“What the fuck!” I yell as I come out of the bathroom after my shower the next day, a towel wrapped around my chest and duck from my sister’s thrown fists. My hands clutch the knot of the towel instead of coming up and guarding my face.
Freyja frowns, announcing, “I’m not scary enough. I need to think outside of the box.”
“Yeah, you do that.” Wearing my own scowl, I gape at her in blatant astonishment, my mouth hanging open from the startle because my baby sister isn’t a fighter under any circumstances, and it’s bizarre to have her throwing hands while coming at me with anything not resembling a hug.
I knew that Indiana was going to talk to Nova and that this was going to happen, but the shock factor outweighs anything else. This isn’t going to work, I’m not unnerved by her or scared of her in the least. I know her better than anyone else, and if anything, I’m well aware she doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.
Sighing, I get dressed for the day then toss my hair up in a messy bun. Nova introduced us to YouTube, and according to one of the entrepreneurs Freyja and I like to watch videos of, this is a good way to still look stylish but not have your hair in your face. She calls it her homeless-chic look, and I’m all about it.
“Holy shitballs!” I holler as I hit the ground and roll, my hands instantly coming up and guarding my face. This is the fifth attack on me in no less than twelve hours. Nova and Freyja are taking turns catching me unexpectedly.
Freyja stands a half foot away from me, a beaming smile on her face with a felt baseball bat hanging at her side. “I did it!” she squeals as her empty hand pumps in the air, fisted with triumph.
“You swung a bat at my head?” I ask, my tone full of bewilderment.
“It was Nova’s idea,” she proudly states, glancing over her shoulder where I notice Nova standing. “He thought that if you saw an object instead, you’d get it, and you did!”
“Relax, Chaney. It’s a kid’s bat, nothing but foam. I knew it wouldn’t hurt you if it made contact with your face,” Nova reasons. “And I was right, you can thank me now.”
“I’m gonna thank you with my foot up your ass,” I grumble out my threat.
“You’d have to catch me first,” he smarts off. “Think you could do that?”
“With my hands tied behind my back,” I sassily remark.
“Care to put your money where your mouth is?” he asks, taunting me.
“You want to make a bet with me?” I ask. “Bring it on.”
Here’s something I should’ve thought further about before taunting Nova and agreeing to a damn thing—you never tempt or barter with a man who rides a motorcycle and chases people for a living.
I’m sprawled out on the grass, panting for breath as I ask Freyja, “You know that saying about killing the cat with curiosity?”
“Yeah,” she answers, giggling. “What about it?”
“Next time I’m feeling ballsy, please remind me about it,” I beg.
Needless to say, I lost. Big time. He was like a phantom, there one minute and gone the next. I never stood a chance, and now, I have to help him pump out the septic system and I’m not looking forward to doing it. Especially once he explained it to me. He even made sure I’m prepared for the foul smell, which already has my stomach turning since he went into explicit detail about the odor. According to Nova, he usually hires a company to do itfor him, but with our father still out there and avoiding the law, staying one step in front of them, Nova’s rented the necessary equipment from the company and we’re manually doing it ourselves and will drop the shit off—no pun intended, and pay for the disposal.
“Maybe we should get you a hazmat suit,” Freyja jokes.
Turning my head sideways, I glare at her. “This amuses you, doesn’t it, sister?”
“It really does,” she states, a playful smirk marring her face. I roll my eyes but hold back my smart aleck retort because it’s good to see this side of her. She’s coming into her personality and I’m enjoying every moment of her discovering who she is and who she wants to be.
“Love you, Freyja.”
“Love you back, Chaney.”
We reach out for each other and lace our pinky fingers together, looking up at the bright blue sky and relishing in the peace and beauty of the outside world as it encompasses us.
I’ll never take this experience with my sister for granted—it’s like a childhood dream coming true. I used to sit around and daydream about feeling the fresh air as well as the sunshine on my face while staring up at the sky, making mental pictures out of the clouds, and creating a story behind them to match what I’m envisioning.
Freedom feels good.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
