Liberty Begins (The Liberty Series) (14 page)

“I love you, too,” I whispered, and I felt myself gathering my strength. I did love him, and I knew he was a good man. There was a reason for all of this. There had to be.
“I’m okay
,
” I said. I was; I
still
wanted to get out of here, though. I didn’t want to see anymore or hear anymore. I just wanted to get the medic in here and get myself outside, see the sun, breathe in some fresh air.

He left me then, and I could hear him trying to sit Darius upright. I watched through squinted eyes. Darius moaned a little; John put his arms underneath his armpits and managed to lift him up and right the chair, which he was still tied to, at the same time. Then John stepped back.

Then they just looked at each other, and the silence was deafening.

“You fucker,” Darius finally said. “My people are going to know what you’ve done. They’ll find you. They always do. You
and
your whore,” he spat out, unapologetically, unafraid, like he was a crazy vampire looking straight into the sun. No fear. Just hate. Real hate.

“I’m sorry you felt you had to say that,” John said, resignedly, and he pulled his gun back out and fired, immediately, right into Darius’s other kneecap. I clapped my hands over my ears so I couldn’t hear his wild screams and curses.

“Come with me,” John said, lifting me up by the elbow and carrying me out of the room.

“John, no,” I sobbed, “this is so bad. I can’t take it.”

“It’s not that bad,” John whispered back, pushing through the door into the sunlight, letting the medic rush past him into the room. I briefly noted Matthew’s disapproving glare as we swept past him.

“John!” Matthew called angrily. “What the fuck?”

“Besides,” John said, steering me away from the scene and completely ignoring Matthew,
“it’ll be even harder for him to hide in a wheelchair.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Client

“Well, you warned me. You said I didn’t want to know,” I said. John and I were lying side by side next to the pool, under an umbrella. He’d officially given me the rest of the day off. When we went up to the big house Mr. Quinn took one look at me and ordered me to lay down on the couch. He’d made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and served me a glass of milk.
And
we’d watched ESPN.

“I’m pretty sure I love your dad,” I said to John now, as I took a sip of the iced tea Mr. Quinn had sent out. “Yeah, that's delicious ... I definitely love him.”

“As long as you have enough love left over for me, that’s fine,” John said, twining his fingers through mine. This was the opposite of where we were two hours ago — in a blood spattered room, with me shaking and on the verge of vomiting, and John in ultimate vigilante mode. When he’d taken me out he’d immediately walked me to the ocean, sat me down, and splashed cool water on my face. “It's going to be okay,” he said tenderly, and stroked my cheeks. “I’m so sorry that you had to witness that, but I guess you should know.”

I’d nodded at him, slowly coming back to life with the cool salt water and the fresh air. I looked up at him and tucked a stray, shaggy hair behind his ear. “I still love you,” I’d said, and a smile broke out over his face. “I guess I love you more than I even thought, if we can go through that and I’m still sure.

“Plus, you
are
sort of a badass.”

He grinned then and his eyes lit up; my heart stopped and a shiver went down my spine. Had I had the energy, I probably would have tried to get him to take me to bed, but instead, I let him kiss me, tenderly, and then help me up. He led me to the house, where I took my much needed reprieve on the couch. What I didn’t tell him was that although his badass-ness was appealing, and sort of hot, it was not a long term situation that I could find tenable. He was going to have to find some other sort of day job in the future. My heart couldn’t take much more of any sort of drama. Especially the shooting sort.

About an hour later he came down with a bathing suit on and no shirt; looking at all the clearly defined muscles on his rugged chest very quickly perked me up. I sat up and he handed me a pink plaid string bikini; it was somewhat reminiscent of my stripping outfit. I held it up and looked at him quizzically.

“Remind you of something?” he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I miss that outfit sometimes,” he said, and gave me a dead sexy look.

“Well, if you’re good, and don’t shoot anybody else this afternoon, I’ll wear this and you can pretend,” I said, feeling slightly mortified that I could want him so shortly after what we’d done with Darius.

