Page 88 of Claiming Liberty
ANGEL
Istand in front of the manor, my eyes trailing over the flames pouring out of burst windows.
Bodies dot the grounds, a pile on my left with Chaffer on top. Apparently, he wasn’t as big a part of the plan as he thought.
There’s a row of men standing just in front of me, their guns pointed at the front door in case Sawyer decides to escape through it.
He won’t. As thorough as these people think they’ve been, they don’t know Sawyer. He’s either waiting inside his fireproof safe room or he’s somehow managed to leave already. Even if the ambush surprised him, he was ten steps ahead of these people. He’s ten steps ahead of everyone, including me, at all times. Always.
I consider telling someone this, but instead, I just stare, my eyes dry and my throat burning. He left me to die, so it makes sense that I’d want revenge, but I’m catatonic instead. Lib is supposed to be on a big ship about a half mile out at sea, and I had every intention of heading straight to her, but the sight of the manor has me paralyzed.
It’s mesmerizing … and also a little sad.
Women are free now. The depravity has been stopped, and the world is a better place for it. But I still feel like a piece of me is dying inside that manor. Like the last twelve years of my life were nothing but a tainted blur.
The front door opens, and I suck in a sharp breath, tensing.
No.
To my surprise, it isn’t Sawyer.
I release my breath while staring in confusion as women push past each other out the door, more and more coming through.
I turn to find Peter, the confusion I feel mirrored in his expression, then I turn back to the flood of women.
Peter said they were already out.
What the fuck is going on?
Where’s Lib?
My chest tightens at that thought, more closely scrutinizing the screaming crowd that’s quickly approaching. Searching…
I stride to Peter as he slowly side steps to make room for the surge of women.
“What the fuck is going on?” I growl, only looking at him a moment before looking back at the crowd.
“I… I don’t know.”
“Lib’s not in there, right?” I ask, still not finding her among the others. When he doesn’t immediately answer, I swivel toward him. “You said she was already on the boat. You saw her, right?”
His mouth opens and closes, blood draining from his face.
I grip his collar and yank him toward me. “Did you fucking see her?” I roar, my voice raising as my blood pumps hotter.
He stares at me like he’s in shock, blinking several times before he finally answers. “I didn’t see her, I just assumed…”
My dry eyes widen as I push him away from me, his collar slipping through my fingers. Gripping my hair, I spin and frantically search through the crowd.
“Lib!” I walk past a couple of women crying in each other’s arms. “Liberty!”
My head moves left and right, my tense shoulders growing tauter with the movement. “Lib!” I call again, but as soon as I do, I know I won’t get an answer. There are a lot of women, but not so many that I wouldn’t be able to tell if she was here.
My heart jackhammers against my sternum when I see Elsie running from the manor. Our eyes meet, and I nearly double over at the sorrow written in her expression.
I take off toward the front door, running faster than I probably ever have.
“Where is she?” I yell at Elsie, barely slowing while passing her.