Page 78 of Vow of Revenge
“I love you, Freya. I’m still your father. This doesn’t change anything. Please, don’t make me lose another daughter.” Cal stood, his chair slamming backwards. In a few determined strides he was crouching at my side. “Freya, you’re my daughter. I love you. I tried to save her.” The weight of his head on my arm only made the tears falls with more force.
“I know, Dad.” I tried to get the words out through sobs and heaves. “You saved me.” But Kaleb… I went to him last night. It felt right. There was no hint of anger or revenge or even hatred in his eyes. Not now… but before…
I gasped with heartbreak. Had he fucked with my head so much that I thought I needed him? Kaleb knew I was vulnerable, he phoned and left me a message… I ran straight to him.
“I fell for him, Dad. For Kaleb.”
Calvin rose up like a lion. “But you ended it with him, Freya? Didn’t you?”
“Yes...” I stammered. “But I… I was with him last night. I needed to be with him. I couldn’t stand being in the apartment without her.”
“That bastard!” Calvin slammed both hands on the table and the waiters immediately surrounded us. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch. I’ve lost one daughter already. I’m not going to lose another. They will pay for this, Freya. Mark my words. I will end this once and for all.”
Fury replaced my lamentation. “No, Father.” My tone was firm, the mind fog dispersed. “I will finish it. Kaleb De Courcy thought he could ruin me to avenge his father. Well, I won’t fall for his shit. He hasn’t won. I’ll cut him out of my life like he never existed.”
“Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on, Sean?” I yelled down the phone. “Who is, Ana Harte, and what is she to, Freya?”
Uncle Sean’s loud sigh whispered down the connection. “Perhaps you should come home so we can talk about this.”
I paced the reception hall. Freya had left only moments ago, with her real name flickering in my mind like a flame, ready to burn my heart to ashes. The same name as Ana Harte.
“Kaleb… do you remember anything at all?”
“Yes. Since Freya came into my life, the memories have started to resurface. Last night, I relived most of it.”
“Okay, Kaleb. You need to tell me. I’ve waited for years to find out what you saw.”
“He beat her, Sean. Her bones crunched, her blood sprayed, her flesh bruised. That woman meant something to me. She cared about me, and, Sean, I cared about her too.”
The memory of the fateful incident that marred my soul from that day forth, returned like a steam train, knocking the wind from my lungs and forcing me to my knees.
She lay there in a heap of broken bones and oozing bright red blood. The pain in her eyes cracked open my heart. Her lips parted. I could hear her whisper transcend the thundering beats in my chest.
“Run, Kaleb. Run!”
Even in her deathly state this woman was thinking of me. His laughter echoed through the room, bouncing off every corner, hitting my soul with the force of his evil.
The thin sharp letter opener was in my hand. Its cold metal stung the heat of my skin. I stood back, watching myself, a boy, plunge the steal into his throat. Screaming with fear, choking with remorse as the blood spilled down his chest. My father’s eyes soaked up the image of his killer, his son, Kaleb Kingston, the sole heir to his fortune, the boy who he neglected.
“She was dying. I knew she was in so much pain. Then it all hit me. I remembered every bruise, every silent tear she shed, every bandage she tried to hide from me. The same smell of antiseptic. I always wondered how a beautiful woman like her never smelled of perfume. I... remember it all now… I… I did it, Sean. I slit his throat. It was me.” I gasped, accepting the brutal truth. I murdered my own father. It wasn’t the broken woman on the floor who gasped when I dropped the weapon. “Every time I saw her, she had bruises and cuts on her wrists, neck and face. He tormented her. I just didn’t fully understand back then, but I do now. He was a bastard and I’ve been avenging his death, ruining women, when I was the one who slit his throat - to save a woman. I…I blocked it all out. The pain I felt for her. The overwhelming need to help her. I loved her, Sean.”
Uncle Sean’s silence ended. “You were a young boy, Kaleb. Your father changed. We all witnessed it. The woman was handed out on a platter to the VC members until he got insanely paranoid. At first, we thought she was happy to accommodate, she seemed willing like all the other whores he paid. Then Beaumont told us that he tortured her like an animal. Jesus Christ, the man was sick in the head, Kaleb. Damien threatened to sell her child in black market for a life of abuse if Ana ran. I thought she was just a hooker in for a big paycheck. I had no idea what he was really doing to her. Your father was the head of the society, so when he died, Beaumont took claim of the VC immediately and forced everyone to sign an agreement. He won’t allow the same acts to take place during his control.”
“Who is Ana, to Freya?”
“Her mother.”
“Fuck.”
“We found Ana in the red car. She must have crawled to the hanger. I have no idea why, but she died in that car. One of her broken ribs punctured a lung. She was dead when we got there.”
“Does Freya know all this?”
“No. We all swore to keep it a secret. The whole ordeal was buried by the authorities. Cal used his power and persuasion with the law, amongst others, with one condition.”
Sean went quiet.
“Sean?”
