Page 64 of Claiming Liberty

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Page 64 of Claiming Liberty

This is Lib. She isn’t idle, and she isn’t a damsel. She’s brave, fierce, and as much as I want to keep her locked up safe and sound…

She can’t be caged. Or tamed… I’ve already tried to do both.

“Okay.” I nod reluctantly. My eyes move to the closet, and I sigh before pointing to a red, spaghetti strap dress.

“Go with red… It suits you.”

15

LIBERTY

“Idon’t want you by yourself,” Angel tells me, his voice higher pitched than normal. Our fingers are interlocked as we walk past the obnoxious flames, and Angel’s hand squeezes hard enough that I pull away.

When I shake my hand at my side, Angel glances at it, then my face. “Sorry.”

“Ineedto be alone. Both of us do. I’m supposed to be Peter’s slave, so if we’re seen together, it’ll only call attention to you.” I roll my shoulders back and lift my chin as we approach, mentally preparing myself to go inside. “Plus, I have my own stuff to do.”

“What?” Angel grabs my arm to stop me. I look down the walkway to check if anyone’s there, and Angel does the same. It’s only us out here, but he leads me away from the door anyway, settling on a shadowed spot beside the bushes.

“All we’re doing here is dropping off cigars.” He pats his suit jacket where the bundle of paper-wrapped cigars hides. They’re laced with something that’s supposed to cause a slow death, twenty-four hours after exposure, so no one will know what happened.

“Right.” I try to make my tone light. Innocent. As if I haven’t been purposefully keeping my intentions from him.

Angel’s hold on my arm tightens as he inches closer, towering over me. “You’re not going to do anything that could come off as suspicious. If Chaffer finds out we had something to do with this—”

“I won’t be suspicious.”

“Lib.”

“Hope,” I correct. “Remember?”

Angel presses his palms against his eyes and lets out a half sigh half groan, his head hanging. I take his hands and link our fingers before pressing myself into him and rising up on my toes to kiss his scowling lips.

He tenses, probably surprised at the contact, but after a moment he leans into it. His mouth tastes good, like whiskey. I’ve never been too fond of the drink, but now I savor it, my eyes closed and head feeling suddenly heavy.

I pull back abruptly before I can relax all the way into him. We have work to do.

Angel is just as good at convincing me of things as I am at convincing him, but there’s no way I’m letting him talk me into going back to the boat. And if I told him what I really have planned, the whole reason I wanted him to bring me here, he would absolutely insist I go back to the boat.

Our fingers break apart, and I put my hands on either side of his head. “It’s gonna be fine,” I assure him. “I promise. I know what I’m doing. I’ll blend in fine.”

“Whatareyou doing?”

I take a deep breath and prepare to lie to him, telling myself it’s the last time. We should be so far past the lies now, but they keep happening. It’s what we do best.

I shouldn’t have argued with him about staying together. I should’ve let him lead me inside, then broke away from him the second I had the chance. But that just sounded … cruel. He only worries because he cares about me.

Regardless, I won’t be talked out of this.

“I want to take a mental inventory of the women in there and who their masters are. Find the ones who have bruises and such and make sure we’ll remember them if their masters don’t smoke a cigar tonight. That way we can get rid of those guys next.”

His eyes narrow, and he looks to his right as he considers this.

“Thatisour goal, right?” I ask, playing in to his earlier understanding with Peter. “To get rid of the sadists? It seems illogical to think they would all die or move because of Sawyer and Chaffer, so if we want to be thorough—”

“Fine.” Angel cocks his head. His fingers drum on his thighs. “But you won’t draw attention to yourself.”

“I will not draw attention to myself.”




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