Page 19 of Caging Liberty
“What the fuck do you want?” she snaps, her eyes narrowed to slits.
I try to gauge whether she recognizes me, but I can’t tell. From what I’ve heard, she aims her hatred at anyone who steps foot down here, so this may be her norm.
I pull the granola bar from my pocket and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes widen a moment, but she quickly recovers and goes back to glaring.
“I thought you might be hungry.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
I lower the granola bar and glance at the jugs of water sitting in the corner next to her. “I’m told your name is Ivy.” I move my eyes back to her. “Is that true?”
No response.
“I’m going to take that as a yes. I understand you want to keep your pride, Ivy. I get it. You’ve been stripped of your freedom, and you feel like playing nice would be giving in, and maybe you’re right. So I won’t ask you to. You don’t owe me anything.” I bend and extend my arm through the bars, placing the meager offering on the floor before I stand back up, turn, and force myself to walk away.
“Wait,” she says when I’m halfway up the steps. Her voice is barely loud enough for me to hear, and I question if I heard it at all. I look over my shoulder and see she hasn’t moved from her seated position. The granola bar is where I left it.
We lock eyes, and in hers I see so much despair that the frown my lips pull into is genuine this time. I turn fully but don’t descend the steps.
“Yes?” I call out.
“Is Naomi okay?”
“Naomi?” I ask although I know exactly who she’s referring to. Her new name is April, and she’s one of the women who came here with Lib. Apparently, she put up a decent fight the first few days, but she’s back upstairs and cooperating.
“April,” Lib corrects. She clears her throat. “Is April okay?”
I slowly walk back down and over to the cell. I lean against the bars and peer inside. “Is she your friend?”
No response. No surprise.
“I don’t know an April.” It’s a half truth. I’ve never met her. “But I could find out who she is and if she’s okay. If it’s important to you.”
Lib’s eyes bounce around my face as she studies me, her brows slightly pinched. I wonder what she sees. Just another monster, I’m sure.
“Who are you?” she asks. She narrows her eyes skeptically, like she’s bracing herself for a lie or for a truth she doesn’t want to hear.
I take a moment to think through what I want to say. She’s given me practically nothing, so I’d like to leave her curious.
“Mr. A,” I settle on. “I’m a resident of the island.”
There’s a pause while she digests that, her pretty eyes searching me for more information. “Why are you down here?”
I give a small shrug like even I don’t know the answer to that. “I heard you were having a hard time.”
Before she has a chance to ask another question, I turn on my heel and walk away. She doesn’t ask me to wait this time, and when I make it out of the cellar, I find Sawyer waiting for me with a smirk on his face.
“Better luck next time, bud.” He claps me on the shoulder and turns to wrap the chain around the door handle. He looks over his shoulder before speaking again. “I have to hand it to you though… The fact that she didn’t try to attack you is impressive.”
“She needs patience. Be gentle and she’ll quit biting.”
He laughs. “If you say so.”
He fumbles with the padlock, still snickering as if this is amusing. As if this isn’t a woman’s life we’re talking about.
“Give it time,” I say, my tone serious enough to snuff out his humor. “She’ll come around.”
He clicks the lock into place then turns to me. “You think so?”