17. Seventeen Freya
Seventeen: Freya
I had a feeling that my mom had been avoiding me. I wanted to talk to her regarding Dad's disappearance and the fact that I couldn't find his company online, but she had been leaving for work early and getting back late, claiming she was in the middle of a big project and had important deadlines to meet.
I just couldn't wrap my head around the fact that the police didn't seem to care about my father's disappearance, though. It was as if it was some kind of inconvenience to them, and his case had been tossed into a pile with others to rot away in a dark room where no one ventured.
“Everyone is asking me if I know where Zach is,” muttered Hannah, turning to me with a cocked brow. I’d told her briefly about what had gone on between Zach and me, but I'd utterly dulled down the intensity of the situation, leaving out the part where he’d practically assaulted me and Kaleb had beaten the shit out of him.
“I know. People have been asking me too. I guess he just needs some time to himself after what happened between us,” I responded, glancing over at Josh, who flung his arm over Hannah’s shoulder, pecking at her cheek. The two of them looked pretty loved up.
Was I jealous? No comment.
“He took it that bad, huh?” Josh questioned as he leaned against the college lockers, and I shrugged, picking at my cuticles.
“I need to go, but I'll see you both tomorrow.” I rushed out of the building, glancing at the sky, thankful it wasn't raining. It’d been pouring all week, and since my car still wasn't running, I had been having to walk to and from college—resulting in me getting drenched. The bus services around here were shocking, and I didn’t have the money to take my car to a garage right now.
Once I got home, I narrowed my eyes at the camera staring at me as I unlocked the front door. The way it buzzed as it moved to follow my movements creeped me out, and I tilted my head at it as if we were competing in a staring contest and I was going to win.
My eyes widened after I spotted my mom, and I dropped my things and sighed. It didn't look like anybody else was around, and this was the perfect opportunity to talk to her about Dad. “Mom, can we please talk?"
She paled, nodding and settling down at the dining room table after a few seconds, lacing her fingers together. “I'm sorry. I've been swamped at work.”
It was a lie. I knew it was. My mother had never been the confrontational type. She preferred to push things to the back of her mind and leave them for a later time, and then things would come crashing down around her all at once, and she would spiral.
I was used to her awful coping strategy. It was why it had taken her and my father so long to divorce. She never wanted to address their arguments.
“Tell me what’s happened again. You reported Dad missing to the police?” I needed answers.
“They said to contact them again if he's still missing by next week. I'm not sure what the next step is after that. They might want to interview us, but overall, they didn't seem too concerned since he’s in and out of the state so often."
I huffed, running a hand down my face. “You and he just divorced, and he was hiding a shit tonne of debt from us. How is that not concerning in the slightest?”
“I really don't know.” She sighed heavily.
Taking my phone out, I searched for the website Kaleb had shown me. “His company isn't registered, Mom. It technically doesn’t exist.”
She hummed in disapproval, swiping up and down on my phone and pushing her glasses higher onto her nose, squinting at my screen. “I'm at a loss. I'm guessing if his company isn't registered, then there isn't a way we can get in contact with any of his colleagues. It’s all a mess.”
“I'm worried.” I gulped, the gloomy thought weaving its way into my head and causing my insides to tighten. It'd been invading my thoughts for the past few days, and it terrified me. “What if he's…?”
“No, Freya,” muttered my mom, shaking her head and moving around the table to take my hand. “Your father wouldn't do that to us. We may have issues, but he would never take his own life.”
I breathed in a shaky breath. My dad had never seemed down or depressed, but then again, I hadn't spent too much time with him over the years. He just didn't seem like the type of person to consider suicide, though—being a straightforward and blunt individual. He loved his vacations and enjoyed the finer things in life. I didn't see it as an option for him.
My mom and I both jumped as Kaleb burst through the door. He didn't say anything, his eyes raking over me before he made his way up the stairs and into his room, causing me to stiffen. He was dressed in a black workout top and dark jeans, his combat boots pounding against the floor as he marched. His hair was tousled, and his eyes were as piercing as ever.
“He didn't look very happy,” my mom commented, cocking her head at me and humming, moving away, towards the kitchen.
Our conversation was over, then. Very on brand.
She was right, though. Kaleb hadn’t looked happy.
