Chapter 19

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"No human is ever completely bad. There are only a bunch of people who sometimes do bad things..." ~ Colleen Hoover (It Ends With Us)

Freya's POV

"Javi, is that you?" I groaned as my hand immediately flew to my head. "My head hurts. Pass me a bottle please."

I stretched out my hand and a bottle landed in it. I twisted the cap and it felt greasy but I paid no attention to it and gulped its content in record time. I needed more water.

"Can you please pass me another?" I groaned, clutching my head a little tighter hoping the pressure will take away the pain.

"That's all you get today, my princess."

That voice. That voice.

That voice didn't belong to Javier. Javier's voice had a sexy baritone to it but this... this sounded croaky and deep. And only one person in the whole world called me princess and he was supposed to be locked away for life.

"J-javi?" I called out to him. "Are you there?"

"I'm here..." the man said. "But I'm not Javi."

I sat up in an instant, the sudden movement causing me to feel woozy and light-headed. I held on to the wall to stable myself and I opened my eyes slowly to allow my retina adjust to the light. I looked round the room slowly, taking in the set up. The room was dimly lit with a tungsten bulb hanging from the ceiling. Daylight flowed in through a small crack in the sealed up window. The bed I was on was placed in the corner, resting against the wall. My eyes landed on a man sitting in the three-legged chair. He looked old and scraggy with tangled unshaven beards. His eyes had retreated deep into its socket and the bones in his neck popped out every time he turned or adjusted in the chair.

"Who are you?"

"I should take offense to that question seeing as my dear princess doesn't recognize her father but Uhm... it's been a long period of separation," he smacked his lips and pouted. My lips curled up in confusion and disgust. This man who was being overly dramatic and so much of an actor didn't bear any resemblance to my father. My father was huge and towered over everyone and his voice was a deep bass that could make you wet your pants if yelled at. This man didn't seem to posses any of those qualities. Instead of huge, I saw boney and scrawny. Instead of a deep bass voice, all that flowed into my ears was a tired croaky sound.

"What did you say?" I asked as confusion was expressed on my face but the fear was internal and it was building up slowly.

"Uhm okay lets go over the facts. Your name is Freya. You were born 23rd of August. Your mum was killed... by me," he let out a devilish bone-chilling laugh. "I tried to take you to mummy but apparently you didn't want to go since you're here in front of me. I guess I was your favorite parent after all," he grinned and my heart sank at how he could talk so casually about all the bad things he did.

"D-dad?" I didn't recognize my voice. It came out as a whisper of uncertainty. I didn't know whether to believe him. He knew details about me that no one did but he talked like a stalker and acted like a psycho.

"Okay... you're still doubting. I brought my soldier boot down on your stomach. It was supposed to knock you out fast seeing as it did the others when I was in the millitary but I'm still wondering as to why yours was different. You're one helluva strong girl, my princess," that laugh again.

"O-oh God!"

It really was him. He really was my father. I thought he was locked up in prison. At the trial, they had said he had two cases of first degree murder and attempted murder. His sentence didn't hint that he would ever get out.

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