Page 50 of Caging Liberty
Next door.
The knob doesn’t turn.
That’s a good sign, right?
I jiggle the knob and throw my shoulder into the wood, but it doesn’t budge. I haven’t explored the entire premises, so I decide to come back to this room later.
My feet carry me up the stairs where I find a large bedroom, probably the master. There’s a door off to the side that I’m guessing is the bathroom, but that isn’t what catches my attention.
On the nightstand beside a king-size, four poster bed is a cell phone plugged into a charger.
My eyes widen, and I inhale a sharp breath. I sprint to the nightstand and jerk the phone off the charger. When I swipe to unlock it, it asks for a passcode.
Immediately, my fingers tap frantically on the screen, trying to find the emergency call button. But I think twice about it... We’re not in the United States, so who exactly would it call?
I search for the emergency call anyway but don’t find it. Can you disable that feature?
“No,” I whine, tapping in useless numbers for the passcode. I do this five more times before it locks me out. I groan and lower the phone, throwing my head back to look at the ceiling.
Think, Lib. Think, think, think.
The phone has an owner. The owner will be back.
What if I sneak up on him? I could get a knife from the kitchen or a heavy object to hit him over the head with. I could force him to give me the passcode, then…
Then I’m free.
All it’ll take is a phone call to Robert, and help will be on the way.
But what about in the meantime? My chest constricts. I’ll still have to get back to the manor without anyone noticing I was gone … which means I’ll have to somehow bind the owner of this phone or kill him.
Am I capable of killing someone?
For my freedom, probably.
I toss the phone on the bed and turn to go downstairs to get a knife from the kitchen, but I pause, deciding to get a blunt object first, then a knife.
I turn back around and pull the lamp shade off the lamp. I jerk the cord from the wall then toss the whole thing on the bed. I could probably cut the cord for the lamp and use that to tie the guy up. That could work.
I open the nightstand drawer, intent on rifling through the owner's things just to cover my bases, but my hands freeze and my jaw drops when I lock onto the magnificent piece of metal.
Gingerly, I grasp the handle of the gun like it’ll go off if I anger it. It’s heavy in my grasp when I lift it up, and I rotate the barrel while studying it. The hope from earlier swells until I feel like I’ll burst.
I won’t need the knife after all.
15
Angel
Once again, I can’t find Lib.
My eyes scan the playroom, coming up empty again and again. My patience wanes with each passing minute.
I check my watch, my jaw sore from grinding my teeth. I’ve been here thirty minutes already with no sign of the only reason I came tonight.
I drag my hand over my jaw, then take another drink of whiskey. Once my glass is empty, I’m giving up. I don’t even think she’s in here, which means Sawyer neglected to tell meagainthat she wouldn’t be with the other women tonight. Another night wasted.
I rake my gaze over the playroom, out of pure delusion at this point, and spot Desiree headed toward me. One more reason to be pissed at Sawyer.