Page 53 of Caging Liberty
“Will you, though?”
I watch fear flicker across her face, and for a brief moment, I think it might drown out the sheer power she must be feeling. Fear and power… That’s a deadly combination. I wonder what she’s more afraid of, getting caught or shooting someone.
“Yes,” she says, a disturbing amount of certainty in her tone.
“Wow.” I pick up my phone. “That’s cold. Especially considering how much I’ve helped you.”
She laughs dryly. “Don’t talk about helping me. You’ve been trying to make me your surrogate slave, you sick fuck.”
My jaw tics as I hold up the phone. “Who exactly are you planning on calling?”
She doesn’t answer.
“You understand 9-1-1 doesn’t work here, yes?”
“Unlock the phone and stop talking.”
I glance between her and the phone again before letting out a heavy sigh. I don’t believe her when she says she’d shoot me. I think she’s a lot of things, but I seriously doubt she’s capable of murder. Even if she was, she would still need me to unlock the phone.
The gun rattles in Lib’s newly trembling hands. Her fear is starting to take hold, and I imagine she’s figuring out just how fucked she is. How fucked shecould beif I hadn’t made it to her before someone else. I’ve never been more grateful for Desiree insisting on coming to me with the manor’s drama.
I could take the gun. I’m certain of it.
But something’s stopping me. I’m tired of her fighting me. I’m tired of her pathetic attempts to resist her new life. I could wait for her to come to terms with things and accept them on her own, but her recklessness is growing, and I’m running out of patience. She needs a push, and this is my chance to give it to her.
If she manages to use a phone, whether mine or someone else’s, she’ll call Robert. Sawyer told me that the day she got here she was begging a passerby to call her husband. I bet she views him as a big, powerful protector, with all the right connections and enough money to get to her within hours.
I could take the gun. Let her beg me for forgiveness, then comfort her while she cries in my arms. She’ll either be grateful for my mercy or she’ll hate me for stealing her false chance at freedom.
OrI could snuff out her hope once and for all.
I look down and unlock my phone.
“Here.” I hold it out for her. “Make your phone call.”
Her eyes tighten like she suspects I’m up to something. She’s hesitant, taking in the phone like it’s a piece of cheese on a mouse trap. Just like the mouse, she can’t resist. She reaches out and snatches the phone from me.
“Back up,” she commands, her voice deceptively strong.
I hold up my hands and back up several steps. “You can put the gun down. I’m not going to stop you.”
The gun rattles more now that she’s holding it with one hand, so I step out of the line of the barrel, just in case she accidentally pulls the trigger. Her gaze flits between me and the phone as she dials, her eyes not staying trained on me until she presses the phone to her ear.
Lib
I never knewa dial tone could be so loud.
Every time it sounds in my ear, I jump a little, as if I’m surprised it’s there. My heart beats against its cage, and the gun feels slippery in my sweaty embrace.
Mr. A stares at me with an expression far too calm for a man with a gun pointed at him. He looks like he knows something I don’t, making me wonder which one of us has the false confidence.
After the fifth dial tone, the phone picks up, and relief engulfs me.
“Hello?” my husband’s sleepy voice caresses my ear in the softest embrace, and tears spring to my eyes. I’m speechless for several moments as Robert sighs into the phone.
“It’s five A.M. here. Can whatever this is not wait?”
“Robert,” I say, my voice cracking.