Page 74 of Vow of Revenge
“Do you think I haven’t been hurting?”
“You lied to me.”
“I went to Hanley foryou, Freya. My hand was forced, it’s complicated. Apparently, it has something to do with Calvin and Sean. I wasn’t able to talk to him about it because Sean has been away on business. He’s calling me later. If I’m honest, I couldn’t give a fuck right now about vendetta’s or history bullshit, not when I know what I want.”
“Tell me what you want. Say it out loud.”
“Fuck the past. I want a future that has you in it. I’ve been working through my own shit lately, and it’s opened my eyes.”
The light tug on my scalp brought my face to his neck. “Perhaps it’s best if you don’t tell your dad about this, until I find out what went on between them.”
I hummed. “I wasn’t going to. He got pissed when I told him we’d already been together. He has enough on his plate right now.”
“Well then, if that’s agreed…” His mouth found mine, passion flowing freely from his soul to mine.
“I don’t want to go back there tonight. Can I crash here?” I panted when his lips pulled away.
“Did you really think I would let you leave? I have plans for you tonight.” He winked, nudging his lips to my forehead. “And for the record – if at all possible, you look even sexier with white hair. You certainly aren’t predictable, that’s for sure.”
“And don’t forget it.” The anger bubbling in my belly earlier had melted into gentle flutters.
This is exactly where I needed to be.
Iwanted her - finally.
Acceptance hadn’t been easy, but then nothing in this life ever was. Like listening to the drunken sobs of a broken man in his hour of need.
When Freya had called his phone last night, I witnessed Brett’s heart break when the living sister lit up the little screen. Hurt and misery tore him apart, and he fell to the bottom of another whiskey bottle.
His pain was different – it was lost love.
Not hate.
Not revenge.
More of a deep sadness.
He’d lost fragments of his soul, the pieces threaded with Syrah’s to make one. Now they were missing. He was lost without her love for him.
I knew loss, but it never felt like that. On reflection, I hardly knew anything about my father. Nor could I remember spending time together as father and son.
After Brett had opened a third bottle, I tried to distract him by talking about cars, but for some reason, he kept bringing the conversation back to Freya. At first, I thought he was just clinging to the memories of her sister, but it was more than that. During his incoherent ramblings, he made me promise to welcome the truth of my recent actions. A drunk man’s sharp tongue tells brutal truths.
I still remember how his head lolled to the side and he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. In that moment he reminded me of Tilly, and I felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. I was grateful to Aunt Angie for taking her to Paris on a girly shopping trip. She didn’t need to see her father sink into depression, becoming a shell of his former self. No child should witness a parent break… or die, for that matter. I would give her the world, which is why I decided to give her my dog, Champ. There wasn’t time to find her a puppy, or train it. She needed instant love and he was the dog to lick her face and sleep at the bottom of her bed while her father fell into another bottle of a whiskey.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Kaleb.” He’d sounded so angry, and his face was tear streaked and blotchy. “Haven’t you realised it yet? Haven’t you listened to what’s going on in here?” He thumped my chest. “You treated her differently from the night you brought her back to your house, Kaleb. She was never going to be a one-time fuck, or even a game player, and you fucking know it!” As he yelled at me, the hairs on my neck lifted because he was hitting a nerve. He’d pinpointed everything I’d been trying to hide from, laying it all out cold on the table for me to see. “Your stupid game plan slid off course. You stopped fucking with other women like you normally do. In fact, you haven’t even promised anyone else a false future because you and I both know what’s been going on between you two. You fucking know she’s your future. You have something real with her, but you’re too wrapped up in your own anger to see it. Fuck your dad, Kaleb. He’s dead. And right now, mate, you may as well be dead too if you don’t let her in. And believe me, that fucking breaks me even more.”
I knew he was right. My gut pinched when he flipped off the very man I’d been avenging all this time. “Tell me one birthday memory you have with the great Damien Kingston.” The truth was, I couldn’t. “He was an asshole, and you’re trying to avenge him by denying yourself happiness. Give it up, Kaleb. Isn’t it better to have lived fully, to have loved fully, to have been the man you were meant to be, rather than a shadow of someone you think you should be? Man the fuck up. Freya could be dead tomorrow and then what would you do?”
It all hit me at once. The pain. The fear. The loneliness.
I quickly pointed out to him that he was the cursed one, the guy who would have to drag around his loss forever. His response was the light shining moment.
“I’m not cursed, Kaleb. I’m blessed to have known love, to have met Syrah. My heart was full. She made me happy every day I was with her, no matter how short our time together. I have no regrets. Can you honestly say the same?”
His words reached right inside my soul and squeezed the breath from my lungs. Brett was right. The drunken asshole was fucking right.
Freya had quickly developed into my obsession. Feelings had arisen from inside my heart, and as much as I wanted to bat them away, I needed to set them free.
