14. Eli
ELI
I stroll into the kitchen and hop up onto the island. “Smells good, Ozzie.”
I snag a pancake out of the basket and tear off a bite. Oz makes them the Scotch way, so they’re sweet enough to eat on their own.
He looks over his shoulder at me from where he stands by the stove and points to the drawer with the spatula. “Get a plate, you cretin.”
My lip quirks at the insult but I humor him and grab a plate from the cupboard.
“How is she?” Oz asks, his tone sober and his back tense.
I lean against the island. “Pretty pissed, but mostly at River.”
He flips the pancakes one at a time. “What do you think the chances are of convincing River not to lock her back up later?”
I wait till he turns to look at me. “Better your head than mine, Ozzie.”
He drops the spatula on the counter and pushes his glasses up, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is wrong.”
Maybe. But I also get where River’s coming from. Is he a possessive, controlling bastard sometimes? Yes. Is he doing it to try and keep Freya safe? Also, yes.
I look at Oz, worry digging lines into his forehead. “Can you honestly say she won’t go off and try to stop Zach by herself if she gets the chance?”
Oz drags his palm over his beard. It’s grown longer and scruffier over the past two months. “No, I can’t,” he admits. “But that doesn’t make it right.”
I don’t have anything to say to that because he’s not wrong. Instead, I just nod at the pan. “Your pancakes are burning.”
“Fudge.” He swiftly grabs them from the stove and turns off the heat.
I use my fork to snag them out of the pan and add them to my plate.
Oz takes me in, his lips quirking at my growing pile of pancakes. “You’re different now, you know. We’re all falling apart but you seem… better.”
I smile. “Freya called me a puppy dog.”
Oz snorts. “When did you become so happy?”
I shrug, my smile dropping. “Maybe when I shot dead the fucker who killed my mother.”
Oz goes quiet.
I stab my fork into a pancake. “It doesn’t make everything better but, I don’t know, it feels like I did right by her I guess.”
Oz crosses his arms and leans against the stove. “You know that doesn’t mean you have to be fine all the time now, right?”
“I know.”
He squints at me from behind his glasses, doing that analyzing shit. “When Freya came along at least you started showing your pain. I don’t want you to feel like you need to go back to hiding behind jokes.”
I put my plate down on the island behind me. “I’m not hiding, Ozzie. I’m just happy.”
His eyes go to the ceiling, and I know he’s thinking about Freya. “Even though everything’s seriously messed up right now?”
“She’s here, Oz. She’s back with us. That’s all that matters. We’ll figure all the other shit out.”
He sighs. “I hope you’re right.”
I bop him on the nose with my finger. “I’m always right. That’s what makes me amazing.”
Jude saunters into the room and takes one of the stools at the other end of the island. “Statistically you’re right approximately seventy-eight percent of the time.”
I scowl at him. “Good morning to you too, you little shit.”
He looks between me and Oz. “That’s one of those insults that’s supposed to be endearing right?”
I let my head fall forward. “Yeah, Jude. We’re good.” I need to be more careful what I say around Jude at the moment. He’s a little stuck in his head lately, like he’s in the room but he’s not actually present. I was hoping once we got Freya back he’d come out of his funk but no such luck so far.
He physically flinches when she comes downstairs and takes the stool next to him. Either Freya’s too out of it to notice or she just pretends not to.
Oz slides a plate of pancakes in front of her and she offers him a weak smile. “Do you want cream or syrup?” he asks.
“Syrup, please.”
Oz points at me. “See Cretin, this is how civilized people eat.”
I abandon my fork, pick up a pancake, and tear off a bite.
Freya’s jaw drops. “Eli, I love you but eating pancakes dry is just plain wrong.”
Oz smiles but Jude goes tense. His stool scrapes against the wood floor as he stands up and stalks from the room, his hands fisted at his sides.
Freya stares after him, her face pale. “What did I do?”
Oz comes up beside her and tucks a fiery curl behind her ear. “Jude’s just struggling at the moment, Mo Leannan.”
“He hates me,” she says, her voice cracking.
Oz twists her stool so she’s between his legs and tilts her chin up. “He doesn’t hate you.”
Freya’s breath hitches. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. Or any of you. Zach had Layla and I just wanted him to go away. To stop. I can’t lose you. I can’t .” She tugs at her new bracelet and Oz’s fingers close around it, stopping her from hurting herself.
“You’re not going to lose us.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “The tracker bracelet and the locked doors should kind of clue you in to the fact that this is a forever sort of thing.”
Freya laughs through her tears and rests her head against Oz’s chest. “You’re such a fucking idiot, Eli.”
“Made you smile though.” I’ll be an idiot every day of the week if that’s what it takes to bring her back from the edge.
River chooses that moment to join us in the kitchen and Freya brushes away her tears. She straightens up, her back going rigid as she suddenly becomes very interested in her pancakes.
River draws to a stop by the island. His eyes trace over her, taking in the hard, detached look on her face. “What’s wrong?”
Freya doesn’t answer him. Then she takes it further and positions herself so her back is to River before talking to Oz instead. “These pancakes are incredible.”
Oz blushes, his lips twisting into a smile.
“Freya.” River’s voice drops low in warning.
Freya switches her gaze to me. “So, what are we doing today? Or am I supposed to go back upstairs after breakfast like a good little captive?”
My brows raise and I try to silently communicate that she might want to shut up but apparently Freya’s on a roll.
“You know, I’ve spent my fair share of time around criminals, but I’d have thought the FBI of all people would be at least a little hesitant to break the law.”
River reaches for Oz’s iPad sitting on the island and pulls up the contract Freya signed when she joined our team. He scrolls down and places it in front of her. “I’m not breaking any laws. You sure you want to keep up the silent treatment?”
Freya scans the document.
I reach over and take her plate in case she feels like throwing something after she’s read it.
Keeping her here, in our house, may be unconventional but Freya’s role as a profiler was contingent on her cooperating with the FBI.
If she went AWOL, the agreement was void and the Chief of the SCU had the authority to revoke her status.
As acting chief, River is within his rights to make Freya an asset again and place her under our protection. It’s a gray area but, technically, he’s not breaking any laws.
Freya’s cheeks hollow as she reads. Her nostrils flare a little with each breath, but she still refuses to look at River. When she’s finished, she shoves the iPad away and storms out of the room.
I nod. “That went about as well as expected.”
“Shut up, Eli.”
“How long do you think she’ll ignore you?”
River eyes the hallway Freya disappeared into. “Probably until I punish her for it.”
Oz takes off his glasses and rubs his face. “Dude, I think she might stab you if you try to put your hands on her right now.”
“I won’t touch her. I can’t.” He doesn’t explain that further, just shakes his head and walks off.
I plate up a couple more pancakes to take to Freya and drown them in syrup. As far as I’m concerned, they’re both being idiots. We’ve done the hard part, we found her. Now we just have to remind Freya that she loves us.
Oh, and catch her fucking psychopath of a brother before he follows through on his threat and kills us all. That too.