51. Freya
FREYA
I t’s been twenty-four hours since I killed Allie. Twenty-four hours of existing in a world my twin does not. If you can call the state I’m in existing. I can barely move without splintering inside.
Every time I lift my hand, I feel the tug of her flesh as I pull the knife out of her stomach. See her eyes roll back. My eyes. Our eyes.
We were raised to be one person. How can I still be alive when she’s dead?
I’m little more than a zombie for the next week.
The guys insist on looking after me, even when I do nothing to help them.
Oz cooks me food that I barely eat. Jude binge watches endless TV with me.
Eli holds me every night while River sits watching, waiting for the inevitable moment I wake up screaming.
It’s the only time I actually feel anything other than numb.
Maybe this is my punishment for taking a life, to still be living but not actually alive.
Allie stares at me from every mirror. My own reflection haunts me, shattering glimpses in windowpanes and black screens.
I need to get out of the house.
When I wake up early the next morning, I swallow down my screams and slip out of bed. River’s fallen asleep in the armchair so I’m able to leave without anyone stopping me.
My broken thumb is still in a splint and Oz will be mad but it’s worth it when I rev my bike and shoot down the road.
I drive faster than I should. Take corners at death-defying speeds. I taunt the grim reaper, daring him to come and take me because it’s the only thing that makes me feel alive.
When he doesn’t appear, part of me wishes he had.
The guys are waiting for me when I get back, but no one says anything. Too afraid I’ll break.
Riding becomes my refuge. I spend hours out on my bike, tearing up gravel, burning fuel. When I’m riding, I can breathe. I can feel. The wind on my skin, the gravel under my boots. Every twist of the accelerator reminds me that I am real and yet it’s still not enough.
We’re creeping up on Christmas Eve, but no one’s put any decorations up.
Celebrating Christmas is another thing I’ve never done, and I know Jude was planning on fixing that.
Now he’s too busy trying to fix me instead.
Every day he asks me to talk to Alistair and every day I say no.
I don’t want to feel better. I don’t deserve to.
I’m heading out for another ride when Eli steps in front of the door, blocking me. “It’s midnight,” he says. “The roads are covered in snow.”
My good hand tightens around the helmet tucked in the crook of my elbow. “I don’t care.” I move to step past him, but his arm shoots out, hooking around my waist.
“Yeah, well fuck that because I do.”
I tense in his hold.
Eli’s lips brush against the shell of my ear. “I get it. You need the high, but you’re not riding tonight.”
River comes up behind us, his arms crossed over his chest. “You have to stop burying everything you’re feeling, Freya.”
I let my helmet dangle from my fingers by the strap. I don’t like that Eli won’t let me go. I don’t like the way he and River are looking at each other.
I push my hand against Eli’s chest. “Just let me ride.”
Strands of his streaky blond hair fall across his eyes as he shakes his head. “No. You need to feel alive? You let us give you that.”
The faintest hint of attraction warms my core at the dark lilt to his voice, but I refuse to feel it. I think of Allie and of how she won’t feel anything ever again.
I go to dodge past Eli, but River pulls me back and shoves me against the wall. He presses his chest to mine and snakes his hand around my throat.
I still. Sparks from his fingertips jump through my body. It’s impossible not to feel when he’s touching me. Warmth emanates from his chest and it’s so tempting to lean into him, to let him carry some of the weight dragging me under.
He tilts my head back till his inked out eyes settle on mine. “Eli’s bedroom. Now, darling.”
“Is that an order?” I snark, because I know if I give in to that temptation there’s no going back.
“Yes,” River hisses.
“Where are Oz and Jude?” I ask after he draws away.
“Waiting.”
I look between Eli and River. They’re not going to let me go without a fight and I don’t have the energy or desire to take them on.
I leave my helmet by the door and walk down the hall to Eli’s room, the two of them following behind.
I know they’re only trying to help. I’m just not sure whether I want them to.
“This isn’t going to work,” I say as Eli ties my wrists to the top of the frame at either end of his four-poster bed.
I’m in my panties and bra, kneeling at the bottom of the mattress.
Oz folds the clothes River ordered me to strip and places them on the window seat.
“What you’ve been doing isn’t working,” he counters as he turns to face me, leaning against the recess.
Worry lines crease his forehead and the tiniest trace of guilt flickers in my stomach. I don’t want them worrying about me.
“Are your wrists alright?” Eli murmurs as he checks the soft rope, making sure it’s knotted in a way that protects my healing hand.
