Loving Liberty

by Belinda Boring

  “Stop your screaming or I’ll make sure your sister gets this same treatment.” His threat instantly silenced me. It didn’t matter how Erica acted, or how cruel she was, I would never wish this on her, knowing she was about to commit to him as his wife. “I knew I could get you to obey.” His sadistic grin sickened me.

  He’d managed to expose my bra and I struggled against him as he groped me. “You won’t get away with this. Oliver will kill you.”

  “Why do you think I want you so badly? Why should he be the only one who gets to enjoy you? Besides, you were mine, first.” His hand lowered as his fingers began tugging at the elastic waistband of my sweats. Revulsion filled me when his fingers skimmed my hipbone.

  I began screaming again, bucking against him, needing to throw him off me. Andrew budged slightly, but not enough for me to ram my knee into his groin. He’d kept it well guarded the whole time. It didn’t matter what he did or who he threatened, there was no way I was going to let him rape me.

  The hand that had been trying to pull down my panties now gripped my throat. “Shut . . .” He slammed my head back into the ground. “Up.” My vision blurred the third time.

  One of my arms freed and I scratched at his face, leaving a bloody gash under his eye. I tried screaming again, but Andrew applied more pressure to my throat.

  Terror consumed me. He was going to strangle me unconscious if I couldn’t find a way to stop him. He’d overpowered me and my window of opportunity was rapidly closing.

  “Still fighting?” he crooned, viciously.

  Not able to speak, I glared back at him. I was determined to make this as hard for him as possible. Pushing against the restraining weight on my wrist, I kicked out with my leg.

  Even with the strength of my pumping adrenaline, there was no way I could have kicked Andrew hard enough for him to release me and fly across the room. With everything that was happening, I hadn’t heard Oliver enter the apartment or his furious yelling as he ripped Andrew away from me.

  “I told you if you ever touched her again, I’d kill you!” he roared, bending over to grab Andrew by the shirt before slamming down hard with a punch strong enough to almost shatter his jaw. “You didn’t believe me?” Oliver cocked back his fist and threw another strike.

  Already bloodied, Andrew started laughing. “What? Jealous that someone else was going to get there before you?” He pushed against Oliver and slowly stood, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. “I told you what I wanted to do to her.”

  “You sick mother fu . . .” The rest of the insult was lost as Oliver threw himself at Andrew, knocking him over. Wrestling on the ground, their large bodies bounced off the couch, knocking into the table and toppling it over on the carpet. I’d never seen Oliver this mad, the words flying out of his mouth enough to make even a sailor blush.

  Andrew may have easily overpowered me, but he was no match for the very angry Oliver. Within moments, Oliver straddled my attacker and rained down another brutal assault. After the fourth punch, Andrew stopped resisting, his body slackening as he went quiet.

  “You didn’t really kill him?” I whispered, fear for Oliver now replacing the terror I felt for myself.

  Oliver remained where he was, his chest heaving as he dragged deep breaths into his lungs. His hands were still clenched tightly by his side and I knew he was trying to re-harness his fury. When he finally lifted himself off Andrew, he appeared hesitant to look at me.

  “He’s just unconscious.” He wiped his hands over his jeans, staring down at the now still body.

  “Why won’t you look at me?” I asked. Coming up behind him, I rested my hand on his shoulder.

  He spun around, crushing me to his body. “Because I didn’t want you to see me still so enraged. He was trying to . . . he would’ve . . . when I think of what he was going to do if I hadn’t arrived just in time. He’s lucky to still be breathing.” Oliver’s body shook violently against mine. I was trembling from shock, him from the strength it took not to finish the job.

  “So it’s not because he . . .” Once again, he didn’t let me finish.

  “Never!” Oliver held me at arm’s length, his gaze feasting on my face, needing to lock contact with my eyes. “Never, Liberty.” He shook his head, and the anger I’d just seen was replaced with concern and sorrow. “How badly did he hurt you?”

  He wasn’t content in accepting my brief explanation of what had happened. Gingerly, he brushed his fingers over my cheekbones, my face throbbing under his careful touch. “Ouch.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s going to bruise.” Lifting up my wrists, he kissed them softly with his lips. “Same as these.”

  “It’ll fade,” I whispered. Inwardly, I cringed at the excuses I so readily spoke.

  “That’s not the point. You shouldn’t have them to begin with. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.” Tears filled his eyes as he voiced his grief.

  “You were here when it mattered. That’s all that counts.” He gently gathered me in his arms, his hand creating a comforting circular pattern on my back as the shock started wearing off. “I tried to fight . . . stop him.” My voice cracked. Now the threat was over, there was nothing to keep me from falling apart.

  “You did amazing, Liberty. Never doubt it. You fought. You were brave. And now you’re safe.”

  “I was so scared,” I confessed.

  “I know, and I’m sorry you ever had to experience something like this.”

  “What are we going to do about Andrew?” I still refused to look at him, choosing instead to snuggle closer to Oliver. With my arms around his waist, his presence was slowly starting to calm the turmoil this had fired up.

  “I’m sure we could find somewhere to dump the body,” Oliver offered, his attempt at humor earning a small laugh from me.

  “I’m being serious.” I sighed.

