Freyas devotion, p.1
Freya's Devotion, page 1
Freya's Devotion
Glenna Maynard
Copyright © 2022 by Glenna Maynard
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
ISBN: 9798359434638
Contents
Dedication
. Chapter
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About Glenna
. Chapter
For my Rebels and Devils.
Freya's Devotion
I screwed up.
All Fisher wanted was my love.
My devotion.
I took all that love he gave so freely and stomped on his heart.
Death is a broken man who thinks I can save him. That I’m his second chance at a new beginning. His opportunity to get it right this time around.
What I thought I wanted, and what I need are two different things.
They say you can’t help who you love but what about who you hurt?
Two roads lay before me. Each leading to a man willing to step up and be the father of my child.
All I have to do is choose who I want to build a future with. It should be an easy choice.
The love of my life or the father of my child?
Chapter One
Smoke burns through my lungs as I take another hard drag off my cigarette, watching the cherry burn faster. This shit with Freya has been heavy on my mind. The thought of her belly swollen with my child used to be one of my greatest dreams. Making a life with her. Building our future. Now that image is torn and shattered because while her belly may be growing with a child, I don’t know that it’s mine.
It’s a blow that cuts me to the bone. Making me bitter and into a man I don’t want to be. Never thought she could hurt me so damn deep. She might as well have reached into my chest and ripped my fucking heart out and stomped on it.
The old me would want to wound her as deep. Go off somewhere to find me some easy whore to lose myself in. Knock up a bitch I don’t love out of spite. Rub every bitch I fuck in Freya’s face, showing her she’s replaceable. Only I know she’s not. I know there’s no other woman I want in my bed. Revenge is easy but that isn’t the man I am today. I’m not going to go fucking up my life and being a dumb fuck. I’m not going to be like that prick, Death. I don’t need to plow everything that moves. Wouldn’t surprise me if the bastard won’t have another kid or three on the way at the rate he’s swinging his dick around. Brother has a different cunt in his bed every night. As long as he keeps away from Freya with his rotting cock, I don’t give a damn who he screws.
I stare at the bottles of liquor behind the bar, like I’m a damn alcoholic or some shit, wishing I could have one drink. One sip to take the edge off this pain twisting in my heart.
All I can think about is Freya and the possibility her child isn’t mine.
I keep picturing the two of them together. Her and Death. It tears me up inside, wondering if she wants to be with him or me.
I’m about to ride out to my latest piss test for my PO, probation officer, when Death pulls up a chair at my table. Fuck, I don’t want to see his ugly mug right now. Motherfucker is going grey at the temples. Old enough to be Freya’s father. The thought of his dick being in her makes me physically sick.
All I want to do is reach across the table and rip out his throat with my fucking teeth. He’s my VP and I hate him. He fucked Freya behind my back, but the bastard paid the ultimate price with the loss of his son. Shit was tragic. As much as I hate him, I wouldn’t wish that misfortune on even him.
“The fuck are you doing?” he grits, staring me down.
“I’m afraid you’re going to need to be a little more specific.”
“Freya’s home.”
My nostrils flare. Her name on his tongue sounds completely wrong and the jealousy of him speaking of her burns through my veins, poisoning me from the inside out. “What about it?”
“Why aren’t you doing whatever it takes to lock that shit down?”
I snort. He’s got real nerve asking me about Freya and my intentions. “She didn’t tell you?” Sarcasm drips off my tongue.
“Tell me what?” his brows knit in confusion.
I snuff my cigarette out in the ashtray. “She’s pregnant.”
I watch the different emotions as their shadows pass over his features. Shock. Grief. Embarrassment. Anger. Jealousy.
“Then why are you sitting here instead of putting a ring on her finger?”
I smirk, getting pure satisfaction out of the fact that I’m the one to break the news to him. That Freya didn’t give enough of a fuck about him to tell him what she fears. “Because she doesn’t know who the father is. Apparently, she was fucking a club brother behind my back.” I pause to see how the asshole is going to play this hand.
“She tell you that?”
“Two weeks ago. I’m still processing her betrayal. But I can’t wait to bring this shit before Crow.”
“She tell you who?”
Lying slime. “What, you stick your dick in so many holes that you forget their names and faces?”
“The fuck did you just say to me?”
“I’m going to enjoy watching Prez rip you to shreds before I get my turn. Not only did you break the club’s code, but you also betrayed John Crow. Don’t think he’ll take lightly to your infraction.”
“That what you want to do? Cause a rift in the club because your ego got wounded?” He leans forward, his voice dropping low, “Yeah, I fucked your sweet Freya. Loved every second of her riding my cock.”
I rear my fist back and connect with his mouth. Death’s head snaps back. Blood drips from his split lip. “Game on, brother. May the best man win.” He grins, blood seeping between his teeth.
“If you live long enough to try,” I warn.
