Five.”
She groans lightly. “I’m so tired…”
She sounds like she’s coming out of anesthesia.
My woman needs more rest. She’s growing our child, for Christ’s sake.
I kiss her forehead. “I’ll take your mom and grandma to the airport. You go back to sleep.”
She wraps her leg and arm around me and squeezes me hard. “You’re amazing.”
My heart swells to almost painful proportions, but the warmth is interrupted when a door in the hallway clicks open. Faith murmurs something inaudible, followed by the shuffle of Grandma’s slippers.
Freya’s family is awake.
Right outside.
I sit up immediately, reaching for my jeans at the foot of the bed. “They’re up. I should help with their bags. I don’t want them carrying anything down the stairs.”
Freya blinks herself into consciousness, pushing up onto her elbows, a frizzy curl falling into her face. “Wait, if you’re driving them, I need to say goodbye.”
Her words land between us, and then we both freeze with the sudden weight of what walking out that door means.
Her gaze flicks to the closed bedroom door. Mine follows.
Because if she walks out of this room right now…she’s walking out of my room. My bed.
It stings, but I instinctively feel Freya will want to talk to her mom about us being together on her own terms.
It’s easier for me to say “Fuck it.” I’ve had very little to lose for a long time—Ava being the lone exception. Freya’s world is more layered than mine, I know better than to expect her to move through it the same way I do.
She doesn’t need to make announcements like this at five in the morning. “Wait a minute,” I suggest. “Let them head downstairs first.”
Her gaze warms in a way that hits me hard. “No use hiding the truth.”
And just like that, she hands me something priceless.
She’s not hiding. She’s not pretending. She’s about to walk out of this room knowing it ties her to me. Fuck, this woman continues doing things to me.
But as she pushes herself up from the bed with a groan, I see more than just the woman I yearn for. She’s a mother with a baby girl in her belly and a cop with a case on her shoulders.
I think about Ingram possibly lying about Andy Tarmigan.
If he did, then Freya’s been sent on a wild goose chase—maybe to keep her away from the truth, maybe to frame Andy outright.
But what about the red-paint transfer? If it wasn’t Andy that hit Zoe’s car, there’s someone else out there who did. Someone we don’t even see yet.
I hope whatever Ava found makes sense of it all because Freya is way too close to the shadows.
Yesterday, Freya was off, and we both got to pretend this case isn’t sharpening its teeth.
But today, my woman has to sit at a desk next to a cop I don’t trust. If Ingram fucked up not one but two cases, or worse, he’s covering them up, he has a lot to lose. And desperate people drag others down with them.
Freya slides her feet into my slippers, so tired, it’s absent-minded.
I need to end this now.
Last night gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.
Now I just have to make sure nothing takes it from us.