Page 98 of Law Of Love

“It’s not a bad thing, Freya. Nerves make you human.” I was speaking from first-hand experience. I’d been a robot before I met her—working on autopilot and never allowing myself to truly feel emotions other than guilt. Being with Freya made me feel alive, though—like the world was actually rotating again. Negative emotions were a part of being human, but so were the positive ones, and before my beautiful artist had walked into my life, I'd refused to allow myself even a sliver of happiness.

She inhaled deeply, and I reached my hand forward and hooked my finger under her chin, angling it so she was looking at me. “I mean it. You’re doing so well.”

At my comment, Freya stepped into my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

The world made little sense unless she was in my arms.

Forty-six: Freya

Iawoke with a gasp, my body coated in sweat and my eyes teary. My heart was pounding, causing my ribs to ache, and I glanced at my bedside clock to see that it was almost six in the morning.

Yet another nightmare. This time, I was being dragged into the depths of hell by Satan himself, his raspy laugh echoing around me and bouncing off the tongues of flames that surrounded us.

You belong here, he’d said.

This is where murderers go.

You’re going to suffer for all eternity for what you’ve done.

There was no way I was going to get back to sleep, so I pushed myself out of bed and hopped into the shower. I was visiting my father in prison today. I needed answers. I knew nothing he would say would satisfy me, but I wanted to hear why he’d got involved with such a career in the first place. Gaining clarification was going to help with my healing—something I’d discussed with my therapist.

I stole another glance at the sheer amount of roses I had piled in the corner of my room. They made me smile. Although, my mother had almost suffered a heart attack when she came home to find them—I had stashed the majority of them—and I told her they were from Kaleb’s organisation as an apology for getting mixed up in things. She believed me, but scowled and commented about it being a little excessive. She wasn’t wrong, but that was one thing I loved about Kaleb. He always surprised me.

I straightened my spine as I strolled into the prison entrance, checking in and receiving a quick body search. The prison officer spent a little too long fiddling with my bra, and I resisted the urge to tell her that there was no way for me to shove anything in there when it was already filled with my tits.

My dad was waiting for me along with other prisoners, and my stomach contorted at the sight of him in his grey joggers and white T-shirt. The attire didn’t suit him, used to seeing him in suits and designer shirts.

I nodded as a greeting, immediately picking up on his dark under-eyes and pale skin. It was clear he was having a rough time adjusting, having always enjoyed the lavish things in life—and this was far from it.

“I didn’t think you’d show,” he told me, and I clasped my hands together as I slid onto the chair opposite him, gulping. I wanted to rip at my cuticles, but I’d been trying my best to stop abusing them for the past few days.

I shrugged. “I need answers.”

My father hummed, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t intend for you to be dragged into all this. I did my best to keep it private.”

I nodded. It didn’t matter, though, because he hadn’t tried hard enough. “Why would you want that life, Dad? Why not choose a normal career?”

His eyes darkened, and for a second, I feared him. He’d always had a bit of a temper, and I supposed it was why he fit into the criminal world so well. “Do you know how much money I was making, Freya? A lot. More than some crappy business job would have got me.”

I scowled. “But yet we were in debt? A debt you were hiding from us. How does that make sense?”

“I didn’t say I was great at saving money. I admit, I became cocky, and I spent a lot of it. I also invested it, but that backfired, and I lost most of my earnings. Then I fucked Will off by losing our stock, and I couldn’t afford to pay my way out of it.”

“You were selfish,” I stated, leaning back in my chair, trying to remain as calm as possible. The surrounding prisoners could smell fear, and I was concerned that they'd pounce if they were to get a whiff. “You put both Mom and I in danger, and we almost lost everything because of you.”

I had to admit, though, if my father hadn’t been such a fuckup, I never would have met Kaleb—the only positive thing to come out of it.

“I don’t regret the money I made us,” my father said nonchalantly. His demeanour was a vast difference from the panicky man he’d been when Will had a gun to my head, but adrenaline changed people in wonderful ways. This was who my father really was. Cold. Detached. And selfish. “I provided you and your mother with a good home, and we were able to take expensive vacations when you were younger.”

“How was that all worth it? You lost all the money, you and Mom got divorced, I almost ended up being killed, and now you’re in prison.”

“We have different morals, Freya. You value the life of others, and I’m not so bothered. I’m happy that you’re content with having such a normal life. It means you won’t end up in the same situation I’m in.”

Was my father admitting to being part of the murders? He hadn't been charged with them. There wasn't enough evidence, but deep down, I felt like I knew the truth. A chill ran down my spine.

Like father, like daughter.

Taking a deep breath, I grimaced. This wasn’t helping at all. If anything, it was making me angrier because I knew there was no saving him—this was who he was.

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