He nods. “Yeah, you gonna kill me like you did them other two. Slit my throat. Carve some shit in my forehead?”
“Fuck you.”
“Your bitch already did.” He taps his fist on the table. “Maybe I’ll go find her. See if she wants another go.”
I push my chair back as Prez waltzes in followed by his boys, Zuko and Gentry. Freya’s father and brothers.
“What’d I miss?” Prez questions and sweat beads across Death’s brow.
He talks a big game till John Crow is in the picture.
“I’ll let our VP fill you in. I gotta get going. PO meeting.”
Crow slaps me on the shoulder. “Church tonight.”
“I’ll be here.” I scowl at Death, but the bastard is staring at his feet. He won’t tell Prez. He’s a coward. Wish I could stick around to hear how he’s going to explain that fat lip.
I ride out, debating on if I have time to swing by Whiskey and Yara’s to check in on Freya. I may be pissed at her but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. That I don’t still love her. Fuck do I love Freya fucking Crow. Since I first laid eyes on her and those curves of hers that dared me to make my move. Then she opened that sassy mouth and all I wanted was her lips wrapped around my cock for the rest of my life. There’s nothing sweeter than Freya. Nothing better.
Once my knees hit the breeze, dread cements in the pit of my stomach. I let my anger get the better of me. I’m probably pushing Freya and Death together. I’ve made it his mission to steal her away. But hell, in some ways he already has. I despise myself for some of my choices. Hillary’s face haunts me. That lifeless look in her eyes in the crime scene photos. Bastard detective spread them out on the table in the interrogation room, hoping the ghastly sight would force me to break and draw a confession out of me.
Something has to give. I’m tormenting myself day in and day out. If it isn’t Freya I’m thinking about its Hillary. All the shoulda, coulda, wouldas. I can’t go back and change the past. I can’t go back and save Hillary. I can change the course of my future. Only I don’t know what to do about any of it. I can’t afford to make another wrong choice.
I hit a red light by the bank and read the time on their time and temperature display.
Fuck. I’m going to be late. Fucking Death and his bullshit took up too much of my time. I know I need to talk to Freya. I’ve contemplated calling her what must be a million times. Every time my finger hovers over her name, I chicken out. I tell myself I’ll do it later. Then later comes and I put it off till tomorrow.
I do my required check in, answering the same bullshit questions. Am I still employed? Can I provide a recent pay stub? Have I been drinking alcohol or consuming any drugs? Has my address or phone number changed? What am I doing to keep on the right track?
This bastard has no clue how fucking hard it is for me not to pick up a beer or roll a joint. Turning to drugs and liquor are in my nature. I have two more years of this shit before I’m truly a free man.
I whip my dick out while this prick watches me piss in a cup, making sure I’m not trying to cheat the system by providing someone else’s urine. If that April bitch wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her myself. Stupid cunt ruined my life. I know I had a role in fucking things up but fuck me that skank played me. Knew I wanted to buy Freya a ring. Was jealous that we had a good damn thing. If you ask me, she got what she deserved.
Hillary though. Hillary deserved better. She was a sweet girl who got caught up in someone’s sick and twisted game. Someone is fucking with me. I can’t help but think it has something to do with Freya. I’ve already voiced my concerns to Crow. Whiskey is watching over Freya while she’s living with him and Yara, but he doesn’t have eyes on her twenty-four/seven.
After my appointment I swing by to look in on Freya. I may be pissed at her, but I damn sure want her to be safe. Her car is parked next door at Whiskey’s grandparents’ place.
Whiskey spots me cruising by and shoots me a chin lift as he exits his truck. I pull into the driveway behind him and shut off my Harley.
“She’s not here,” he says before I even get the kickstand down.
“Who?”
“Really, man? Come on now. We both know you cruise by here every day to catch a glimpse of Freya and you spend your days moping around all lovesick and shit.”
“Whatever.” I huff, knowing he’s not wrong. “Where is she?”
He snorts. “Out with her mom, her sisters, and the twins. You missed the damn show, but I got it on camera. Come on. I need a beer.”
I follow him into the garage. Whiskey grabs a bottle of Bud and without needing told, hands me a water. Though that fucking beer sounds damn good.
He knocks the cap off on the corner of a workbench and takes a hard swig. “Guess Death showed up earlier to ask Freya about this pregnancy shit. She took off running out the damn back door and jumped into the car with Cate.” He chuckles and brings up the footage off their security system.
Freya hates her mother but exactly like Cate, she runs when shit gets hard. “You care if I hang around until she gets back?”
“About fucking time you make your move.”
“You just want her off your couch so you can fuck your wife on it again.”
“Hey. We love having her. The kids get a kick out of her most the time, but fuck, man. She’s miserable. She misses you.”
