Page 59 of Caging Liberty
When a tear leaks onto her cheek, she brushes it away. Her whole body continues to shake.
I take a step toward her. “Are you okay?”
She slowly lifts her chin up and down, but then she closes her eyes and shakes her head.
I close the distance between us and take her in my arms. I hug her as she cries, her tears wetting my shirt.
“It’s okay,” I say, injecting as much reassurance into my voice as possible. “You’re okay. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”
She lifts her head to meet my eyes. “That’s not true.” She croaks out a sob like her body’s rejecting her words. “Sawyer told me he would. He said as soon as you’re tired of me, he’s going to kill me.”
“He won’t.” I smooth her hair back and tuck it behind her ear. “I’m not going to let him hurt you, I promise.”
“I’m not going to try to run again,” she says, hugging my shirt. “I swear.”
I smile slightly. “I know.”
“I don’t even have anything to run back to anymore.”
“I know that too.”
And I do know. I know her so much better than she thinks. So much more than even Sawyer is aware of.
Her lip quivers like she’s about to start sobbing again, so I take her face in my hands and lower myself so I’m inches away.
“This is going to be okay, Ivy. I promise you. As soon as you quit fighting, it won’t be nearly as bad as you’ve been imagining it.”
She closes her eyes and whispers her next words like she’s afraid of saying them out loud. “I don’t want to die.”
I frown. “I know you don’t. You’re not going to.”
“How can you be so sure? What if Sawyer doesn’t cave tomorrow?”
“Do you thinkIwill?”
She opens her eyes and studies me. I don’t think she’s even taken into consideration what I might do. She’s too terrified of Sawyer, seeing him as this higher power that decides all, just as most of the other inhabitants see him. Which is true, in theory.
“I have an idea,” I say, caressing her cheek. Her skin is so smooth, it makes it easy to forgive the commotion and stress she caused this evening. I’m enjoying this. Her not pulling away. Her seeking safety in my arms.
“If it will make you feel better, why don’t you join our conversation tomorrow? You can tell him everything you’re telling me.”
Her teeth graze her lower lip, and she takes several moments to answer. “Okay.”
“Come on. We can talk more in the living room. If you want.” I take her hand, and she lets me guide her to my living room sofa. She doesn’t seem to register it as she drops down onto the cushions. Her eyes are glossed over, staring into space like she’s deep in thought.
I walk back to the kitchen where I pour each of us two fingers of whiskey. Once back at the couch, I hold a glass out to her which she gingerly takes. I freeze, my own drink inches from my lips when she downs the whiskey in two gulps. Her face twists as it burns her throat, and her lips are still puckered when she sets the empty tumbler on the coffee table.
I sit next to her and go to put my hand on her knee but think better of it, resting it on the back of the couch instead.
“I know you,” she says, not looking at me but peering down to where she fidgets with her hands in her lap.
Finally.
“We met when Robert and I were dating.” She picks at her cuticles. “I didn’t remember until Sawyer said your name.”
I keep my mouth closed because I’m not sure what to say.
“It was at a charity event. It was the first one I ever attended, and I was nervous as hell.”