42. Freya
FREYA
A llie sits cross-legged on my bed, moving Jude’s stones around on the sheets in front of her.
I tap my palm on the bed. “Are you paying attention?”
Allie glares at me. “You ruined the pattern.”
My eyes drop to the stones that are now ever so slightly out of alignment and I force myself to take a slow breath. “Allie, this is important.”
She just blinks at me.
This, this is what I’m worried about. Allie’s slipping away and if she doesn’t follow the plan, everything could go wrong. I want to go through it again but the dead look in her eyes tells me I’m not getting any more out of her this evening. Either she’ll do what we agreed on or she won’t.
I drag my backpack out from under the bed and focus on the things I can control instead. I double check it’s got everything I need in it and slip my phone from my pocket to read over the text Reaper sent me.
Reaper: Good luck, Wildcat.
I grip the phone tight, hoping that luck embeds in my bones. I feel like we’re going to need it.
River knocks on the open door and I slip my backpack under the bed with my toe before standing up and walking over to him.
He eyes Allie, who is once more lost in making patterns with the stone. “She going to be alright?”
I grimace. “I guess we’ll find out.”
River’s hands circle my hips and I loop my arms around his neck.
I sigh. “So much of this could go wrong. What if he doesn’t even turn up?”
“He will. This isn’t my first con you know.” River smirks and I huff out a laugh, glad he feels able to joke about it. I know this whole thing has him going against every one of his rules.
Anxiety hums inside of me but I tug on his neck, dragging him down for a kiss. His lips are sweet and sure, and I moan when he pulls away.
Dark eyes bore into mine like he can see right through me. “I need you to promise you’ll be careful tomorrow.”
I give him a tentative smile. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
“Freya.” His gaze sharpens and I go still.
I meet his serious gaze with one of my own. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
After a moment, he nods.
I bite my lip, an uncomfortable feeling settling in my stomach. “River,” I say, “you remember our rules, right?”
His voice is gruff. “I remember.”
“Good.”
River taps me on the ass. “Go on, get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Sir, yes, Sir.” I give him a wry smile and get another pat on the ass for my trouble.
I leave River to his planning and head across the hall to Oz’s room.
My heart softens seeing him leaning against the headboard, reading his book. Except as soon as his gaze settles on me I regret my decision to come here. He sees too much and right now the last thing I need is any of the guys figuring out what’s going on inside my head.
“I, um, I’ll be back in a sec.” I start to back out but Oz’s gaze narrows.
“Stay,” he orders.
I grip the edge of the door but my feet still.
“Come here.”
“I was just going to get something.”
He lays the book he was reading down on his lap and tilts his head. “Pretty sure I told you to come here .”
My core tightens even as I curse myself for thinking I ever had a chance of backing out. Oz only gets like this when we’re in the bedroom and unlike River, whose orders make me want to fight, I find I can never say no to Oz.
I come properly into the room and climb onto the bed so I’m kneeling in front of where Oz is sitting cross-legged. “I need a glass of water,” I say, trying one last time to get out of this before it’s too late.
His eyes sharpen behind the wire frames of his glasses, and he reaches for his phone. “Eli can get it.” He types out a message with one hand, barely breaking eye contact with me.
“Eli’s joining us?”
Oz hums. “Yeah, I think you might need him.”
My shoulders drop. “I’m fine, Oz.”
“Uh huh.” He puts his book to one side and reaches out to tug on my braid. “What are you hiding, Mo Leannan?”
I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth and hold his gaze. “Nothing.”
He sits forward and flips me before I can react. My back bounces on the bed and I find myself looking up at a very dominant Oz.
His hand settles on my hip. “You know, good girls don’t lie.”
“Who ever said I was good?” I smirk up at him, playing with fire like I want to get burned.
Oz shakes his head, seeing through my facade far too easily.
My smirk fades as the truth of my words reverberate through my body. I’m not good.
Oz drags his hand up to the nape of my neck, cradling me in his palm. “You’re scared,” he whispers.
“I’m seeing the man who abused me tomorrow. Don’t I get to be scared?”
Oz’s eyes shutter. “Of course you do, but that’s not what this is.”
My breath shudders out of me. I lift my hand up to brush my palm against his beard. “Why do you see everything ?”
He shakes his head. “Not everything. Just you. I see you, Freya, because I am never not watching you.”
With the man’s ability to hack practically anything, that could very well be true.
Which should probably worry me more than it does.
