6. Six Freya
Six: Freya
I rubbed my eyes as I awoke, my head pounding, my stomach bubbling with a strange combination of queasiness and dread. Sitting up, I gazed around the room, Brie's pale pink walls nowhere to be found. Instead, I was surrounded by a dingy navy cream colour, the accents pretty uninspiring.
This wasn't my room.
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned to myself. I knew whose room this was, the drama that had unfolded last night coming back to me and playing vividly in my mind like a movie scene. I shouldn't have allowed Maggie's words and the fact that my father wasn’t replying to get to me. However, I had given in and joined the party as a distraction when I should have been finishing my college work. I was going to need to keep my head down and focus this weekend.
Swinging my legs over the side of Kaleb's double bed, testing how my feet felt against the cold wood, I tested my balance. Apart from feeling a little unsteady, I was fine, and I headed towards the landing railing, peering over it.
A very fed-up-looking Brent was splayed out across the couch downstairs, his head hung over the back, eyes barely open. A toxic-looking energy drink was clutched in one of his hands, and after listening for a few seconds, I picked up on the soft snore emitting from him.
Someone was hungover.
After a shower, I padded downstairs hesitantly, gaining Brent's attention, his mouth curling upwards once he took in my state.
“You look like shit, girlie.” He chuckled, taking a final swig of his drink and setting it on the coffee table.
“Thanks. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” I mumbled sarcastically, looking around the room in astonishment.
There wasn't a hair out of place. It looked spotless.
Brent laughed. “Kaleb may be a guy, but he's not a slob.”
“That makes one of us.” Kaleb scowled, coming from the kitchen to glare at Brent, snatching his empty can up. He turned to me. “So, how are you feeling?”
I shook my head, raking my hand through my wet hair. “My head hurts, but other than that, I’m okay,” I replied, my mouth set in a firm line, gulping as I took in his attire. It had to be illegal for someone to look that good in just grey sweatpants.
“You fell asleep by the toilet last night, so I kept you in my room so you had easy access to a bathroom.”
“And you slept…?”
“I slept on the couch. No need to panic.” Kaleb’s mouth curved upward, my heart hammering against my ribs in sudden relief. He clearly enjoyed my reaction.
The thought of Kaleb and me in the same bed together pushed its way to the forefront of my mind, and I shivered as goosebumps arose across my arms, imagining his warm body so close to mine.
Was he a pyjama kind of guy? Or did he sleep in just his boxers? Perhaps he even—
“Don't worry, Kaleb's already dealt with Maggie.” Brent’s loud voice yanked me from my wildly unrealistic fantasy.
“What do you mean, he dealt with her?” I questioned.
Brent paused. “He went over to her house and—“
“Get off the couch,” Kaleb said huskily, kicking at his friend’s feet and nodding towards the front door. “We're late.”
This caused him to groan, but he shot me a cheesy grin, looking like a fantastic idea had just popped into his head. “Freya, do you want to join us?”
“No.” Kaleb jostled his keys between his fingers, his jaw taut. “Don’t be an idiot, Brent.”
“Kaleb, the girl got drugged by one of our friends. The least we could do is invite her to join us so she isn’t sitting here alone all day.”
“Maggie isn’t my friend. Most of those people last night weren't my friends. Use your brain, Brent.” Kaleb’s tone was harsh.
Frustration flashed behind Brent’s eyes, and he stepped closer to his friend. “Come on, Kaleb. What’s the harm in bringing a friend along? Think about it. It’ll look nothing but normal. Plus, Freya looks like she needs some fun.”
Brent put the emphasis on the normal.
I pinched my eyebrows together. What the hell did that mean?
Kaleb ran his tongue along the front of his teeth before he glared at Brent with intense eyes, cursing under his breath. His gaze flickered between us, and he shook his head in defeat. “Fine, but I don't want her getting in the way. We had enough drama last night.”
A grin broke out on Brent’s freckled face as he addressed me. “Come on. No point staying indoors all day.”