“Deal,” John said, grabbing me by the hand and leading me towards the downstairs bath. “Now, go change. Let’s go sit by the pool and pretend we’re on vacation.” He grabbed his sunglasses and headed out onto the deck, with his gorgeous, chiseled body, out into the sunlight, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Maybe he really likes shooting people,
I thought, puzzled at his great mood, as I headed into the bathroom to put the bikini on. That didn’t seem right; I didn’t think that he enjoyed hurting Darius. But there was something about what we’d done in that room, something inherently masculine, that he did clearly enjoy. Maybe he liked protecting me, protecting my honor, in some animalistic way. There were some things about men I’d never understood, like why they liked to fight, watch sports (and fighting in sports) and violent movies. I had never understood how people could enjoy boxing, for instance; how they could get into a ring and find elegance in the sport of beating on each other, nor had I ever understood the people who watched and appreciated the sport. There was a similar quality to this, to what I perceived as the pleasure John took in our encounter with Darius. It was something he found pleasant about being so macho, letting his inner animal come out and be free and conquer.

I put on the bikini and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked different. Nothing physically had changed, except for the faint traces of what looked like muscles forming, but still: I
was
different. It was my eyes. Somehow, I looked older. I’d always looked at my own eyes to steady myself. Now they still comforted me, but they weren’t the same. I couldn’t trust them in the same way — they’d changed too much; I’d done too many things recently that I never thought I’d do, felt so many things I’d never thought I could feel. I hadn’t thought I was capable.

Had I betrayed myself?
I wondered. I didn’t think so. I think who I was now was who I was meant to be. But the me from before —
the pre-John me —
had been fooling herself for a long time. I’d underestimated myself. I was so focused on being alone, on being able to rely just on myself, that I’d tricked myself into believing I could stay like that forever. I froze myself, to save myself the pain — the pain of what I didn’t have, the pain of what I’d thought I couldn’t ever have. I hadn’t thought it was possible for me to love someone like I loved John.

Actually, that’s not true, Liberty,
my inner voice said.
You loved your mother like that. You were just as loyal.
That was true, but what was I thinking? Did I think John was as troubled as my mother? Because if I did, I shouldn’t be here.
He’s not the same,
the voice said, and I knew it was true.
You can trust him. He’s not a lost cause….yet.

What
is
the same is you, and your ability to love someone —
your loyalty.

I stood up taller and squared my shoulders at that. I put on the bikini and now even my body looked different to me; it was new territory. I had never thought of it as beautiful or wondrous or magical before, but being with John had unlocked my body’s secrets. Now as I tied on the top and looked at my breasts, my belly, I thought of how John looked at me, how full of love and awe he was. I hugged my smooth skin, thinking of him like that.
Thank you
, I thought, sending my gratitude and love out towards the pool. I was in his debt, even further: he’d help me unlock the power within me to see myself this way.

I had some other things I needed to think about, pressing things: what we were going to do with Ray when and if we found him, who the client actually was, what was going to happen to me and John after we were done. Fear, cold and bubbly, rumbled in my stomach at the thought of
after.
Frankly, it should have been the other things that frightened me, but that fear was pale in comparison to the blinding white fear I had of us going our separate ways.
What am I going to do?
I wondered, and it was like asking a question in an empty, locked room. It made me feel hollow, and there was no one but myself to answer.

The thing was, I already knew the answer. I just couldn’t bear to think about it right now.

Let’s take an hour off from meditations on violence and anticipated heartbreak,
my inner voice suggested, and I couldn’t agree with her more. I was going to drive myself absolutely crazy. I shook my head to clear it from all these thoughts and followed John’s path out into the sunshine.

* * *

“Let’s stay up here tonight,” John said, later, while we were watching the sun set from the pool.

I nodded. “We can have dinner with your dad and watch a movie,” I suggested. Ian seemed like he would enjoy some family time. It seemed like he was on his own in the big house a lot.

“Are you sure?” John asked, but he sounded pleased. “You don’t mind?”

“Are you kidding?” I asked, and splashed water at him. “I already told you I love your dad. I’d much rather hang out with him than run around engaging in violent behavior with a bunch of bounty hunters.”

He went underwater and swam over to me. He grabbed me round the waist and then popped up, throwing me over his shoulder. I screamed in delight and he went lower into the water, swimming, dragging me with him. “You don’t want to be my prisoner,” he said.

“For real,” I said, and he smacked my bottom. Hard. “Ouch!” I squealed, and he went under again, taking me with him, and then released me. When we came up he kissed me, suddenly serious now, and stroked my hair.

“I could never hurt you,” he said, tenderly. “I don’t know how anybody ever could.” I leaned up and kissed him then, full on the mouth, and I could feel him getting hard through his swim trunks.

