OZ
My glasses fog up on the helicopter ride to the airfield. Carmen lent us her pilot, and normally I’d be geeking out over sitting up front with her because the controls in the cockpit of this thing are insane, but I’m too busy worrying about Freya.
I can see her in the cargo mirror, gazing out over the snowy mountains below. Having her in my sights again should be comforting and it is to a degree, but I find myself stressing over her well-being.
Her hair is tangled, pulled back in a rough ponytail. Dark circles hang under her eyes, the contrast sharp against her ghost pale skin, and she’s lost far too much weight. I want to sit her in the kitchen and cook for her until the gauntness in her cheeks disappears and the color comes back to her skin.
Half of me wants to climb back there and pull her into my arms but the other half can’t help but remember that the last time I held Freya she knew she was leaving. She let me take her, let me into her body and told me she loved me, knowing full well she was saying goodbye.
I want to be mad at her, but the deal she made with Zach saved my little sister’s life and I’m not sure I can find it in meto wish she hadn’t done it. River, Jude, and Eli are dead set in their belief that Freya should have found another way, that she shouldn’t have run, but I’m not so sure she was wrong.
I have no right to be upset with her. Not when the decision she made saved Layla. Not when I would want her to make the same choice again. I just wish she’d have trusted us. That night at my parents’ house, she knew she was saying goodbye and that hurts.
So, yeah, I’m not as mad at Freya as maybe I should be. If I wasn’t so worried about what we’re about to do, I would be the one back there with my hand on her thigh, not Eli.
Instead, I’m all too aware that Freya is about to be royally furious with us and I can’t bring myself to act like nothing is wrong.
The helicopter drops lower as we near the airfield, the metal body buffeting in the wind. I take off my earmuffs when we touch down and the five of us disembark and cross the runway to where the SCU jet awaits.
The cold air is frigid against my face and I stuff my hands into my winter jacket.
Freya comes up beside me as we climb the steps to the plane and I savor having her this close.
“Hey, Ozzie.” The nickname pushes away the cold, warmth rolling through me. “How’s Layla?”
“She’s doing good,” I say. “Started back at school last month.”
The air puffs as Freya breathes out, a tiny white cloud drifting into the sky. “That’s good.”
We step up into the plane and I catch Freya’s fingers as she moves ahead of me down the aisle. “Thank you. For what you did for her.”
Freya’s gaze dips to where our hands touch before she looks back up at me. “You’re not mad?”
I sigh and adjust my glasses as I analyze my feelings. “Turns out I can be mad and glad you did it at the same time.”
Freya chews on her bottom lip, making it flush pink. “Yeah. Okay.”
I squeeze her fingers. “We’ll be alright, Freya. Just… everything we do, we do because we love you. Remember that.”
She nods and I really hope she means it because I need her to remember or River’s plan could get real messy, real fast.
I let Freya go and she finds a seat at one of the tables on the right. I stay standing in the aisle and Jude comes up next to me. “Are we sure this is a good idea?” I ask him, my voice low.
Jude shrugs, the look on his face too detached. Too empty. “She hasn’t left us much of a choice.”
I drag my hand over my beard. “Yeah, I guess not.”
We join Freya at the table, sliding onto the cream leather seats opposite.
Eli comes and sits next to her and River arrives with drinks for us all. He hands Freya a glass of Coke and then leans against the table across the aisle. He nods at the glass. “Drink.”
It takes everything in me not to visibly tense up.
Freya rolls her eyes but brings the glass to her lips. “So, have you spoken to Harley’s family yet? Also, where was Millie left? If we pinpoint that location against the abduction sites, we might be able to narrow down the radius Zach’s working within.”
I drum my fingers on the varnished wood of the table. “I’ve run the data. We think he chose Virginia because it’s where we’re based. He wants our attention.”
Freya squints and brings a hand up to her temple. “He also knows the area well. Have you checked safe—” she breaks off, stumbling on her words. “Safe-houses. That’s what he was using…” Freya’s breathing picks up. She rests her palms on the table, blinking rapidly. Confusion furrows her brow but she’s a smart woman. Her gaze lands on the glass of Coke. “What did…what did you do?” Her words slur and drift off as her eyelids flutter.
