Page 20 of Fighting the Darkness

Freyr sighs, rubbing his eyes for a moment before glancing up at me. “I saw you checking out Freya.”

I wince. “Yeah, sorry about that. You know how much I appreciate the human body. You’d have to be blind not to see how beautiful hers is.”

“Dude, that’s my sister.” Freyr gags, shaking his head. “And that’s the point. She’s my sister. She’s off-limits. There will be no dating or sleeping with Freya. You’ll break her heart, and I don’t want to pick between the two of you. If I do, you won’t like the outcome.”

“I would never ask you to choose between us,” I offer, and he shakes his head.

“Of course you wouldn’t, but if you broke her heart, I’d have to. And I will always choose Freya.”

That hurts a little, but it isn’t unexpected. Freya and Freyr come as a pair—always have and always will.

“I know that. And you’re right. I’m not good for her. I promise to stay away from your sister, and I’ll do my best to keep from checking her out.” I shrug. “But I’m only human.”

Freyr rolls his eyes but seems to accept this. “I want you to promise me one more thing because you’re the only one I can trust with this.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

“If anything ever happens to me, I need you to promise to look after Freya.”

I freeze at his words, not liking the idea of him not being around before laughing. “What the hell would happen to you? We’re sixteen, Freyr. It’s not like we’re dying anytime soon.”

“I know that, but I’d still like you to promise me.” Freyr’s smile is tight. “Promise me that if anything happens to me sometime in the future, you’ll look out for my sister. She’s not as strong as she puts on. Losing me would devastate her, no matter how old we are. I need to know that I have someone who will help her if the worst happens.”

“Of course, dude. In eighty years when we’re old as shit, if you kick it before the two of us, I’ll help Freya. You have my word.”

Freyr relaxes at that. “Good. Now, let’s go. I told Tara we’d meet some of her friends at her place.”

“Ohhhh, Tara... Does that mean you’re finally going to make your move?”

“Shut up, asshole.” Freyr shoves me off the bed, and I hit the floor, laughing. I’m glad I was able to lighten the conversation. I don’t know where all this talk of dying came from, but it’s a little too deep for me right now. But getting some pussy? That’s exactly what I need.

What an idiot I’d been.

At sixteen, I thought we were invincible, but we were far from it.

I made two promises to my best friend that day that I always intended to keep—except I haven’t been. I don’t know how to do one without the other.

The only way I was able to stay away from Freya was by cutting off all contact. I knew that if I allowed myself to be close to her, I wouldn’t be able to resist making a move. But Freya has always been worth so much more than a roll in the hay—something I realized even as a teenager—so I had to stay away from her. I hadn’t anticipated Freyr dying so young.

I wanted to be there for Freya—I really did—but when I stood beside her at Freyr’s funeral, I knew nothing had changed. If I wanted to keep my promise to not hurt his sister, then I needed to stay away. Even if that meant not looking out for her while she grieved. After all, she has her parents to help her through her loss. That should’ve been enough.

Based upon what her mom has told me when I force myself to stop by their house, she’s been struggling since day one—she’s still struggling.

Then she’d shown up to The Guillotine, looking sexy as hell, and I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and take her home. I wanted to fuck her until we were both sated, and then do it all over again. Which is why I told her she needed to leave. I figured if I was a jerk, then she’d leave.

I was wrong.

The fire she’d shown that night made my cock so hard. She’s nothing like the girl she’d once been.

It had been easier to keep away from her as we grew older. She became so self-absorbed, and dare I say, shallow that we didn’t have anything in common.

But that night? I saw the darkness pressing in on her behind the fire flashing in her eyes. She’s not that easy-go-lucky girl who could flit from group to group. After all, everyone loved Freya. She was the nice one. She was the easy one.

I barely recognize the person she’s become. She’s too skinny, which her mom tells me is because she refuses to eat for days at a time. She’s so pale because she’s been hiding away in her room for the last six months. I know that Liv has forced her out of the house on a handful of occasions, but that was the first time I saw her since the funeral.

I run a hand through my hair, hating that it had taken her losing Freyr for her to find her fire. It looked good on her, but I’d been so worried when I didn’t hear from her over the last week. I’d even sunk as low as asking Quinn if she’d heard from her. She’d laughed me out of the club.

I was overjoyed when I realized I had a new message from her. Then I read it and those that had come in rapid succession. She’s pissed at me.

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