Page 14 of Claiming Liberty

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Page 14 of Claiming Liberty

I slide a hand across my jaw, rubbing a little too roughly. “Look, I asked you not to tell me because I didn’t want to be tempted to go after her. I swear to God, Peter, if you dropped her off somewhere unsafe and something happened to her—”

“She’s safe, sir. You have my word.”

My hand clenches into a fist, and I lower it to my thigh, turning again to stare out the window. I want to believe him. I want to believe Robert isn’t answering his phone for some other reason that doesn’t have to do with Lib, but my gut turns every time I think about it. Sawyer hasn’t been answering his phone either.

Something is wrong. I can fucking feel it.

I should never have let her go. Not until I knew for certain it was safe, not until she understood the best move was to disappear. I love her. I want her to have her freedom, to live a life far,farfrom here, and I want her to find a happiness she could never have found with me.

But the woman is so goddamn stubborn, I’m terrified she messed it up for herself.

She could’ve gone to the police.

She could’ve gone to Robert.

Sawyer could know.

She could be dead.

“You couldn’t possibly know for certain that she’s safe.” I blow out a deep breath and close my eyes, tabling her location for now. If he’s right, and she is safe, then I genuinely don’t want to know where she is. I know myself... I make a game of practicing self-control, but there’s no force that could stop me from going to her.

“Have you spoken to Sawyer lately?” I ask, breathing through nausea.

“No, sir.”

Fuck.

“Is there something Mr. Hansley needs from me?” he asks, the tiniest bit of emotion in his tone. Probably bitterness. Sawyer uses Peter on occasion, but they do not in the slightest bit get along. I don’t know all the details, but I guess Sawyer wasn’t as up front as he would’ve liked about the island and what all Peter’s job would entail.

My pilot doesn’t agree with my best friend’s handling of things, which is why he works for me instead of Sawyer, but he’s respectful—and smart—enough not to involve me in the drama. He flies me places, gives me his discretion, and in return, I ignore his silent hatred for my brother. It works out. Especially now when I need someone willing to betray a man almost anyone else would fear.

“No. I just haven’t been able to get ahold of him for a couple of days.”

Not since he asked me to come back.

“Ah.”

My forehead creases when I look at him. “So you can imagine why I want more than your reassurance that Liberty is okay. If I knew where she was, I could make sure for myself.”

“She’s safe. I’m sure if Mr. Hansley knew of her location, he would inform you.”

The fuck he would.

“The only way he would be aware that she’s missing is if he sent someone to follow you when you left for Spain. You don’t believe he would’ve done that, do you?”

“Of course not.” I reply immediately, but there’s a hesitation in my mind over whether I believe it. I like to think we have complete trust with each other, but this is too important to chance.

“You didn’t notice anyone following, did you?”

Peter looks in the rearview again, and I spot curiosity in his expression. It’s rare for him to show anything at all.

“I would’ve told you if I had, sir.”

He goes back to the road, and I return my gaze to the window where the morning sun rises, the dock in view. In reality, it doesn’t make much of a difference if Peter tells me where he took Lib or not. I’ll find out soon enough if Sawyer knows about it.

The SUV slows to a stop when we’re almost to the water, and Peter puts it into park. He climbs out, and I follow his lead, walking to the boat while he retrieves my suitcase. I step inside and start the engine while Peter loads the luggage into the boat.

“Hey,” I say when he turns to head for the SUV.




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