Page 48 of Caging Liberty

“The front gate is guarded at all times, so you’ll have to take the path you watched Sawyer and Mr. A take earlier. That’s where it leads. There’s a separate gate that needs a passcode for you to get through. It’s 59843.”

I repeat the numbers several times before asking, “How do you know all this?” Part of me wonders why she hasn’t already done this herself, but I understand. I’mterrified,and I haven’t had enough time to fully absorb the consequences of getting caught.

“I watched Mr. A type it in. Like I said, I’ve basically been his slave for the last year.”

My nose wrinkles. He took her to a crematorium? I decide not to bother asking about it. I’m wasting time, questioning everything she tells me. She’s right… I have a habit of asking the wrong questions.

“When is the best time to go?” I ask instead.

“Tonight, when everyone is in the playroom. They can’t keep track of all of us then.”

“But the guard,” I say, remembering the man blocking the door last night.

“Let me take care of that.” She gives me a devilish grin. “I know how to work these guys. It’ll be easy to distract whoever is working the door.”

My insides feel like they’re buzzing, this plan fueling me with adrenaline. I don’t know how I’ll be able to wait.

“Just hang out by me, wait for my signal, then leave casually like someone requested you somewhere else. It happens all the time, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

She must read the terror-filled determination on my face because she puts her hand on my knee for comfort. She inhales a shaky breath and wipes underneath her eyes, like there are tears there that I can’t see. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that someone like you showed up here. You’re not just saving yourself. You’re saving all of us.”

That thought should put a mountain of pressure on me, and it does add some, but it also eases the dread gnawing at my insides when I think of waking up another day in this hell. After my conversation with Sawyer, I have every reason to lay low. It’s what the reasonable part of my mind is begging for. Do what they say and survive, just like Naomi is doing.

But what would I be waiting for? Death? A life of forced servitude, tending to the needs of countless, disgusting men with overinflated egos? This isn’t just my life on the line, like Desiree said. There’s another boat coming, and if I can get to that phone, I can spare whoever is supposed to be arriving from this horror. I could save everyone.

I push my fear down as far as it’ll go, and I square my shoulders. Even if I don’t succeed, it’ll be worth it.

At least I’ll be able to say I tried.

14

Liberty

Desiree was true to her word.

All I had to do to leave the playroom unnoticed was wait for a group of three—one man and two women—to walk out the door. I followed right behind to blend in with them, and with Desiree talking up the guard, he never even cast his eyes my way.

I broke away from the threesome—pun intended—and am now almost to the back exit. I plant myself against the wall next to a sliding glass door, inching my head far enough out to peek.

Two couples play chicken in the pool. A woman I haven’t seen around the manor yet screeches as she falls off the shoulders of a muscular man with a long beard. They laugh as she comes up for air, flinging her hair behind her. She splashes the others with a smile on her face.

A circular, inground hot tub is only a few feet from the corner of the pool, and it’s occupied by Sawyer and Anna. His hand grasps the back of her head as they kiss while she straddles him. Apparently, Desiree was right about them too.

I look past the pool toward the break in the trees as I try to come up with a plan to get there without anyone seeing.

I can’t go out the front because it’s heavily guarded. I could go upstairs to one of the balconies and try to climb down, but I risk running into someone along the way.

I nibble nervously on my lip and peek outside again.

Sawyer’s busy. As far as I can tell, his eyes aren’t even open. The hot tub and pool are illuminated, and there’s one patio light on, but it’s still relatively dark.

I move my gaze to the other two pairs.

Would they notice me? Maybe. Maybe not. They’re busy too.

I don’t recognize either of the men, and I know the women aren’t from the manor because they’re wearing collars, which is something I’ve learned only personal slaves wear. So if they saw me, would they even be suspicious? They don’t know my history.

I draw in a deep breath and look up at the ceiling, my toe tapping along to the beat of my racing heart. I decide to go for it. If I get caught, I’ll pretend to simply be avoiding the playroom, which isn’t a bad idea anyway. I spent an hour in there, feeling more exposed in the skimpy, black lingerie—required by Sawyer—than if I’d been naked.