My interest got the better of me as I watched Kaleb stalk towards his large black Jeep and hop in. The engine roared, my body shuddering. There was something about him that felt so dangerous and mysterious, and although I knew it was supposed to drive me away, it didn’t. I wanted to dig a little deeper.
I also didn't like that he disliked me. If we were going to be living under the same roof, we needed to learn to get along. I wasn't sure when my father was going to be back, and I knew it could be another couple of weeks before he returned our texts and calls and sorted the debt out.
I followed Brent toward the car, sitting in the back, my eyes travelling down to Kaleb's waist. I spotted his hefty handgun—the one that I'd been searching for last night—and gulped at the thought that he could kill anyone he wanted to ?with the flick of his wrist.
“Where are we going?” I asked after a minute of silence, the thick air feeling tense and almost suffocating.
“To a shooting range," Kaleb responded, glancing at me through his rear-view mirror, a smirk playing on his lips. “We can turn around if that’s too much for you. I have no problem dropping you back home.”
A huff escaped my lips, and I shook my head at him before resting my forehead against the cold window. Concentrating on college work was unfathomable with a pounding headache anyway. I rubbed at my temples, the quick movements of the car making me feel slightly dizzy and nauseous, and when we finally reached our destination, I all but leapt out of the vehicle.
“Whatever you do, don’t mention anything about our jobs,” Kaleb warned me quietly. I opened my mouth to question him, but a loud voice cut me off.
“Kaleb, Brent! Who have we got here?”
We all turned to see a tall, middle-aged man with slicked-back hair stalking towards us. He grinned at the boys, gazing down at me with confusion, raising his brow.
“Will, this is Freya,” Brent said, and I smiled. “Freya, this is Will Sheffield. He owns this place.”
Will gazed at me through dark brown eyes—red and bloodshot. He clutched onto a cigarette with stubby fingers and took a puff as he grinned. “Nice to meet you. How long have you been shooting for?”
“Oh, I don't—”
“She’s a great shooter,” Kaleb interrupted, playing with his gun in his hands and stalking toward the entrance to the shooting range, beckoning us with a nod of his head.
I’d never picked up a gun in my life. Why lie?
The sound of gunfire immediately ricocheted off the metal walls and hit my eardrums piercingly, my headache becoming even more intense. There were only a few other small groups here, and Will took us over to a spot in the corner before leaving us to it, a target having been placed at the end of a long stretch.
Thin metal walls separated every group of shooters, and the sound of limbs coming into contact with tin travelled through the air as a few men kicked at them in frustration after missing their shots.
Kaleb immediately pulled his gun out, aiming it and shooting, the bullet flying through the air and hitting the target bang in the middle. He wasn't wearing eye or ear protection, and it made me realise how rundown and shady this place actually looked.
People were milling about casually, laughing and joking with each other as they strutted through the building with their loaded guns hanging from their waists—most of them heavily tattooed and eerie-looking. It didn’t look like anyone was without an alcoholic drink, either. Was drinking and shooting really a good combination?
Brent pulled his gun from his jeans and aimed, his bullet soaring through the air and hitting the target also—his a little too far to the right.
“How do you never miss?” Brent grumbled, shaking his head as Kaleb took another shot, the gun recoiling back slightly in his large hands.
“I practise when you piss me off,” he muttered casually, his lips threatening to curve upward.
Had Mr Grumpy just made a joke?
Brent held his gun out to me, causing my eyes to widen, and I shook my head, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I'd never held a gun before—let alone shot one.
Kaleb leaned back against the wall with folded arms, eyeing me up as I stared between the gun I was being offered and Brent's cheesy grin.
“She'll kill someone,” Kaleb stated, shaking his head. His throat bobbed up and down as he released a slight chuckle, his prominent Adam’s apple causing my throat to tighten.
“Not if we show her how to do it,” Brent argued, pressing the gun into my grip and encouraging me to step up to the shooting pass. I did so with sweaty palms, the gun feeling as if it was about to slide right out of my hand.
“No, no,” Kaleb groaned, moving closer to me and scowling down at my grip on the gun. “Your middle finger should go here.” He manoeuvred it upwards slightly before holding onto my arm to adjust my entire grasp, nodding at me once satisfied.
