Page 12 of Claiming Liberty
“So then you must know that I was drugged and taken to the manor against my will. I didn’t tell them I’d be a good girl right away, so they secured me to a wall and sprayed my face with water until I felt like I was drowning. They starved me. And then, when I finally gave in, they forced me to dance naked on a stage for filthy fucking pigs to look at me like I was athinginstead of a human being. Angel is the only reason I wasn’t raped repeatedly, but now…” I take in a sharp breath. My tone started out cold, but emotion rushes in, and I can feel my composure begin to break. “Nowthey have my niece, and they’re doing worse to her.”
I grab my hoodie and tug it out to show Peter. “Do you see my husband’s brains on me right now? I swear to God, if you call meone of themever again, I will fucking kill you just like I killed Robert. Do you understand me?”
Peter’s image blurs through my angry tears, but I still make out the respect on his face. He pours another shot, tossing me a look before sliding the glass to me.
I will my shaking hands to still before snatching the shot off the table and throwing it back. Tequila. It’s been a while since I’ve had this. Robert always said it gave him headaches.
His image comes into my mind, him on his knees pleading with me. I think of our wedding day next, about the necklace he had sent to my dressing room, my bridesmaids gushing at the hundred-thousand-dollar wedding dress I ruined that same night with a careless spill of champagne. He didn’t yell at me then. Didn’t even chide me. He leaned into my ear, his hand creeping up my thigh as he whispered something I’ll never forget.“You’re worth a thousand of these dresses, my beautiful bride.”
Two years later, he threw a vase of flowers my mother sent for my birthday because I burnt a lasagna one night we had guests over. He said words in my ear that night too, before the guests left.“You’re fucking useless.”
I slam the empty glass on the counter and pour another. The shot hovers in the air when I raise it, toasting my husband one last time.
’Til death do us part, bitch.
I throw back the Tequila, savoring it as it burns my throat and close my eyes, breathing in the horrid stench clinging to me.
“All right,” Peter says, snapping the memory away. I look at him to see him watching me closely, his lips pulled up a hair. “Maybe we’ll have some use for you.”
When his phone goes off, he pulls it from his pocket and peers at the screen, no expression passing over him to indicate what the message is about.
He puts his phone away and takes one last shot before grunting and slamming the glass down. “Duty calls.”
He walks back into the living room with me on his heels. “Where are you going?”
“Spain,” he says, not looking back.
“To get Angel?”
He pauses at the front door and finally turns to me. “No. I’m going to a U2 concert.”
I sigh, exasperated at the sarcasm, and cross my arms over my chest. “What about my niece?”
“I told you, it’s in the works. There’s nothing we can do right now, so just hang tight.”He points to my left. “I have friends a half mile that way. Their names are Layan and Kingsley, and they know you’re coming. His eyes travel up and down my body. “You might want to clean up first. I’m sure Layan will have some clothes you could wear.”
My brows pinch. “Why would I clean up if I’m going to change there anyway?”
He frowns and gestures to the bathroom. “Just trust me on this one.” He opens the front door and looks at me over his shoulder. “Don’t forget to lock up when you leave. I’ll see you soon.”
“Wait!”
His muscles go taught, and he turns, his face a posterboard of annoyance.
“Tell Angel about Jasper,” I say. “Tell him Sawyer sent Jasper to follow us, and that he wants to kill me. If you’re looking for powerful people to turn, Angel—”
“Stop.”
I close my mouth, my face falling.
“Angel Ramos does not give a single fuck about the women on this island.Maybehe would care that Jasper almost killed you, but he wouldn’t believe Sawyer ordered it, and I’d wind up dead for running over their errand boy.” He pauses a moment to let me consider that. “He’s not turning against Sawyer. Forget about it.”
He shuts the door behind him before I can respond, leaving me standing awkwardly in this nothing of a house.
I wish I could say with confidence that Peter is wrong, but I can’t. Angel has been adamant about his loyalty to Sawyer thus far, so I’m not sure how far Angel would be willing to go to cross his best friend. I can’t take a chance on seeking his help with my niece on the line.
Elsie.
Peter wants me to wait a month to get to her. How am I supposed to do that? I see his point about me ruining his plan, about it being useless to try to get to her on my own. I would get caught immediately, I know that, but I can’t just wait here, knowing what could be happening to her.