Page 45 of Caging Liberty
We stop in front of him, and Desiree looks at me then back to him with a puzzled expression I almost believe is real. “I just asked Mr. A five minutes ago if it was cool if we took a walk on the beach, and he said yes.”
That’s what she was talking to him about?
No. She’s lying to the guard. Right?
I’m having a horrible time reading this woman.
Austin doesn’t speak, but I can see the uncertainty pinching his face.
Desiree huffs like this is the biggest inconvenience of her day, then starts to turn. “Hold on, I’ll go get him. Jeez, you guys are so untrusting.”
“Hold up,” Austin says, already opening the gate.
Desiree winks at him as she passes through. “Thanks, baby.”
I blink, stunned by her brazenness, and nearly forget to follow. I stumble after her, heavy metal banging behind me as Austin shuts the gate.
I have to speed walk to match her pace as we walk down the sidewalk in front of a row of boats toward a sandy beach that stretches as far as I can see. Once I’m caught up to her, I lean in. “Were you telling the truth?” I ask in a hushed tone.
She smirks at me. “About Mr. A giving us permission to walk the beach? No. That guy’s an asshole who doesn’t give a shit about us enough to go against whatever Sawyer wants. But he’s ascaryasshole, and the guards don’t like to take a chance on pissing him off.”
My stomach churns, but I try to not let what she said about him going along with what Sawyer wants paralyze me. Him going against what Sawyer wants is what’s keeping me alive.
“What were you talking to him about then?” I ask.
We spot a man in his boat up ahead, so we keep quiet until we’re safely past.
“What was I talking to who about?” Desiree asks.
“Mr. A.”
“Oh,” she exclaims like she wants to slap her forehead and say, “duh.”
We step onto the beach, and my flip-flops kick up sand. I pause to take them off, and Desiree does the same.
“I wanted to know what the gunfire was from last night, and he took that as an opportunity to scold me for gossiping. Like I said, he’s an asshole.”
“Oh.” I consider telling her my theory on what that gunfire was but decide against it.
“You’d think sucking the guy’s dick for the last year would be enough for a little bit of intel.”
I’m mid-bend to pick up my shoes when her words cause me to falter. I take several seconds to recover, but finally hook the straps with my fingers and stand up straight.
Desiree stares at me with an intense look that makes me think she’s eager for my reaction.
I continue down the beach without offering a response. My eyes stare straight ahead but catch Desiree watching me from the corner of my eye.
“I need to warn you about something,” she finally says when I don’t take her bait.
I glance her way and wait for her to go on.
“I’m pretty sure Mr. A is going to do the same thing to you that he did to me. Keep in mind, if he found out I was telling you this, he’d probably strangle me, so please don’t tell anyone I’m saying this.”
There’s a tremor in her voice that makes her fear contagious, and the knots in my stomach tighten. I turn her way to give her my full attention, but all I really want to do is bury my head in the sand and pretend this conversation isn’t happening.
Up to this point, Mr. A has been the only tiny, minuscule speckle of light in what is otherwise a completely dark society of creeps. He’s been more like a savior to me than anything else, and I could go without hearing his sinister motives. I know they’re there. I’m not stupid.
But a girl can hope.