I gulped. I hadn’t expected him to touch me, and for some pathetic reason, it sent shivers down my spine. The scent of his cologne wafted up my nostrils, and I breathed it in greedily before I composed myself. This guy was hot, but he was also an ass. I needed to remind myself of that.
“Okay, now just aim and shoot,” Brent encouraged.
“You say that like it's easy.” My heart palpitated as I raised the gun just a little more, attempting to hold it steady. I took a deep breath, feeling a droplet of sweat dribble down the back of my neck as I pulled the trigger, the gun almost flying out of my hand as the bullet barrelled down the narrow stretch. It hit the wall above the target, bouncing off it and landing on the floor with a loud clink , slowly rolling to a stop.
What a pathetic attempt.
“Well,” Kaleb mumbled, taking a few slow steps towards me, placing his hand on the gun, lowering it, and taking it from me, “you didn't shoot a hole through your own head, so congratulations.”
“Nice job, Freya. You're a natural. I'll go and grab us some more bullets.” Brent headed towards the entrance, leaving me alone with Kaleb, his stormy eyes on me.
I cleared my throat awkwardly, kicking at the dusty ground. “What did Brent mean when he said you dealt with Maggie?”
He clicked his tongue, grinding his teeth together. “Will you refuse to drop it if I don’t answer?”
I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue, causing him to grumble.
“I went over to her house, and I told her that if she ever drugged anybody again, I’d make sure she regretted it.”
“What does that mean?”
Kaleb huffed. “It means what I just said, Freya.”
I pursed my lips. He clearly didn't want to discuss it, and I didn't want to frustrate him further. The fact that we were here together, partaking in a recreational activity, was a miracle. There was no point in pushing it.
“I don’t think drugs and I mix very well.” It was supposed to be a light-hearted joke, but I realised as soon as I'd said it just how unfunny it was. Kaleb and I had settled into an awkward silence, and I’d said the first thing that had popped into my head to break it.
He hummed in response as he played with his gun, his brows collapsing in on one another.
Feeling awkward, I pulled my phone from my pocket, checking for any messages from my dad.
I frowned as I stared at the screen.
Nothing—not even after I’d sent him a message asking why he’d answered my call and then hung up.
I’d really been blessed with a loving father, hadn’t I?
The tension was cut once Brent reappeared and handed Kaleb a fresh set of bullets. They continued to shoot, and I stood behind them with my back against the wall, scanning the room, taking in how boisterous everyone was. My brain throbbed from inside my skull.
I sighed. This wasn't my scene.
Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, I snatched it from the fabric with hope, but my face fell when Zach's name popped up.
Zach : Hey, Freya, did you want to do something? We could grab some food?
I hesitated, biting down harshly on my lip. I was starving and needed an excuse to leave this creepy shooting range.
Freya : Sure, I'll meet you at Lenny's diner in twenty minutes if that works?
Zach : Sounds good.
“Okay, I think I'm going to go,” I said, causing both men to turn to me, a slight smirk gracing Kaleb’s lips.
Asshole.
“It's not for everyone,” he replied. “See you at home.”
“Yep,” I muttered with hard eyes, waving a quick goodbye to Brent before I rushed out of the building, the smell of iron and alcohol filling my nostrils as I raced through the hallway. Will caught my attention as I reached the front door, though, another half-smoked cigarette in his mouth.
“Leaving already?” he asked, puffing out a cloud of smoke to the side.
“Yeah,” I responded. “I've got some things I need to do.”
“It isn't often Kaleb and Brent bring people here when they come back to town, but it was good to meet you, Freya...?”
“Um, Henderson,” I said, nodding once, my body stiff.
“Henderson?” Will repeated, taking another puff of his cigarette as he looked at me strangely, nodding to himself as he attempted to lower his questionable brows. “Well, I hope to see your face around here more often, Freya Henderson.”
“We'll see.” I smiled awkwardly and headed out of the complex and toward the road, gulping as Will stepped out of the building and studied me from afar. He narrowed his eyes as he watched me disappear around the corner, his intense stare making me shiver, uneasiness filling my bloodstream.