He and Brent had been together every day for the past four days, and I hadn't seen much of him. I’d often overhear him telling his mom he was heading out to the shooting range, and he would usually be gone almost all day.He really loved shooting.
Grabbing my backpack, taking out my most recent sketch—ready to fix the atrocity—I ascended the stairs, leaping out of my skin when Kaleb flung his door open. He stared at me, and I froze.
Say hi. It's what friends do.
“Um, hi.”
Kaleb chuckled, clearly amused by how flustered I was, and the corner of his lips twitched upwards. I should have continued walking to my room, but for some stupid reason, I didn’t. My feet were super glued to the ground.
He eyed up my sketch pad, holding his hand out to me, his eyebrows raised.
I widened my eyes, shaking my head. “Why? I need to start it again.”
“Just show me the damn sketch pad, Freya.” He sighed, and I eventually gave in, slowly handing it to him and focusing on the carpet beneath my feet.
It needed vacuuming.
“This is good,” he muttered, cocking his head at my half-finished sketch of a bluebird soaring through the air with its beak to the sky, the wind rushing through its feathers and causing them to appear ruffled. “Maybe your little waiter friend was right. Your work might be hanging in the Louvre one day.”
“Thanks,” I said awkwardly, clearing my throat and taking my pad back. “How come you looked in an even worse mood than usual when you came in?”
“Tough day working.” Kaleb leaned against the doorframe, his biceps bulging, making it extremely difficult to focus anywhere else.
“Working? I thought you went shooting.”
He didn't speak for a second, pinching his eyebrows together, his tongue skating along his teeth.
He was stressed.
“Yeah, shooting is working for me. It's practice. I can't let my skill level drop over Christmas break.”
“Oh right, yeah.”
“Any more on your dad?”
“Mom reported him missing to the police,” I said hopelessly.
“And...?”
“They don't seem interested. They don't believe it's out of character for him, so they want us to give it a bit more time.”
Kaleb appeared a little taken aback. “That's kind of unusual. It's not the procedure usually followed.”
That was interesting to know.
His eyes wandered briefly, honing in on my lips, and he opened up his mouth to speak.
“I'm home!” announced Jackie as she rushed into the house, pushing her long hair away from her face, huffing as she dropped her bags of groceries onto the floor. It caused Kaleb's eyes to round, and he quickly made his way downstairs to help her carry them to the kitchen.
“How was your day?” I asked, following them.
Jackie shrugged. “Besides a boss who won't get off my back now that I've got my promotion? Great.” She laughed. “Hey, you finally got your car fixed, Freya; that's good.”
My eyebrows dropped, and Kaleb faltered for a second as he dug deeper into the grocery bag for a sack of potatoes. “I—I didn't…” I muttered, confused.
Jackie glanced at me curiously. “Well, it was parked up on the road instead of in the driveway, so it’s been moved. I assumed you'd fixed it? Looks like it’s been cleaned, too.” She finished unloading her grocery bag, yanked off her work heels and groaned with relief as she sauntered out of the room.
The cogs in my brain were working overdrive as I bit down on my lower lip. I hadn’t noticed my car had been moved. God, I really needed to start paying attention.
“Here,” mumbled Kaleb as he threw me a set of keys, and I caught them with a small yelp, glancing down to see my lilac heart-shaped keychain hanging from the metal.
“You—you fixed my car?” I asked in disbelief, causing him to shrug like it was no big deal, packing away a box of pasta.
“Don't say I never do anything for you.”
“Why?” I asked, squeezing my keys between my hands. That must have cost him a fortune. Or had he done it himself? The thought of Kaleb all sweaty and covered in car grease made me gulp.
I didn't have the money to pay him back right now—the amount I made from my once-a-week job wouldn’t cut it—and guilt hit me like a tsunami.
“You were walking to college in the rain,” Kaleb responded, tucking the empty shopping bags away in a drawer, studying me.
“Thank you.” I smiled. “But an umbrella would have sufficed.”
He stepped closer to me, smirking. “I'm not really the bare minimum kind of guy.” A chuckle escaped his lips, and he stepped past me into the doorway. “Plus, I like women only one type of wet.”
My breath hitched, and sudden arousal flowed through my body, my mouth popping open. I stood motionless, welded to the kitchen floor with, my heart beating so fast I thought it was going to fall out of my ass.