Page 52 of Law Of Love

An unknown number.

Instinct took over, and I bent down to answer the call.

My lips parted. I could hear a quiet voice on the other end of the line—his distinctive huskiness was easy to identify. My eyes turned to saucers, and Kaleb glanced down at me with concern before he shoved a fire escape door open, gesturing for me to exit.

The wind whipped around me violently, my hair whirling around my face, and I clutched the phone even tighter in my numb and quivering hand.

“Hello? Dad? Say that again,” I shouted, my voice wavering slightly. It didn't feel real—like I was having some out-of-body experience.

Kaleb watched me with a taut jaw, the muscle pulsating at the mention of my father.

“Freya? Freya, can you hear me?”

My heart leapt out of my chest at the unmistakable sound of his voice. I nodded. “Yes, I can hear you. Dad, where are you? What's going on?”

He sighed heavily, and I picked up on some shuffling and muttering before my father spoke again. “Listen to me very carefully. Things are messy right now. I don’t know what’s going to happen, so—“

He didn’t finish his sentence.

Nausea wafted through me at his words, my face blanching, and I suddenly felt as if I was about to pass out. For some pathetic reason, I’d believed he was calling to let me know he was about to board a plane home and would see me tomorrow. Instead, this sounded more like a goodbye.

“What are you talking about?” I muttered, my throat drying up. “Dad? Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” His voice turned frosty.

“You need to come home.”

I could faintly hear my father speaking, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. It appeared as if he had set the phone down.

“Is this about the debt?” My tone took on a frantic inflexion, and my eyes met Kaleb's. His own father had struggled with gambling, and perhaps the risky pastime was also my own father’s vice. “If it is, we can sort it out. Just come back, and we can fix this.”

Muttering. Multiple people muttering.

My father wasn't alone.

I flinched at the sound of a yell, and I gathered the phone had clattered to the floor, the sound of a struggle reaching my ears.

“Dad? Are you okay?” My body was screaming at me in alarm.

“Freya?” A pained groan escaped his mouth.

“Who are you with? Who's there with you?”

“They’re—“

Before my father could respond, the call was cut off, and I stood frozen in the middle of the tiny trash area with Kaleb drifting towards me. I immediately attempted to call the number back, but it failed, indicating I’d been blocked.

“Freya,” muttered Kaleb as he cupped my cheeks, my hazy eyes looking straight through him as he crouched down to my level, trying to gain my attention. “Hey, talk to me. What happened?”

I wanted to scream. To yell, but it was as if all my emotions had been sucked from my body, dissipating into the surrounding air. I felt empty. Numb. “My dad…” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. I was surprised Kaleb heard it over the pumping of the music.

“What did he say, Freya?” He pried the phone from my hand, studying my call history.

“He wasn't alone, Kaleb. It sounded like someone… was hurting him.”

Kaleb cursed under his breath, glaring down at my screen. “It’s alright. Come on.”

Brent and Kaylee were more than understanding when Kaleb explained to them I needed to leave because of a family emergency. He drove like a drag racer all the way to the police station, shoving past the line of people waiting and placing his hands on the reception desk, still clutching my phone. “We need to speak with someone.”

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