Page 23 of Law Of Love

I drove my knee upwards towards his balls, but he angled his body to the side, so I ended up jabbing his inner thigh instead, and I took the opportunity from his slight movement to slip past him and launch myself toward the front door.

However, it was shoved open before I could get to it, and my wide eyes landed on a frantic-looking Kaleb—Brent close behind him. Both of them held their guns high.

They moved towards us quickly, and Zach was shoved to the ground in a split second. Kaleb clambered on top of him and launched a punch to his face while Brent checked me over for injuries, but I couldn't help but cringe as Kaleb continued to sock Zach in the face, the sound sickening.

“You want to touch a woman against her will, hmm? I’ll rip your hands off your body so you can never use them again,” Kaleb taunted with a surprisingly calm tone, continuing to assault Zach until his nose was spurting blood. I shot Brent a wide-eyed look, causing him to yank Zach up by the collar and pull him away, shoving him against the frame of the doorway.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?” Kaleb asked me, swallowing harshly. The side of his face was smeared with Zach’s blood, and after noticing my eyes continue to flicker to the spatter, he wiped at it with his sleeve. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he gazed over at Brent, who kept Zach pinned against the wood. “Do you want to press charges?”

“Although Kaleb will get in shit for beating the fuck out of him,” Brent added loudly, but Kaleb scowled, silencing him.

Zach groaned in response, his head lolling back as he regained his senses.

I shook my head. “I think he got what he deserved.”

“Barely.” Brent scoffed before dragging Zach out of the house, throwing him to the ground, and marching back after warning him never to come anywhere near the house again.

I settled down on a dining room chair.

“We heard you yelling from outside,” Brent said, clicking his gun back into its holster.

“He just showed up and barged his way in.”

Kaleb cursed, pulling up a chair and sitting opposite me. “What’s his name?”

“Zach.”

“I know that.” A sigh escaped his lips. “His full name, Freya.”

I twiddled my thumbs on my lap.

Kaleb raised his thick brows. “I’ll find out whether you tell me or not. You’ll just be saving me time.”

Dragging my bottom lip into my mouth, I focused on how Kaleb’s tongue scraped against the front of his teeth. It was something he always did when he was upset or uncomfortable—a telltale sign he wasn't thrilled right now. “Zach Peters.” I attempted to catch my breath, but my throat felt like it was closing. I was a pretty tough cookie, but what had just happened had thrown me into a state of shock.

“Freya, you’re fine,” Kaleb said, kneeling down on the floor before me after noticing my shaking hands. He placed his palm on the back of my head, guiding it down. “Put your head between your knees and close your eyes. Try to breathe slowly.”

I did as he said, my pulse rapid and my skin clammy. The room was primarily silent as I tried to calm down, and I focused on anything but my elevated breathing rate, counting the number of cracks in the wood beneath me and the small individual splatters of mud on the laces of my tennis shoes.

After a couple of minutes, my chest loosened up.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, lifting my head slowly to avoid any dizziness.

“Okay.” Kaleb’s jaw was taut, and his eyes were heated, his pupils blown out. “I'm getting the house security cameras in case that asshole comes back.”

Twelve: Kaleb

It had been hours since Brent and I had found Zach in the house with Freya, and I was raging. I could still feel my fury flowing through my veins and seeping out of my pores, coating me and making my skin itch.

My gun hadn’t left my hands, and I squeezed the cool metal barrel, imagining myself firing a bullet straight through Zach’s cold heart. The world would be better off without him.

“Do you think she’s asleep?” Brent asked me from the other side of the couch, and I shrugged, keeping my gaze on the cream-coloured carpet.

I’d made Brent stay because I knew that if I was left alone, I was going to hunt Zach down and subject him to copious amounts of pain before burying him six feet under. It was what he deserved—he'd got off easy. A broken nose was nothing compared to what I wanted to do to him.

Freya had gone upstairs to shower, but we hadn’t heard her make a sound for hours. She needed the rest, so we tried to remain as quiet as we could downstairs.

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