Page 26 of Caging Liberty
I turn my head to face her. “Should I leave?”
Her lips form a straight line, and she stares at me without saying anything.
“Yes? No?”
“I think you people have made it clear that I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“Sure you do. I’m giving you one right now.”
She remains quiet, and I spend the silence trying to read her face. She looks conflicted. Her lips in a tight line say one thing, but her imploring eyes say another.
I stand from the bed and take a step toward the door, feeling her eyes on my back. A desperate kind of tension clouds the room.
“What kind of influence do you have on Sawyer?” she asks, stopping me. I consider ignoring the question and leaving, just to discourage her from playing this game. She’s silent, I walk away, she speaks. How many times are we going to do this?
I turn and slide my hands into my pockets, donning a mask of indifference to cover up my irritation. “Some. Why?”
She bites her lip and takes her time answering.
“Ivy?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you like my help with something?”
She takes a few deep breaths, then nods.
I walk back to the bed and sit.
“I don’t want Julio to come near me.” Her eyes flicker with fear, and she shifts the blanket like the temperature in the room dropped.
“Are you afraid he’s angry with you?” I ask, injecting sympathy into my words. I figure it’s best to soften the defensiveness I know she’s about to feel. “If you had hit me over the head with a lamp, I’d be angry with you too. I know you’re scared, but these decisions you’re making don’t come without consequences.”
“It wasn’t a lamp.” She gives her head a shake and lowers her eyes. “It was a water glass. And I had a good reason this time.”
I try not to roll my eyes with skepticism. “And what would that be?”
“He was going to rape me.” Her voice shakes, and she keeps her gaze aimed at the bed. Genuine fear—which I’ve only seen in spurts—floods her face like she just took a mask off to reveal it.
My muscles bunch, and anger snakes its way inside of me, taking hold just as it did a half hour ago.
“You asked me what the difference is between being here and the life I had before, and for a while, I thought maybe you had a point. But my husband never held me down to rape me. He never locked me in a cellar or room and starved me. You people think—”
“Julio held you down?” I ask, my jaw clenching.
Lib finally looks at me, studies my face for a moment, then nods.
That son of a bitch.
A fire rages inside of me, and every muscle I have itches to propel me from this room, find Julio, and strangle him.
But I don’t move. I continue sitting on the bed with Lib and try not to let my head explode.
“He shouldn’t have done that.” I take a steadying breath. “That’s not the kind of thing we condone here.”
“Are you fucking with me?” she scoffs. “Sawyer told me the day I got here that some of the men on this island have ‘disgustingly dark tastes.’ Why are you so hellbent on selling this life to me? Even if I was an idiot and believed the bullshit you say, do you think I wouldn’t find out the truth eventually? Please, just—”
“You’re right,” I cut her off before she can continue her tirade. “Individual owners don’t have a lot of rules. There aresome, but not many. But here, in the manor, Sawyer makes the rules. And I know for a fact that rape is not allowed. You’re a manor whore, and you’re expected to act like one, but no one should be physically forcing you. That’s the reason you’re here right now instead of on your back with someone else.”