Page 101 of Law Of Love

Kaleb had a permanent reminder of me on his body.

“It’s my favourite piece.”

My lips parted as I studied it, gazing up at him with knitted brows. “More than the cobras?”

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “More than the cobras.”

Forty-seven: Kaleb

Freya had fallen asleep around twenty minutes before the film ended. She’d explained that she hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and after seeing how soundly she was doing so on my chest, I refused to move.

Her skin was dull, and her eyes had been lifeless, and for every hour she was unconscious, I knew her body and mind were healing. If staying here was going to keep her nightmares at bay, then that was what I was going to do. Every night. Until she no longer needed me. Regardless if I was desperate for a piss or not. I could hold it.

I didn’t have work today, but I’d organised something for Freya. Judging by how much she was struggling with the thought that she was a cold-hearted killer, it was much needed, and I hoped this would comfort her.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I whispered as she opened her eyes, appearing slightly confused before she dropped her head back down on my chest. “Time to get up. There’s someone I want you to meet today.”

Freya arched an eyebrow at me but obliged, showering while I waited in the car. The last thing we needed was for her mom to see me and bombard us with questions about what was going on between the two of us. We were going to explain it when the time was right.

“Where are we going?” Freya asked me, and I admired her with a smile. How could someone be so beautiful without even trying?

Her eyes flickered to the gun stuffed into my waistband, and her jaw tensed before she averted her gaze, causing me to move my jacket to cover it quickly. The last thing I wanted to do was trigger her, but my gun was something that I would never leave the house without. Her well-being was my priority. But so was her safety.

“To meet a friend of mine,” I said, starting the car and pulling onto the road.

The journey wasn’t long—filled with casual conversation—and I parked outside a small bungalow.

“I know you won’t,” I said, opening Freya’s door and helping her out, “but don’t stare.”

“Stare?” she muttered, and I smiled, knocking on the bungalow’s front door.

Pierce opened it with a smile, and Freya’s dark eyes widened briefly before she composed herself, plastering a smile onto her face.

“Kaleb,” Pierce cheered, holding his hand out for me to shake. “Nice to see you again. Please, both of you, come on in.”

We settled onto his leather couch, and Freya shuffled uncomfortably, fiddling with her fingers in her lap.

“My name’s Pierce. I used to work with Kaleb.” My old colleague grinned. “Let's not beat around the bush. You’re probably wondering why I look the way I do.”

Pierce’s face was disfigured. He’d undergone countless surgeries, but the doctors could only do so much for him. He was blind in one eye, and his skin was lumpy—indents scattered across his face from where the surgeons had attempted to stick the flesh back together.

Freya chewed on the inside of her cheek nervously.

“We were on a raid, and I got shot in the face.” Pierce chuckled. It was always something he found funny, and I gathered that humour was his way of coping with what the event.

“How did you survive?” Freya's mouth popped open.

He shrugged. “More people survive from being shot in the face than you think. The recovery wasn’t easy, and I’m out of work because of it, but I’m still here.”

Freya turned to me, realisation slapping her in the face. She knew what we were doing here. She was adamant that she’d killed Will by shooting him in the face, but Brent and I had also fired at him milliseconds later, and I’d aimed right for his chest.

There was a chance that Freya had killed him, but there was also the possibility that it was actually Brent or I who'd done it. She may not have been the one to deliver the fatal blow. The human body could survive miraculous things, and Pierce was a walking example. I refused to allow my girl to live with the guilt of a death that may not have been at her hands.

“I may have lost my good looks, but at least my wife still stuck by me.” Pierce released a loud cackle, taking a sip of his ginger tea.

He babbled on about the raid and his recovery for the next couple of hours, with Freya interjecting to ask a question now and then. I’d already heard the story a thousand times, so I sat in silence and let Freya gather the information she needed to ease her destructive mind.

When it was time to leave, it looked as if some kind of weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she took a deep breath as she buckled her seatbelt up.

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