“Oh no,” I said, in as playful a tone as I could manage, and pushed him back. The truth was, I wanted him badly, but there was also a lump in my throat. When he was tender with me like that, it made me feel so safe and protected, I wanted to cry. I was starting to think of it as The Fairytale Effect. I had to avoid that feeling; eventually it would make me weep, throw myself at John’s feet, and beg him to never leave me, bounty hunter or not.

Plus, we couldn’t have sex in the pool while his father was rattling around the house. “Maybe later,” I said, taking his hands, “after your dad’s gone to bed.”

“It’s a date,” John said, leading me out of the pool and into a fluffy towel. “Now, let’s order some pizza.”

“And pick a movie,” I said. I was suddenly, overwhelmingly, ridiculously excited to have such a domestic night with him. We both smiled at each other. He seemed pleased, too, and it warmed my insides. “I’ll go down to the barracks and grab some pajamas and my toothbrush. Do you need anything?”

“Just you,” he said. “And let me guess:
cheese
pizza? Am I right?”

“Consistently,” I said, and kissed him on the nose. I threw my clothes on over my damp bathing suit and headed out through the gate, across the lawn towards my room. It was twilight, again, not yet time for the magic of the lightning bugs, but time for the sky to be changing from pink to purple to the most beautiful color of blue that nature could make. I took in a deep breath, trying to memorize the way the sky looked and the feel of my happy, contented heart.

“Whoa,” said Matthew, as I headed to the door as he was coming out. “You’re practically
skipping
. Not how I expected to find you after this afternoon.”

“I’m making myself live in the moment,” I said to him, wryly. Then I exhaled. “This afternoon sucked,” I admitted. “Is Darius okay — I mean, is he relatively okay?”

“He’s fine,” Matthew said, shaking his head. “He’s in a wheelchair, but he’s just as evil as ever.”

“You seemed really upset before, when I went in there with John. Are you okay?” I asked. I didn’t want him to be in trouble with John. They seemed to be friends, not just coworkers, and I didn’t want Matthew being overprotective of me, too. John clearly had that angle covered.

“I just didn’t want you seeing that,” Matthew said, still shaking his head. He looked up, off into the distance. “I know how John feels about you, and I know he wants you to understand what we do. That’s probably because of your situation with Ray.

“But I just thought he was making a mistake. I couldn’t imagine bringing my wife in with me on a job like this. I didn’t want you to be so upset, see something so horrible. You’re just a kid. An innocent kid.”

“John wants to be honest with me,” I said. “He wants me to know what it is exactly that he does. And then judge him for myself.”

“He’s a brave dude,” Matthew said. “I admire him for it.”

“I admire him, too,” I said, “even though what happened in there was awful.” I shivered. “I don’t know if I can handle that happening with Ray.”

“So tell him, Liberty,” Matthew said. “You tell him what you want. There isn’t anything more important to him than that. I’ve known John a long time, and I’m completely sure that all he wants is what’s best for you.”

I stood there for a moment, taking this in. Something had been bothering me, something I thought he could help me with, but I’d been too afraid to ask.

“Does he ever talk to you about his daughter?” I asked, biting my lip. I figured since we were being honest, I would ask about Catherine. I was hoping Matthew could tell me something I didn’t know, and that something would help me find a way to help John. This was really the thing that mattered the most to him. Maybe once he moved past it, he would be able to start over, to leave this kind of life. I still hadn’t thought of another way to help him deal with it.

“He has,” Matthew said, looking slightly uncomfortable. “He hasn’t talked about her in a long time. I know he still keeps up with his contacts in Mexico, though. They lost her in Cabo.
I think he probably is always going to be looking for her. I know I would be.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “You go on and get your stuff and get back up to the big house,” Matthew said. “Otherwise John is going to come looking for you and I’m going to be in even more trouble than I already am.”

I waved goodbye and went in and got a pair of pink pajamas that John had given me, deeming them decent enough to wear in front of his dad. I also packed workout clothes for tomorrow, my toothbrush and some face wash. I changed out of my wet bikini, put it carefully in a plastic bag and then put on capri leggings and a slouchy, soft tee shirt that John had also given me. Lastly, I grabbed one of the books he’d brought. I hadn’t had any time to read since I’d been here, but in case they wanted to watch a movie I couldn’t get into, I could still sit on the couch with them and not be bored.