“It’s fine,” I tell him, needing his hands off my body before his soft touch has me crumbling.
Jude kneels in front of me on the bed. “You’ve got to let yourself feel, Freya.” He cups my cheek in his palm. “You haven’t cried once since Allie died.”
“Since I killed her,” I snap, a slither of anger breaking through the numbness.
River tsks and the unmistakable leather tip of a crop presses against the curve of my ass. “See now, that . That is not allowed.”
I don’t bother trying to look back at him, I just keep my sullen gaze on Jude. “Why not? It’s the truth. No lies, remember?”
Before I can brace for it, a sharp sting whips my upper thighs and I pitch forward, Eli’s ropes holding me in place.
“Fuck!” I hang my head, letting my body carry me away as the burn rolls through me. After being numb for so long the sharp burst of pain feels like coming alive. For one second it’s pure bliss but with it comes all the emotions I’ve been burying.
Panic bubbles in my chest. I can’t do this. I can’t feel this.
I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my good hand into a fist.
Jude hooks two fingers under my bra strap and tugs me in towards him.
I open my eyes to find him gazing deep into my soul. “Angel,” his voice cracks. “You’ve got to stop fighting.”
I bite back the urge to lean towards him, to bury myself in his chest and let him hold me. I know he’s right but I’m so fucking scared that if I let myself break, I’ll never un break.
In the end, River doesn’t give me a choice.
His presence fades away behind me and I hear him put down the crop and pick up something else. I figure out what when he trails the smooth strips of leather over my back.
Jude unhooks my bra, and Eli circles his hand around my neck, his breath warm smoke against my ear. “Cat-O-Nine tails. Seems appropriate, don’t you think, kitten?”
I try to stay numb but my body trembles, fear and anticipation mingling together. My skin tingles where the soft strands of the whip brush along my spine. I know River won’t harm me but that doesn’t mean he won’t make it hurt.
He winds my hair around his hand and arranges it so the golden waves rest over my shoulder, out of the way.
The gentle kiss he presses to the back of my neck makes my breath hitch.
“Sometimes, my darling,” he murmurs against the crook in my neck, “when you’re in pain, you have to let yourself feel it.
” He draws back and I whimper at the loss of his touch.
“Even when you don’t want to.”
The nine strands of the whip kiss my skin in perfect synchronicity and I scream. The pain shreds sharp lines across my back and ass, the tips of the tails hooking around to the side of my ribs.
River pulls back and delivers another blow. Again, and again. The pain bleeds together, fire licking across my ass. Tears blur my eyes until I don’t have the capacity to hold them back anymore.
I’m sweating, heat spreading through my body. My toes curl. My core pulses. I’m overloading on emotion and panic claws at my chest.
My eyes lock on Jude.
He cups my cheek, brushing a runaway tear with his thumb. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just let go.”
“I can’t,” I choke out.
“Yes, you can.” He presses his lips to mine. “I’ll catch you, Freya. I’ll always catch you.”
I close my eyes, not able to bear seeing him and the pure love in his eyes. He’s offering everything I want. Everything I need. Everything I don’t deserve .
Jude sighs. “Another,” he says, and the hiss of air is the only warning I get before one final, brutal whip thrashes my skin.
I break.
My knees give way beneath me, and I sag in my bonds, violent sobs wracking my body. “Allie!” I cry.
Flames caress my skin, the pain overwhelming my senses and crumbling all my walls. Fingers skate over my wrists as the ropes are undone and then I’m being held as I collapse onto the bed.
I claw my fingers around the comforter and curl up into a ball as I cry. “I killed her. I killed her. I killed her.” The words run from my lips on repeat, a mantra of despair. My heart splits. Every way I failed my sister, every promise I broke, flooding my consciousness.
Hands settle on my hips and tug me against a hard chest. Jude.
I grip at his shirt. “Make it stop,” I beg him, unbearable devastation crushing me. “Please,” I cry. “Make it stop. Just make it stop.”
He cups the back of my neck, guiding my head to his shoulder. I’m vaguely aware of his lips against my hair. Of Oz at my back, holding me steady. Keeping me safe. I’m cocooned between them as I fall apart.
“Jude…” I cry.
“Shh, I’m here. I’m right here. Let it out, babygirl.”
I no longer have the ability to hold it in. I sob and scream as my body tears itself apart from the inside out. I cry until there’s nothing left. I cry until my voice breaks and my heart calms. I cry until the only memory in my mind is Allie’s final moments.