Page 59 of Claiming Liberty
Angel holds his hand out toward the house. “Thisis what I’m willing to do. I’ll take care of the sadists and bring the women to you. You’ll watch over them until everything is taken care of, and you willnotget in my way.” He steps up to Peter until the barrel is pressed against his chest. There’s so much anger in his stance, it makes me shrink away, but I can’t take my eyes off the gun.
“Angel,” I say, but he ignores me.
“Last night, you killed a hell of a lot of people who didn’t deserve to die,” Angel says to Peter, his lip curling with disgust. “You do more of that and you’re going to get your own people killed. And I swear to God, if you put Liberty in danger, you’ll fucking wish you pulled the trigger when you had the chance.”
“We’ll do what we have to do,” Peter snarls.
Angel shakes his head. “You don’thaveto do anything. I’ll take care of everything that needs taking care of, but on the condition that you stand down, and you keep Liberty safe. Sawyer and the manor are off limits. You step one foot onto manor grounds, and I’ll kill you myself.”
Peter scoffs. “You’re out of your mind. Sawyer Hansley will never stand by while you kill all of his residents.”
“I have a plan,” Angel insists.
“Yeah, and what is that?”
“Tonight, I’m going to Chaffer’s with a box of laced cigars. I’ll be selective about who gets one.”
Angel slowly grips the gun and pushes it away from him. Peter continues to glare but doesn’t stop him.
“You can’t just kill everyone, Peter. That isn’t going to fix anything.”
“Oh, and you’re going to fix everything?” Peter laughs and shoves Angel back. “You built this place.”
A vein pulses in Angel’s neck, and I think for sure he’s going to hit Peter, but his closed fists remain at his sides.
“Just stay out of my way,” he sneers before turning around and heading for the boat, tossing me one last longing look before he goes.
“Ramos!” Peter calls.
Angel keeps walking.
A loud bang roars, and my chest seizes. Everyone stills, the only sound the ricochet of the gunfire and a few birds flapping from the trees.
In the second after my brain thaws of shock, I scan Angel, searching for any signs he’s been shot, then my eyes dart to Peter. The gun is pointed at the sky, but I watch in horror as he lowers it to point at Angel.
“Do you really think I’m going to let you walk away because you got rid of a few pigs?” he asks, his voice ice. When he takes a couple of slow steps toward Angel, even Layan doesn’t react.
This seems … different. Personal.
“We want the same things, Peter,” Angel replies, his spine straight. “I just disagree with how you’re going about it.”
Peter lets out a humorless laugh. “Because you don’t want me to kill your friend.”
Angel doesn’t respond to that. Only stares.
Peter takes another couple of steps closer to Angel. “You know, this whole time you thought I hated Sawyer, and I do. But he’s nothing compared to you. Heknowswhat a snake he is. He lies to everyone, but he doesn’t lie to himself.”
Angel’s face pinches. “What are you talking about? I’m not trying to pretend to be a good person. I’ve done wrong. I know that. Now I’m trying to right it.”
Peter shakes his head. “You can’t,” he says, his voice low.
The gun starts to shake in his grasp, and goosebumps break out over my flesh.
Something’s wrong. This isn’t a normal Peter argument.
I cautiously creep toward them, my eyes glued to the gun.
“Do you remember what I told you about how I came here? How I got tricked into taking this job?”