Chapter 8

There was no elf on the shelf when I was a kid. There was a belt on the shelf. When I have kids, there’ll be a belt. Why? Because I don’t want to raise an asshole.

-Text from Ridley to Freya

Ridley

“Home?” Kelly yelled. “You can’t go home!”

I nodded.

I damn well could go home.

“I can and will.” I shoved my bag full, gathering what meager belongings I had and shouldering the bag. “You have all you’re going to get out of Tasty. Now all you need to do is keep whatever railroad he’s able to ferret information in and out of this prison shut down until the fucking try out Coller’s having next week.”

Kelly’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“You ready?” I asked Wolf.

Wolf nodded.

“You bring your truck or am I gonna have to ride bitch all the way home?” I asked.

‘Cause that would be a long two-hour drive.

“I brought my truck,” he grinned. “Had to drop the boy off with Hannah.”

A slow smile started to spill over my face as we both walked out of the prison.

A huge feeling of relief poured over me as I slipped out the back door through the guard’s entrance with Wolf at my back.

Hannah was a nurse who Wolf really clicked with when he’d been hurt a few years ago. She’d been in his life in some way since.

“You’re fucking her, aren’t you?” I asked Wolf once we reached his truck.

His face shut down.

“You fucking your girl? The dead cop’s sister?” Wolf countered.

I glared at him.

“Fuck off.”

“You can fuck off, too.”

“Drop me off at Freya’s,” I ordered.

Wolf nodded and we started for Kilgore, which was a good two-hour drive from where we were currently located.

“Did you ever get a hold of her?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

I shook my head. “No.”

And I was nervous.

I’d seen the fear in her eyes, but I’d had to tell her to go.

The moment I’d walked into the room, only thinking to get to Freya as fast as I could, I’d clocked Tasty.

I could see the wheels turning in Tasty’s eyes. Could see the calculation as he looked from me to Freya, then back to me.

And I knew, if he could, he’d get whatever information he could out to that fucker, Coller.

The less information he had to give, however, the better.

I was just lucky that Freya had thrown a fit to see me, because it’d kept Tasty and the other prisoners out of the room a lot longer than they would’ve normally been. Meaning that Tasty only got a short look at her.

Last week when she’d visited, he’d only gotten a small glimpse of her before I’d taken her into the family room.

With any luck, this would all turn out okay, and not nearly as bad as I was thinking it’d get.

But when I got to Freya’s two hours later, Freya was gone.

And her house was empty.

It looked like she hadn’t been home for days.

Her newspapers piled up in the yard. Her mail was overflowing from the mailbox.

Her lights weren’t on.

There was definitely something wrong.

“Where is she?” Wolf asked, sounding curious, but not worried like I was.

“I don’t know. I told her to come here,” I explained, getting out and slamming the truck door closed.

I heard the slam of Wolf’s door, indicating he’d followed me, as I walked to the front door.

I cupped my hands over my eyes and pressed them against the glass that lined either side of the front door.

I took in everything at a glance, noting that it was a pigsty inside, too.

Now that definitely wasn’t Freya.

Her house had been immaculate when I’d seen it the night I’d followed her home from the hospital.

Now it’d looked like she’d gone through it with a whirlwind, grabbing what she needed and leaving the mess for later.

Hell, even her refrigerator was open.

“Fuck me,” I tried the door handle.

It didn’t open.

I bent down and threw the welcome mat out of the way, a tiny bit disappointed when I didn’t find a key.

“You keep checking here, and I’ll go check the back,” I directed.

Wolf grunted in agreement, but I didn’t wait to see it as I was already around the corner of her house.

My luck held true, and I found a key under the back mat, used it, and gained entry into her house in less than a minute.

Heading straight for the front door, I opened it and started to look around.

Something was off.

“Wow,” Wolf said. “Place is a mess. What’d she do? Pack and leave everything worthwhile behind?”

I looked over at him to see his hand holding up a computer and her phone charger.

My eyes followed the cord to the ground, and I saw the tennis ball.

“The dog’s gone,” I said. “She took a few things at least.”

Wolf grunted and started to scan the room, stopping at the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.

“Lots of mail here, too,” he said.

I was already half way down the hallway, though, heading for her room.

It was in disarray much the same as the other half of the house.

Clothes everywhere. Shoes strewn about. Another phone cord connected next to the bed.

Papers littered the floor, causing me to bend down and pick them up.

Competition. First place- $50,000. Second place- $25,000. Third place- $10,000.

My eyes scanned the paper closer, and I realized that it was addressed to Corey Capone, Freya’s brother.

My heart hurt.

Picking up the papers and stacking them nicely, I put them on the night table before I turned around and kept looking.

I followed the destruction into the closet, and that’s when I saw that the gun safe was open, and nothing was left inside.

It was a small safe, only housing three long rifles and two handguns, but it was enough.

For it to be empty meant they were stolen…or Freya had needed them.

My heartbeat started to thump harder and faster as the possibilities poured through me.

Pulling my phone out, I called Peek.

“I need help.”