Page 35 of Law Of Love

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.

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