Page 69 of Eternal

"Fucking kill them. Look, see, it's easy!" He produces a gun from his jacket and shoots my tutor in the head without a single blink.

"No!" I wail, but he points his gun at me when I rush toward her.

"Stop! This is exactly what I mean. Look at you, you're fucking crying while a gun is pointed at you. You're fucking useless," My father shouts. "Grab that rope and strangle the other one. I want to watch the life leave her eyes."

I shake my head aggressively. "I won't. You can't make me."

"You're right. But I will break you."

Pop

The taste of metallic adrenaline fills my mouth, as I stare at their disfigured faces on the floor.

I don't register my father leaving until the lights are flicked off, and the door slams shut behind him. I struggle to get to my feet to escape, but the sound of a lock sliding into place deafens the sound of rushing blood in my ears.

It took 5 days until he broke me at the age of 15.

I wake myself up with a start before that memory can play any further. I whip my head around, trying to decipher where I am, but settle down when I realize I'm still on the plane heading back home. I rub my eyes, as I pull the cameras up in the home.

Freya is standing at the kitchen sink staring out into the backyard, unmoving. I press my lips together wanting to know what's bothering her so badly, but I think I know the answer to that.

Having this time away from her has given me a chance to think semi-rationally. If she really didn't have a shred of care in her body for me, then she wouldn't text me every day two to three times a day. She wouldn't have sought my attention when we moved to Colorado. She wouldn't want to sleep with me. Freya has been through a lot. We grew up under the same circumstances. Plus, I'm sure Tristan fucked her up in more ways than she's even told me. It's probably new territory for her to navigate through just like it is for me. Realistically, how easy is it to fall in love with someone who has practically been MIA for the majority of our relationship? I failed her as a partner. I failed her as a friend. I failed her as a husband. I am the one to blame. This displaced anger shouldn't be taken out on her. I shouldn't have punished her like this. I should've talked to her about it before. But, Freya loves me. I know she does. And even if she isn't I'm perfectly fine with living with the delusion that she is. She is mine. Has been since I laid eyes on her, and always will be now that she's bound to me.

Freya recaptures my attention when she's digging through the kitchen drawers and produces a butter knife.

The flight attendant approaches me, "Sir, we will be landing in approximately a half hour."

I smile as I watch her produce a bobby pin from her hair standing at my office door.

"Perfect."

Chapter twenty-nine

Freya

It’sbeenfourdayssince Soren left. Despite Serena paying a visit to relish in my idiocracy, I'm bored out of my fucking mind waiting on my husband to return from where ever the fuck he came from.

And I have astupididea.

I hold a bobby pin, a credit card, and a butter knife in my hands as I approach the locked door leading to Soren’s office. He's never allowed me into this room, and has told me several times to stay out. I want to know what he's hiding. I’m going to break in and find a way to get a hold of him, or in the least try to find cameras of his location just so I can know he's okay. He has security cameras everywhere, surely he has some where he's at too. I look down at Storm, who already knows her job. Stand guard in case he does come home. After some much-needed research, I attempt to break in by picking the lock. It seemed simple enough, but after nearly an hour of trying, I almost gave up, that was until I heard a little click and suddenly turned the knob.

My heart starts pounding in my chest. Is it going to be Soren’s torture chamber? But sadly, it is not. He has a bookshelf, and a desk, with three computers on it. The computers are password protected, and I won’t try to get in.Maybe he has a notebook on his desk with the password?No, that doesn’t make any sense. He’s the CEO of a tech company. He’d have his password memorized. Besides, I’d like for him to never know I was in here.

A single photo on his desk catches my eye. It’s a photo of him and me at our wedding, right after we said I do. I would love to be able to redo that moment. Even if no one from our family is around to see it. The door on the left side beckons me to open it. Flipping the light switch on, my jaw drops, my stomach hits the floor, and my knees become wobbly.

It’s photos of me. The night we first met, me in the hallway of the apartment in Miami with Serena, me undressing after we met, me sleeping that same night, me at my apartment in Seattle discovering the present, me coming to my orgasm while he’s knelt on the ground, there are so many photos of me. I start to rip all of them down, examining each one. It’s photos of me from every day since we first met. Even before we found out we were to be wed. After we moved here, and I was masturbating in the library while I was in the shower, bathing Storm, my vision became blurred as it’s all becoming too much for me. I start to panic.

Why the fuck does he have these? What would have happened if we weren’t an arranged marriage?

I start to back up when I hit a wall. Except the doorway is supposed to be there. My hand reaches out behind me when it touches a thigh.

It’s Soren.

He stands with his hands behind his back for god knows how long.

I slowly turn around and freeze. I know this is an invasion of privacy, but he has been invading mine since we met. I don’t say anything, but I kneel to pick the photos up and turn back to him. I’m unsure if I should feel angry, scared, flattered, or turned on. I feel a combination of all these feelings.

I hold the photos up and begin to speak when he raises his hand to stop me. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

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