“That she is, and she knows it too.” Alvarez chuckled. “If you can make it to her party, I know she’ll be thrilled to have you there. She was excited that ‘Xandy’s friend’ liked ice cream and had black hair and blue eyes like her and her mama. I mean, no pressure or anything.”
“Oh, I’m in,” Freya said, smiling. “I work on Saturday, but Xander said it’s at five, so I should be done by then.”
“Great,” Alvarez said. “And you don’t need to bring a gift or anything.”
“Too late,” Xander said. “We picked up Daisy’s gifts when we were in Coupeville yesterday.”
“Speaking of which,” Wilson said as he entered the room, took the seat beside Gavin, and placed the white mailing envelope on the table. “Someone had eyes on them.”
“And there goes the kumbaya,” Tash muttered.
After taking a pair of gloves from Wilson, Gavin opened the envelope, pulled out the photos, and spread them out on the table.
Her stomach clenched, and she sucked in a breath.
Gavin’s gaze swung to her. “Fuck. You haven’t seen them yet?”
Taking in the photos, she gave a slight shake of her head. “It’s fine.”
She rose and rounded the table to stand beside Gavin. Xander was immediately beside her, his hand warm on her lower back as he instructed Gavin to rearrange the photos so they were chronological.
Eight photos in total.
The first two were of them on the sidewalk watching the parade—well, she was watching. Xander had his sunglasses on, but the photos captured a tension in him, as if he were looking around for something. Or someone.
The next was of them entering the toy store, and then of them leaving the store with bags in hand.
The last four had her stomach turning. They were after she’d fallen. Two were with her on the ground, and two after Xander had helped her to her feet. In all of them, both of their faces hadbeen violently scratched out, the black pen digging through the photo paper.
“Well fuck, Xan,” Gavin murmured. “Someone’s not happy with the two of you.”
“The marks are similar to photos Freya has received in the past.” Xander glanced at her.
Nodding, she rounded the table and retrieved the blue box from the tote bag she’d left by her chair. Setting the box on the table, she hesitated as she lifted the lid. “Do I need gloves?”
“You’re good,” Alvarez said as he donned a pair of black gloves. “Chances of getting prints are low, but yours are already on them.”
A rock formed in her gut as the members of Hudson Security carefully picked through the envelopes in the box. Years of painful memories bombarded her, making it hard to swallow. “They’re in reverse chronological order,” she said, her voice suddenly scratchy. “The photos were fine until three years ago. That was the ten-year anniversary of the car accident...”
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. She closed her eyes when Xander’s lips pressed against the top of her head. She sank into him, grateful for his comfort. The rock in her gut grew, and her breaths became labored.
Glancing up at him, she fought back tears and shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
The tears shimmering in her eyes slayed him. Absolutely destroyed him.
He cupped her jaw and ran his thumb over her cheek. Then he sat back into his chair and pulled her across his lap.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured into her ear. “Do you want me to tell them what happened?”
She nodded, trembling in his arms.
Aware his teammates—hisfamily—were watching them, he cleared his throat and tightened his hold on Freya. He recognized their expressions. Concern and determination.
Over the next twenty minutes, he recapped Freya’s story. From her parents passing and her oldest brother taking over her guardianship, to the car accident and her best friend’s death. From the photos that continued to follow her year after year, to her car getting broken into at the resort, and finally to her getting pushed down at the parade.
As he spoke, Freya slowly relaxed in his arms. Soon, she began interjecting and clarifying points here and there. By the time they spoke of the photos arriving at her door earlier this evening, her tremors had stopped. He was damn thankful for that, and damn thankful for his team.
With the exception of Bean, he’d witnessed each and every one of them interrogate people who were the dredges of humanity—fucking god-awful people—so he knew his teammates could be intimidating and scary as fuck. But the gentleness and care they’d shown Freya when they’d asked their questions? He’d never forget it. Ever.
