10. Freya
FREYA
I t takes me a while to put myself back together. Jude wanted to come with me to my room, but I said I needed space. It was the wrong thing to say. His face fell, his usually bubbly aura muted and dark. I add it to the long list of my mistakes.
My clothes are dirty and ripped from the chase with River and I strip them off before getting into the shower. This whole place is essentially carved out of the mountain and the water runs like a waterfall from a gap in the stone wall.
I turn the heat up and let the water wash away the dried blood and dirt.
I’m sore between my legs. I haven’t been used like that in weeks and maybe I should be mad at River for taking me so brutally, but I wanted it and right now the pain is the only thing keeping me grounded. It feels like the least I deserve.
I was a fool to think Zach would just disappear. That me leaving the men I love would be enough for him. He’s a sadist. A killer. And killers don’t just stop. That’s like profiling 101.
Maybe Alistair is right. Maybe I should have stayed and trusted the guys to find a way to catch Zach before he could hurt us. Maybe then a little girl wouldn’t be dead.
I let my head hang forward, water running down my face and bouncing off the gray stone floor.
I have to go back. I know that now. I might still be scared Zach will come after the guys but there is no world in which I won’t do everything I possibly can to save the girl he’s taken.
By the time I’ve showered I’ve managed to bury most of the dread and guilt deep in a metaphorical grave. I dig my jeans and leather jacket out of the closet and pull them on like they’re armor. I’m tying up my boot laces when there’s a knock on the door and Rebekah slips inside.
She hesitates, pressing her hands behind her back as she leans against the wall. Her eyes land on the half-packed bag on my bed. “So, you’re leaving?”
I finish tightening my laces and straighten up. “I have to.”
She nods, her braids rustling against her shoulders. “Yeah, I know. I think it’s good.”
I lift a brow. “Yeah?”
She presses her lips tighter and nods again. “You’re not happy here, without them.” She shifts her gaze, studying the corner of the room.
I don’t know exactly what Rebekah went through in the cult, but I know that whatever training she was subjected to has left its mark.
She’s learned to protect herself by shutting off emotions, by not showing fear.
Anyone else might see the cold, detached look on her face and assume she doesn’t care, but I’m well acquainted with masks.
“You know that’s not because of you, right? Or Carmen or Samuel.”
Her nostrils flare and her eyes flick to me before looking away again.
I twist my new bracelet around my wrist. “Carmen’s the closest thing I have to family. And you and Sam, you fit into that too now.”
Rebekah’s throat bobs. She shrugs. “Yeah, whatever.” The corner of her lip tilts up in a hint of a smile. “Just don’t let them boss you around too much.”
I smile back. “Noted.”
I finish stuffing my clothes into my bag, do the zipper up, and hike it over my shoulder. “You’ll tell Sam he can call me anytime?”
Rebekah pushes away from the wall. “Sure.”
“You could call too, if you wanted,” I say as I open the door, and we step out into the hall.
Rebekah’s smile grows a little bigger. “Noted.”
We walk down the hall together until Rebekah peels off to go and bug AJ, leaving me to return to the TV room by myself.
I stop in the open doorway and five sets of eyes land on me. I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder and stare back. My gaze flicks over Carmen, then, for the first time since the guys arrived, I allow myself the time to properly take them in.
River still hasn’t sat down. He’s standing between the couch and the TV, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his arms crossed over his chest. The black strands of hair that fell loose in our chase are raked back now, the style as neat and imposing as ever and yet something’s different about him.
The brutality from earlier still simmers beneath his eyes, like the sharp control he always has is shot.
Unease tiptoes down my spine and I shift my gaze away.
Instinct has me turning to Jude where he’s sitting with his legs up on the couch, but instead of finding my sweet, caring Jude I’m met with a dead stare.
It’s not angry or mean like Eli’s used to be, it’s just vacant and my heart sinks down to my feet.
I dip my chin and stare at the natural striations in the floor. Dealing with my own emotions from running was hard enough, I was never supposed to have to face the guys. To see first-hand the damage I caused.
Part of me wants to walk out into the mountains, disappear into the snow and never come back but the rest of me yearns to be close to the guys again.
It’s like a magnetic force is pulling me towards them, but a shit ton of unspoken words and emotions form a solid wall between us that I’m about to go crashing into.
I want to tear the distance I’ve created to shreds and bury myself in their arms but I’m not so naive to think that they’ll welcome me back.
So, I’m just going to have to deal with this new version of Jude, with River’s dark anger.
I’m yet to get a read on Oz. He’s sitting on the couch opposite the door, watching me from behind his glasses. He doesn’t seem angry or upset, just maybe… contemplative. I wait for him to say something but in the end, it’s Eli, of all people, who makes the first crack in the wall.
He pushes up from the couch near me, slides my bag off my shoulder, and holds out a hand. “Come on.”
I look from his hand to his face. The soft smile on his lips shoots straight to my heart and mischief sparks in his blue eyes. I slip my hand into his and cling to this softer Eli.
He draws me down next to him as he sits on the couch again, and I take a deep breath before facing the others. “So, what are we dealing with?”
Oz opens up his satchel and pulls out a case file.
He spreads the papers out over the footstool and all of us move so we’re gathered around it. Even River finally sits down, taking a spot opposite me.
“The first girl was reported missing two weeks after you left,” River states. “Her name was Millie Morand.”
Oz passes me a summary sheet and together they fill me in on the details of how Millie was taken.
At some point, Carmen, who’s been watching us from the edges of the room, catches my eye. She looks me over, a question written on her face.
I give her a small nod to say I’m okay.
I guess I must look a bit more human now than I have for the past two months because she pushes away from the wall and leaves us to it.
I shift my attention back to the guys and go to turn the page but Oz splays his hand across the paper, stopping me.
