Page 91 of Vow of Revenge
I had to be the one to show her the words, the pain, the heartbreak, the torture, the reality. I deserved the opportunity to watch her feel the emotions - together, united. I needed her to heal my wounds, to accept my sacrifice and to try to love me, as I loved her.
Calvin had leafed through the worn pages in silence. We sat side by side while the history of Ana’s tormented life bled from each word. He understood the actions of a scared boy who acted out of love and then guarded his secrets in a safe place, buried deep in his subconscious until the time was right.
He accepted my vow of revenge was over.
He agreed to my vow of redemption as a new beginning.
My tears tumbled to the already sopping wet hoody. The lump in my throat grew bigger, trying helplessly to hold back ragged sobs. I held the book out, trying my best to guard it from the splashes.
His eyes were dark, searching my face. My mother’s face drifted through my thoughts; a niggle of jealousy nipped my heart. She loved him, she spent time with him while I was passed from neighbour to neighbour. Of course, she loved him, how could she not. My stomach twisted in knots.
“You saved her.” I sniffled, gazing up into his handsome tortured face.
His head shook. “She died anyway. I ran away and hid instead of really helping her.”
I could only muster a croaked whisper. “You saved her with your love, with what you did for her.” I gulped.
His palms covered his face, rubbing down the coarse prickles on his jaw. “Freya…”
Silence.
“My head is all over the place. I killed him. It was so traumatic that I blocked it out. It was me. All this time I’ve been punishing women, when it was me who needed to be punished.”
A whimpered sob escaped my forced composure. “Did you want to punish me? Was I one of those women?”
“I was fascinated by you the second I caught you arguing with the bouncers in the club. A part of me tried to deny the need I felt to protect you. I fought against it.” His low laugh was like a deep rumble. “I thought you were trying to break me, and you did.” He cupped my cheeks. “I fell in love with you from the minute I kissed you, but I promise – I had no idea who you were.”
My eyes bugged with possibilities. “You actually love me?”
“I’m fucking crazy about you.” A sexy scowl furrowed his brow. “I tried to tell you at Hanley, at the auction, only I didn’t know how to admit it to you or myself.”
I wrapped my arms around him, willingly drawing him closer. The warmth of his breath nestled in my scalp. My heart raced to the finish line, choosing to listen to my gut and believe him. “Kaleb…” I paused for a heartbeat. “I love you,” I whispered. I felt his lungs retract as he sighed, like relief washed away all the years of hurt he once stored in his heart. “I didn’t think I could’ve loved you more than I already did, until I read this.” I still had the tatty notebook secured in my hand. “I have to read everything she wrote. Every single word.”
“It’s harrowing. I’m nothing like him, Freya.” He stepped back. “I need to preserve it. Let me put the book back in its protective jacket.”
Just at that moment, when I released it into his possession, something fluttered to the tiles. He returned the precious diary to the plastic shield and set it on the console. I just stood there, unable to move. Scared of what I would find written on the loose page. We both gazed down at the single sheet of folded paper. He crouched and gathered the creamy page in his long fingers. With careful movements, he unfolded the creases in grids, finally opened after all these years. “I don’t believe it.” Kaleb lifted the sheet up and turned to flip it over. “I drew this.”
Right there, in front of my eyes was the sketch of a young girl with freckles. The very picture my mother showed me one evening and then tucked it away in her pocket. She told me it was drawn by the boy who I’d meet one day. I never knew what that meant, now I did.
“It’s me,” I whispered. My eyes cut from the pencilled lines to his pale face. “You drew me.”
“I see that. You turned out better looking in the future.” He offered a smile that only made me want him more.
“Hold me, Kaleb.”
Our breathing chased the rapid beats of our hearts, finding each other’s rhythm. The rain stopped pounding the windows. We stood in the stillness; our souls stripped bare. He was mine and I was his.
Ana Harte, my mother, was avenged by him, my love, my everything.
Epilogue
Istood at the back door. Deep barking harmonised with cute giggles and Kaleb’s gravelly masculine rumble.
Champ lunged into the air to catch a tennis ball that catapulted over the grass. Tilly wrapped her arms around Kaleb’s throat, dangling down his back like a wriggling cape. A flutter of contentment brought my hand to rest over my tummy. It was a glimpse of what could be in our future, together. A family of my own with the man I love, Kaleb De Courcy.
Brett’s voice came from behind me. “He’s worshipped that little girl since the day I handed her to him. Even though he protested about it, I could see the change in his eyes when she looked up at him.” He stopped emptying a box crammed with fancy coffee cups and joined my side. “And that little girl has saved me a hundred times over these last few weeks. It hasn’t been easy for you, or me.”
I turned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. “No, it’s been a struggle, Brett. I’m always here to listen. You know that, right?”