The door opens with a soft click and Eli comes inside holding a glass of water. “What did I miss?” he asks.
Oz doesn’t move from his position above me, and I try not to get distracted by the way his biceps bulge from holding himself up.
“Freya was just about to tell me what’s going on inside her pretty little head.” His lips tilt up. “But now she’s got a bit side-tracked checking me out.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks and I snap my eyes back to his amused ones.
Oz gives my neck a squeeze. “Come on, Mo Leannan, time to come clean.”
Fuck . He’s not going to give up. My gaze shifts to Eli because I don’t want to see Oz’s reaction to what I say next.
“I’m not scared of seeing Zach again,” I tell him, “I’m scared of what I might do to him.
” The confession hangs in the room, the darkness of the words I can’t quite bring myself to say, thick and heavy.
After a moment I get up the nerve to look at Oz.
He nods once then draws back.
For one god-awful second I think he’s done with me, that he’s horrified by the monster my father made. Then he picks me up and shifts us till his back is against the headboard and I’m straddling his lap.
“Eli, come here.”
Eli puts the glass down on the bedside table and climbs onto the bed. He winds my braid around his fist and tugs till I’m looking at him.
Oz’s thumbs rub along the bare skin between my shirt and pants. “Do you think any less of Eli because he killed your father?”
I try to shake my head, but Eli’s grasp holds me steady. I sigh. “No. Of course not.”
“Then why are you holding yourself to different standards?”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not the same. Eli wasn’t raised to be a killer.”
Oz leans forward, his breath hot against my ear. “You know, only brats roll their eyes.”
“Then maybe you should punish me, River ,” I snark, tugging my braid free from Eli to glower at Oz.
Laughter bursts out of him and my stomach flips at how beautiful he is with his head tipped back, a smile radiating across his face.
Eli’s hands circle my waist, and he pulls me off Oz. “Famous last words, Kitty Kat.”
Then he turns to Oz. “How do you want her?”
Oz’s laughter dies down, a deadly smile on his lips as he lifts my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Cuffed to the bed. On her back.”
“Oz…” His name comes out breathy as I squeeze my thighs together.
“And cut her shirt off,” he adds, and I don’t know why them talking about me is so fucking hot.
Eli maneuvers me into position and the cuffs click around my wrists, anchoring me to the headboard. I could fight but I don’t want to. I need this. Need to feel the bite of pain and the heady arousal that comes with it. Sometimes it’s the only thing that gets me out of my own head.
Eli’s blade flashes in the light from the lamp as he slices through my shirt and bra, and I look away before thoughts of how exactly I want to use that knife on Zach flood my mind.
“Hey,” Eli says, drawing my gaze back to him with the flat side of the knife against my cheek.
My heart races at having the blade against my skin and my breasts heave.
He taps the hilt of the knife. “This can be used for pleasure as well as pain, remember?”
If only that was what I was worried about. I know Eli won’t hurt me. It’s who I might hurt that concerns me.
“You don’t know the things he taught me, Eli. I could do so much damage with that knife. I could end Zach’s life with the flick of a wrist.”
“But you won’t. Not unless you have to.” His brown eyes look down at me, not scared in the slightest.
“I don’t want to be a killer,” I whisper. “I fought so hard to not be what my father made me but sometimes I worry he left too many marks. Too many scars. Inside and out.”
Oz comes back from the corner of the room and I suck in a breath at the lit candle he has cupped in his hand.
“The only people who have left a permanent mark on your soul are me, Eli, Jude, and River. The rest of this…” he kneels on the bed and runs his knuckles over my scarred chest, between the valley of my breasts, “is just surface level.”
Eli’s arm locks over my waist and I brace myself as Oz tips the candle.
The wax hits my skin and I hiss, my hips jerking against Eli’s hold. The slight burn fades into a tingle and heat spreads across my chest.
The next drop lands on my nipple and I feel it in my core.
Eli circles his finger around my pebbled peak as the wax dries, then flicks my tender nipple. “So fucking pretty.”
The candle Oz chose is a soft purple, and he works his way around my chest, drizzling hot wax over me.
My scars wreak havoc with my nerves and while some areas are numb to the pain, others are overly sensitive.
When Oz hits a spot just above my pussy, I gasp.
My back arches, my wrists pulling at the cuffs.
Heat flushes through my whole body and I barely register Eli’s hands on me as he pulls my jeans off my legs, leaving me in just my panties.