Page 56 of Caging Liberty

When Mr. A goes to take the gun, I jump back a step and lift it, pointing the barrel at his chest.

He raises his hands. “Come on, Lib. They’re almost here. You need to give me the gun.”

“Fuck them,” I say, my gravelly voice barely above a whisper. I turn the gun toward the door, ready to fire at the first person to come through.

I’m not quite numb, but I feel like I’m underwater. I can feel the heartbreak, the betrayal, the agony, but it doesn’t quite settle inside me. It’s a force on the outside, suffocating me until I can’t think straight. I can’t make sense of anything.

He knew.

Heknew.

Not just that...

Hegave me away. Didn’t he?

No.

No fucking way.

No fucking way is this my life.

“Hey, look at me,” Mr. A says.

I move my eyes to him, shattering even more at the sympathy he so clearly displays on his face. Sobs erupt from my chest, and his mouth contorts into a frown.

“I know,” he tenderly says, as if he could possibly even fathom what I’m going through. “But it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Something about the way he says this takes a sledgehammer to my already decimated pieces. I still can’t process things. I can’t figure this out right now.

Men arrive at the door, and Mr. A steps in front of me, shielding me from their view. “Let me help you.” He reaches for the gun again.

I stare at his hand, watching numbly as it grasps the gun. I don’t know how he can help me. I don’t know how he can make things okay.

But I let go anyway.

He opens a kitchen drawer, tosses the gun inside, slams the drawer closed, then opens his arms for me.

Men file in through the door, guns drawn, and I press myself into Mr. A’s chest, seeking sanctuary in his embrace.

Sawyer’s voice is the first that I hear.

“What thefuckis going on?”

16

Angel

Ithrow a look over my shoulder and meet Sawyer’s eyes when his angry voice hits my back. I try to turn, but Lib latches onto me so tightly, I’d be dragging her if I did move. Her face is buried in my chest, her entire body trembling.

“It’s okay,” I coo, petting her head.

I go to turn again, and she inches with me this time, her feet shuffling almost comically on the tile.

When I meet Sawyer’s eyes again, his anger is evident, his upper lip curled back and his eyes blazing. “She got ahold of your cell phone,” he sneers, as if I don’t already know. “Why are you coddling her?”

I skim over the three men with him, all with their guns still drawn.

All this for a 120 pound woman.