Page 27 of Claiming Liberty

My cheeks heat, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking away.

He extends his hand toward me. “Monty Chaffer.”

My tense jaw goes slack, and I quickly shut my mouth.

Thisis Monty Chaffer?Heis the man whose attention I just drew to myself?

Oh, fuck.

I weakly shake his hand before he pulls away to brush my cheek, making me wince as the cut on my face stings. “What happened here?”

“Just an accident,” I say, my voice noticeably nervous now. I can feel Kingsley panicking beside me, and I absorb that too.

“Hmm. I like to have accidents with my slaves sometimes too.” He smiles like we’re sharing a secret, and I shudder. “If it makes you feel better, you’re still very pretty.” He moves his hand to my shoulder and squeezes. “Verypretty.”

My stomach turns as he pushes back my hair and explores the bruise on my neck.

“We should probably get going soon,” Kingsley says to me, leaning close enough that our shoulders brush. “We don’t have a lot of time before your master wants you back.”

Chaffer slowly pulls his hand away and takes a step back before he turns to Kingsley and gestures at the ceiling. “Feel free to use one of the upstairs bedrooms. There are plenty unoccupied.”

Kingsley nods. “Thank you, sir.” He puts a hand on my back and ushers me forward about ten steps before I dig my heels into the carpet and gasp at the people walking into the room.

There are five of them. Three men and two women. They stumble more than walk, and it’s hard to immediately discern who is with who with the way the group hangs on each other, clearly intoxicated.

At the back of the group, with her eyes barely open and her head on a man’s shoulder, is Naomi.

She smiles and blinks slowly, her feet dragging like she’s forgotten they’re there.

I’m frozen in place as they get closer, my eyes locking onto the white powder underneath Naomi’s nose.

Shit.

She’s so slow that the man whose shoulder she’s leaning on pulls her around to face him and lifts her by her ass. He kisses her, almost falling over, and she kisses him back with so much bliss, I think I must be imagining it.

“April,” I say, unable to help myself.

She opens her eyes and looks my way, her lips slowing when she sees me. I don’t know what I expected to see on her face when we met again. Relief maybe. Hope. Happiness. But certainly not shame.

She turns away from me as they move past us with no attempt on her part to stop.

“Do you want to stay?” Kingsley asks me.

I don’t answer. I’m too stunned to speak or move, but it doesn’t matter. The choice was never mine anyway.

Peter walks through the door, his eyes blazing with fiery rage. He storms up to us, takes my arm, and drags me from the room. I look back at the door while he yanks me with him, Kingsley apologizing profusely beside him.

He doesn’t say a word until we’re all in his boat, and even then, it’s only to snap at Kingsley to start it up.

I stare at Chaffer’s mansion as we pull away, only blinking when my eyes sting.

She’s doing drugs.

We haven’t spoken about her struggles with addiction, but I remember Sawyer pointing them out to her when she came here. He claimed to be ‘helping her’ stay sober.

Now they’re feeding the demon.

Fuck.