I nod and sip my water, on the verge of saying fuck it and grabbing a beer or a joint. Doubt that asshole will call me back in tomorrow for another test. Only there’s this nagging voice in the back of my head reminding me that if I fuck up, I’m gone for another two to five years. Judge made damn sure to make me an example.
“Miss her too,” I admit. The thought of her burns deep in my gut like a fire that won’t die.
Chapter Two
I throw open the back door and look around, patting my pockets. Ugh. I don’t have my phone or my keys. Double damn. There’s no way I’m talking to Death about this right now. I’m not ready to face him. I know that makes me a spineless coward. I don’t need to subject myself to more of his rejection to know how he likely views my situation. A mistake on his part. There’s nothing more for us to say to each other.
We said all we needed to the night I left town.
Looking back, I know now that what we shared was lust. I wanted to be needed. Desired. He gave me that. It’s enough. It has to be. I spot my mother’s car pulling in, and I dash down the driveway and through the grass, praying I don’t step on something. I jump into the front passenger seat before she can shut off the engine. “Go. Go. Go,” I shriek.
“What?” She twists in her seat to look at me, as her brows pull together.
“I’ll explain, but I need you to just get me out of here.”
“What’s wrong? And where the hell are your shoes?” She gives me a once over.
Giggles erupt from the backseat, and I glance over my shoulder. Emma and Olivia. My half-sisters. They’ve gotten taller. They remind me of Yara and myself in some ways. Like daylight and dark. They are identical but Emma has dark hair like our mother and me. I chance a quick peek at Yara’s porch and see Death glaring at me as he stomps toward us like a man on a mission.
No thank you. I’m not ready to take a ride on that merry go round.
“Listen, you say you want to be my mom. Here’s your chance to prove it. Don’t ask questions. Just drive.”
She lets out a huff of frustration. “Fine.” She puts the car in gear.
I don’t breathe until we’re a block away. I don’t know why the thought of talking to Death makes me panic, only that it does. Since Bensen passed away Yara says he’s like a completely different person. On edge. Agitated. Aggressive with the women he fucks. I mean, that was a plus when we slept together, but I know I’ll never travel that road with him again. I made a promise to Fisher. One I intend to keep.
“Where am I taking you? I thought your sister and my grandbabies were going out to lunch with us.”
“They can meet us there. Call Yara and tell her to bring me my shoes and my phone. And my purse.”
“What was Death doing there?”
“Can you call Yara or not?”
“I want to know what’s got you running into the street with no shoes like a serial killer is chasing you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Too bad.”
“I need to eat something first.”
“Okay. That’s how you want to be about it. Whatever. I respect your privacy.”
“Good.”
“I’m trying, Freya, but I need you to meet me halfway here.”
I stare at my mother wondering what she’s been smoking with my father. Meet her halfway? Seriously. I begged for her to love me, and she threw me away. Yara may be forgiving. I’m not. I can’t pretend the past didn’t transpire. She gave us up. She went off and started a new life and has a new family. She showed me how easily replaceable I am.
“Is he the father of your baby?”
“What?” My stomach churns. I’m going to be sick. I hit the button to roll my window down and hang my head out like a dog on a Sunday drive. I need air.
“I may not be in your life, but I see things.”
“I’m sure you hear them from Yara’s fat mouth.”
The twins giggle again. They’ve been so quiet I nearly forgot that they are in the car with us.
“Where are we eating?” I change the subject. The last thing I want to discuss with her is the possibility of Death being the father of my child. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I am actually pregnant. One plastic stick and my life is changed forever. Yara warned me not to be so careless and foolish. Did I listen? Now look at the predicament I’m in.
“Grab my phone from the console and call your sister.”
I belch and fight against the bile rising up my throat along with the air. The acid burns my esophagus. It is as though I could breathe fire like a dragon. Ugh. I’m already over this whole being pregnant and having a baby thing. How the hell am I going to support a baby? I don’t even have a job right now. And I sure as hell can’t go crawling back to my old boss and beg to work in his bar while pregnant.
I’m such a cliché. Homeless. Jobless. Pregnant. Don’t know who the father of my child is. My father is going to kill Death when he hears the truth. Not Fisher though. He loves him like one of his own sons. If he thought I was having Fisher’s baby, he’d pay for our wedding and offer us a house or something. If only Fisher didn’t hate me.
My heart splinters into more pieces at the reminder of our last encounter.
I ruined us. This time it is all on me.
If I could go back…I’d like to think I’d choose a different path. One that didn’t result in me being in my current situation.
I should lie and tell them neither of them are the father. That I fucked some random guy I met while in Florida. That would be the smart thing to do. Only I love Fisher and more than anything I want this baby to be his. I need this baby to belong to him.
I take my mother’s phone and dial Yara. “Hello.”
“Hey, I need you to get my shoes and find my cell phone along with my purse. I’m with Mom.”
“Are you insane?”
“Can you get my stuff to me or not?”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever. I’ll meet you guys at Romano’s.”