“There’s a photo of Millie on the next page,” he says.
I glance up at him. “Okay…”
The guys shift around, and Jude keeps his gaze set on the footstool when he speaks. “She looks like you, Freya. Like you did when you were younger.”
“Oh.” That shouldn’t surprise me. Not really, I know Zach’s doing this to torture me.
Oz takes his hand back and I turn the page.
I’d braced myself for ginger hair and pale skin but despite the guys’ warning I’m not prepared for just how much Millie looks like me.
She’s smiling in the photo, her curls the exact same shade of copper as mine.
Freckles dot her young face, the soft edges of her cheeks just starting to grow sharper.
It’s like looking at a young Allie, and it hits me then that I’m the reason Millie’s dead.
That Zach picked her purely because she looked like me. To taunt me.
My throat grows thick. “Was she um… did he touch her?”
“Yes,” River answers.
I close my eyes and push the file away. Waves of revulsion churn in my stomach and I stand up, pacing over to the drinks bar.
I go to pour myself some water but my hands are shaking too much.
I put the jug down and link my hands behind my head.
I stare up at the stone wall, trying to breathe past the nausea.
It doesn’t work though. The wall disappears and all I can see is Millie’s lifeless body, Zach’s hands on her stomach.
His touch on my skin, like slick oil seeping into my flesh.
I turn just in time to reach the trash can before I throw up.
Steady hands gather my hair and hold it back from my face as I heave again, all the raw brownie mix I’d eaten with Sam earlier coming back up.
“I’ve got you,” Eli says, rubbing circles between my shoulder blades.
Acid burns my throat. I spit into the trash can and stand up, wiping my mouth on the sleeve of my jacket.
I avoid looking at Eli and sit back down on the couch. “What else?” I say, reaching for the file on Millie.
No one says anything. I look up to find Jude, River, and Oz watching me, wariness etched onto their faces.
“Freya,” Oz starts.
“I’m fine,” I say, cutting him off. “What. Else?”
Oz glances at River who dips his chin. Oz sighs but hands me another file. “Harley Lockry was taken two days ago. She went missing in a shopping mall arcade in Virginia. She’s ten years old.”
I open the file, glancing over the information they’ve already gathered.
Harley looks a lot like Millie. A lot like me. The photo shows her dressed in her soccer kit, a ball tucked under her arm. She’s got fire in her eyes, and I try to find hope in that. She’s a fighter and if the guys are right, then she’s still alive.
We just need to find her before it’s too late.
“And we’re sure it’s Zach?” I ask.
“We’re sure,” River answers. “Aside from the obvious physical similarities, it appears Zach wants to be known. He left a calling card at each abduction site.”
“Son of a bitch gave himself a name, The Little Star Catcher. The press are lapping it up.” Eli’s face is grim as he settles down on the couch next to me and hands me a glass of water. I take a sip, the taste of vomit still thick and furry in my mouth.
“He also left you a note.” Jude picks up a plastic baggie from among the papers on the table and hands it to me. Inside is a piece of paper with just one sentence written in ink.
Come and find me, Little Star.
I drop the bag on the table and avert my eyes.
Three months ago the words Little Star meant nothing to me. But that was before the nightmares, before my half-brother came back into my life and brought forgotten memories back with him.
Little Star was his pet name for me. It’s what he called me when he did to me the same unspeakable things he did to Millie.
I thought hunting my father was hard. But this?
This might just break me. Not that that will stop me.
Nothing will. I’m too late to help Millie, but I’d come back from the dead to save Harley if that’s what it took.
The question is whether I do it with or without the guys.
Zach only agreed to leave the people I love alone if I stayed away from them.
Which means this note is a trap. He wants to lure me back, so he doesn’t have to keep his promise.
I close the file I’m looking at and face them. “If I come back with you?—”
“When,” River cuts me off. Sharp. Lethal. His arm is slung casually over the arm of the couch but it’s a facade. Nothing about him is relaxed. “ When you come back with us you will do exactly as you’re told. You no longer get a choice in the matter.”
My shoulders stiffen and I hold his stare.
The silver band around my wrist is just another reminder that any trust I’d gained with River is gone.
I’m not dealing with the man who told me he loved me.
I’m not even sure I’m dealing with the man I first met.
This River is harsher, deadlier, and entirely too unpredictable.
I’ve already got the bruises to prove it.
I tilt my chin up under his unblinking gaze, still not willing to back down. “The second Zach finds out I’m back our deal is dead. He’ll come for you.”
A dangerous smile inches across River’s face. “I’d like to see him try.”
“Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t,” I snap.
“Freya.” Eli’s hand settles on my thigh but I stand up, brushing him off.
“No,” I say, looking at each of them in turn. “I will not put you in danger.”
Jude refuses to meet my gaze, staying focused on the coffee table. His curls sway as he shakes his head. “This isn’t like with Layla, Freya. We’re trained federal agents. You know that.”
My shoulders drop. This is what Alistair’s been trying to tell me, that I ran when I should have stayed and fought. I track my eyes over the soft brown curls blocking Jude’s face, wishing he’d look at me.
Eli reaches up and twists his fingers through mine, tugging my attention back to him. “Killers like Zach, they get off on messing with your head. If we’re going to catch him, we can’t play by his rules.”
I meet Eli’s gaze. There’s a softness there I haven’t seen since before he knew who I was, and the grief that always hides behind his eyes seems lighter now. I don’t know whether it’s this new side to Eli or whether I’m just done fighting, but the rest of my resistance falls away.
My throat hurts from being sick, my nerves are shot, and despite everything, the hollowness in my chest eased the very second the guys appeared. I’m scared and I’m not alright but what I told River is true. I want to go home.
“Okay,” I say. “We do it your way.”