Page 14 of Caging Liberty

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Page 14 of Caging Liberty

Sawyer frowns. “Of coursenot. You know I could never hurt you.”

Another relieved laugh leaves her lips before her hands fly up to cover her mouth, her eyes shining with grateful tears.

Her gaze roams the room. “Is this the place you told me about?”

“Yes, it is. You’ll like it, I promise.” He turns back to Naomi who doesn’t look at all relieved. If anything, she looks even more terrified. “And you will too, Naomi. If you decide after a few weeks that you want to go home, we can talk about it. Just give this a chance, please. Not just for me. I know you want to do the right thing for Theo too, and for now, the right thing is you being here.”

She doesn’t respond. She doesn’t even look at him. Her eyes stare vacantly into her lap while tears drip.

“What is he talking about?” I ask, my gaze pointed at Naomi. “What is this place?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers, defeated.

I turn to Sawyer, but he’s looking at the guards, motioning toward us with a slight nod. As I stare at him, I get a distant sense of familiarity, but I can’t place him. I can’t say for sure it isn’t in my foggy head after hearing the other two women say they know him.

The guards come over, and Sawyer smiles at Anna. “Ladies, it has been a pleasure to meet you, and I look forward to catching up later, but for now, Julio is going to show you to your rooms.”

I stand, anxious to be alone with the women again so I can ask them all of the questions making my head spin.

“Not you, Liberty,” Sawyer says, gesturing for me to sit down.

The tattooed guy, Julio, takes Anna’s arm and leads her away with Naomi following. I watch them go before hesitantly sitting back down.

“Cut the bullshit.” I narrow my eyes at him. “It won’t work on me.”

He flashes me his teeth in what appears to be his first sincere expression of the day, his plastered-on kind face dissolving like sugar in boiling water. It has a sinister hue to it that matches his eyes.

I lean back into the cushions as I glance at the other man, Brantley, who’s now guarding the door alone.

“I figured as much.” He lets his eyes land on me, my skin crawling as he sizes me up. “I fully anticipate you being somewhat of a challenge. I prefer single moms with shit to lose, yet no one but the kiddos to miss them.”

“What thefuckare you talking about?”

He sighs impatiently and rubs a hand over his forehead as if he’s annoyed to give me any more of his time.

“All right,” he says, dropping his hand. “For the sake of preserving both our time and energy, I’ll keep it simple.”

I sit up straight and brace for whatever he’s about to tell me.

“Right now, you’re on a private island thousands of miles from home. The occupants of this island pay a hefty fee to live here and carry out their lives with the utmost discretion, and with that discretion, they’re allowed certain freedoms men on other shores aren’t. Such as owning sex slaves.”

My heart stops at his last words. My chest starts to ache, and by the time I realize I’ve stopped breathing, I can’t even remember how my lungs work.

“I know,” he says, slowly nodding as if he can read my mind. “That’s a tough pill to swallow.ButI have really good news for you, Liberty. You’re one of the lucky ones. Someone has requested that you specifically remain a manor whore. Typically, women here are sold within months, and some of the private owners have disgustingly dark tastes. If I’m being honest, some of the shit these guys are into makes me squeamish.” He makes a face, but I can tell he’s just poking fun at the situation. And I don’t care. My pride doesn’t even exist right now.

But my self-preservation does.

I dart my eyes toward the door, and before I can think of a better plan, I leap toward it. Brantley blocks the way, not looking at all concerned, and he must’ve expected me to back down because his eyes widen in shock when I swing my leg up and kick his bathing suit parts as hard as I can.

When he gasps and falls to the floor, I hurry around him, not looking back until I make it down the hall, relieved when I don’t see Sawyer. He wasn’t exaggerating when he called this place a manor… It feels like it takes forever for me to find my way out of the monstrosity.

I catch the eyes of two different men as I sprint past them. I expect to hear boots stomping after me, yells, maybe even an alarm, but only my heavy breathing fills my ears.

I know something’s wrong when I make it outside and race down the path I took blind. I look over my shoulder, panic fueling me, and I cry in relief when I see no one following me. No one yells for me to stop.

I press on, and when I spot a gate, a dock, and vast ocean beyond it, I pick up my pace. My eyes dart around, and I lock eyes with a guy standing at the fence line. He covers an earpiece, his mouth moving.

Along a sidewalk on the opposite side of the gate, a man and woman walk at a brisk pace.




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