Page 54 of Caging Liberty

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Page 54 of Caging Liberty

For several seconds he’s silent, and I picture him just as speechless as I was when I first heard his voice.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve questioned my love for him, always believing I deserved better, never appreciating the life he gave me. Not anymore. In this moment, I’ve never loved the man more.

“Liberty?” he asks, sounding rightfully shocked.

A sob bursts from my mouth, and I close my eyes, forgetting for a moment that Mr. A is watching me. I rehearsed this in my mind so many times, and this was never what I imagined. I planned to be calm and collected. Efficient. Waste no time.

“Baby, is that you? Are you okay?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head even though he can’t see me. I struggle to draw in a full breath. “Th-they took me.” I gather what saliva I can in my dry mouth and swallow. Finally, I find my voice. “I’m on a private island, a man named Sawyer has me. I don’t know his last name, but I spoke to him on a chat site. You should be able to track him down through his IP address if you dig into it. H-his username is saltyshells123.”

“Jesus, Liberty,” Robert says. “I’ll call the authorities.”

“Hurry.” My voice splinters again, and I look away when I meet Mr. A’s pity-filled eyes. Pity-filled. Not fear-filled. Not the eyes of a man about to go to prison.

“Don’t worry, honey, help is on the way. I have to hang up now so I can call them.”

“No!” I nearly double over. “Use the office phone. Please don’t hang up.”

“I’ll call you back,” he says, his voice reassuring. “I promise. Just stay put, okay?”

I close my eyes as tears spill but snap them open to focus on Mr. A, gripping the gun tighter.

“Honey?”

“Okay,” I say.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The line dies, and I lower the phone with a shaky hand. I stare at Mr. A while a weird kind of fear paralyzes me.

It’s strange how hope works. When it feels like you have nothing, hope can make you brave. But then when the hope is real, when you see the safety on the horizon and you’re so close to touching it, it’s the most terrifying thing in the world because suddenly, there’s a chance of losing it. Losing everything.

“Why do you look like that?” I ask Mr. A.

He arches a brow. “Look like what?”

“Like I’m the one who should be pitied.” I wash my gaze over him. “You’re about to go to prison for the rest of your life.”

He says nothing. Doesn’t move a muscle or even blink.

“My husband’s going to find me.”

Mr. A slowly nods. “I’m sure he won’t have to look very hard.”

Goosebumps sprout over my arms.

What does that mean?

We stare at each other as a minute goes by and then another. I glance at the phone every few seconds.

“He isn’t going to call you back, Lib.”

Lib.

Not Ivy. Not Liberty. Lib.




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