Page 80 of Law Of Love

Involvement.

Drug ring.

Will Sheffield.

Location unknown.

Negotiation is possible.

My heart slammed against my ribcage, my muscles cramping up as I stared at the file Kaleb had on my own fucking father—claiming he was involved with the most dangerous drug ring in the city and was working alongside the notorious Will Sheffield.

Thirty-five: Kaleb

The police had a lot to say about their evidence during the meeting my chief and I had attended earlier.

It turned out that they’d known Mark Henderson—Freya’s father—had a connection to Will Sheffield and his drug ring for quite some time, but they didn’t want to arrest him and tip off Will that he was coming under fire. They were after the big dog, desperate to have Will behind bars. His little workers were an afterthought.

It was why they hadn’t taken Freya’s missing person report seriously. Her father was a criminal, and they didn’t want to search for him and jeopardise the Will case. They'd have to arrest Mark if they found him.

The only reason they were now interested in getting in contact with Mark Henderson was because the police realised time was running out for them since Will was putting the pieces together.

They wanted to set up a negotiation with Freya’s father since he worked so closely with their prime target. They were hoping to offer him a lesser sentence if he spilt all he knew about his boss, incriminating Will for the murders.

When the file containing Freya’s father’s photos and information was dropped off two weeks ago, I’d had an hour-long conversation with my chief, repeatedly asking if it was some kind of mistake. It wasn’t, though. The police now had enough to charge Mark Henderson, and they’d involved us since the evidence was solid.

They’d acquired old photographs and camera footage of him running drugs and attending meetings. He’d also taken business trips with other ring members to discuss potential deals with other crime organisations, which made sense considering Freya told me he travelled a lot.

I’d been informed that when Freya and I had asked the police to trace her father’s call, they’d actually located a few radio towers his phone had pinged off. It didn’t give his exact location away, but they knew he was actually way closer than they'd believed him to be. He was hiding out somewhere.

Namalix was just a front that Freya’s father and many other group members used to excuse their high income—much like Will did with his shooting range.

Guilt. It was choking me alive—like a viper wrapping around me and squeezing my lungs tighter and tighter until they were nothing but dust.

I’d come close to telling Freya a few times but didn’t know how to. The police and my chief hadn’t forbidden me from informing her about her father and his involvement, but whenever I opened my mouth and looked at her, I couldn’t get the future images of her distraught face out of my head.

I was lying to her. It was wrong, but I was working on a case that meant hunting her father down and getting him sentenced.

Brent was also aware, and he’d been keeping the secret from Freya. I could see the indiscretion was slowly eating him alive, too, but he could put their friendship aside for the sake of getting Will arrested.

It wasn’t so easy for me, though.

Because I loved her.

I fucking loved that woman.

I was consumed by my yearning for her. Physically and mentally. She lived inside my head all day and night, and as much as I tried to push her aside, I couldn’t. This was going to break us, and there was no fixing it. I knew that. I didn’t know how to explain to her that even though her father was involved, I couldn’t step down from the case. I was expected to help finish this, and how was I supposed to continue a relationship with her when I was poaching her flesh and blood?

Fuck. This.

Slamming my car door shut—having had it fixed since the chase—I entered the house and immediately headed for Freya’s room. Brent had informed me he’d dropped her home.

“Freya,” I called from the other side of her door, knocking a few times before pushing it open after getting no response.

Empty.

I sighed, my gaze drifting down to her bed, my eyes narrowing, and my heart faltering.

Mark Henderson’s file stared back at me.

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