  “So am I.” There was a low growl in his reply. “We need to call the police and let them deal with him.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. “Go pack an overnight bag so when they come, I can get you out of here.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. My days were already numbered in the apartment. There was no way I wanted to stay any longer than I had to. Hearing Oliver start giving the dispatcher information, I entered my bedroom, grabbing whatever was within arms-reach and stuffing it into a bag.

  With the call made, we sat quietly in my room for the police to arrive. Andrew still hadn’t stirred—a good thing because it kept Oliver from continuing the beating. I knew he was still considering it by the way his eyes darted toward the door every few minutes.

  It was a relief when we heard a knock, followed by the police announcing themselves. Oliver let them in, ushering a female office in moments later to talk with me. The young woman crouched down before me, her elbows resting on her knees as she asked me if I was okay and to tell her what happened.

  Taking in a deep breath, I slowly began to speak, retelling the nightmarish events in a detached voice. When she attempted to comfort me, the smile I gave her felt hollow. I knew she was just doing her job, but all I wanted—needed—was for this to all be over.

  I wanted everything to be finished, this entire chapter of my life.

  Climbing onto the back of Oliver’s bike when the police finally left, Andrew once again conscious, handcuffed, and declaring his innocence, I dug down deep for that newly discovered strength.

  “Ready?” Oliver asked, concerned.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  Come hell or high water, I was beyond ready.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Rolling over in Oliver’s bed, I stretched out my body, waking from the best night’s sleep I’d had in a long time. The blankets still nestled around me, cocooning me in warmth, provided the last few moments of protection before I got up.

  Oliver was nowhere to be seen. When he’d brought me to the place he shared with Blake in the U District, he’d adamantly stated I should take his bed. I’d been so caugh
t up in looking around their small apartment, it wasn’t until he started laying out blankets and pillows on the couch that I’d realized what was going on.

  It’d taken some convincing, but I told him there was no way I was going to spend the night alone and that his bed was plenty big for us both. He tried arguing that he’d sleep on the floor, but he lost that discussion, too. I knew he was being honorable, not wanting me to think more would be expected. Once I told him sex was the last thing on my mind and what I really needed was comfort, he snuggled up beside me.

  We lay there for hours with his arms encircled about me, my head resting on his chest as his hand brushed over my shoulder. At first the silence was soothing, the air still and filled with Oliver’s scent. I never really understood how smells could relax people, but surrounded by all things Oliver, peace began breaching the horror of the day. It enveloped me in security, telling me it was okay to lower my guard.

  Slowly, we began talking. Not about anything too important or what had just happened, but childhood stories, hopes and dreams, things that caused us to laugh. Oliver spoke the most, his soft whispers causing his chest to rumble beneath my cheek. Somehow he knew exactly what to say so my muscles released their tension, and I found myself getting sleepy. With each tale he shared, his fingers brushed over my skin, casting a spell. When I finally couldn’t keep my eyes open, I knew everything would be okay.

  Oliver kept an attentive vigil; holding me closer when I cried and rocking me gently back to sleep. It didn’t matter what I told myself when I was awake, Andrew haunted me in my dreams. Each time I was startled awake, Oliver was there when I reached for him. There was no hesitation—he became the lifeline that helped me through the night.

  A tentative smile played over my lips as I lay quietly remembering his calming words. Over and over, Oliver reminded me of the future that lay ahead, ready for me to choose and see where it would lead. He spoke about the different possibilities and all the plans he had for the two of us. The terror would quickly subside as I listened to his low voice fill the room.

  It sounded like everyone was awake now, motivating me to get up and change out of my pajamas. The moment I opened the door, I could hear Molly talking to Oliver.

  “Can I go see if she’s up?” She was clearly impatient.

  “Let her sleep. She tossed and turned a lot. Liberty will come out when she’s ready,” Oliver answered, with a slight chuckle.

  “Baby, I know you’re worried but asking every five minutes isn’t going to wake her up faster.” Blake joined in.

  “I know. I just need to see for myself that she’s okay.”

  “You will. Let me finish making breakfast and, if she’s still asleep, I’ll think about waking her,” Oliver replied.

  “I’m awake,” I interrupted, having followed the conversation into the kitchen. Oliver was standing by the stove, a spatula in his hand, the smell of bacon wafting toward me. Molly was sitting on Blake’s lap, the small dining table set and waiting for the food to finish cooking. The second she saw me, she jumped up and rushed over.

  “Oh my gosh, Liberty!” I almost toppled over as she launched herself at me, hugging me tightly. “Oliver told us what happened!”

  I patted her back gently, returning her embrace as she talked a million miles an hour in my ear. Molly was clearly upset over Andrew’s attack and the more she ranted, the more descriptive her plots about hurting him became. When she finally let me go and took a deep breath, tears were streaking down her cheeks.

  “I forbid you to ever go back there, again,” she stated, looking over at Blake and Oliver for support. “Look what he did to her!” For a second I was confused, until I realized she meant my bruises. “Forget you two, I want to kill him!”

  “Won’t hear any argument from me,” Blake added, chewing on a piece of bacon he’d stolen.

  “I don’t know,” Oliver added, leaning against the counter with his arms folded. “I’d like another shot at teaching that scum bag some manners.” He grinned at Blake, who nodded in agreement.

  “Yeah, we could tag team the bastard.” Blake stood up and high fived Oliver before returning to his seat. “Give him a taste of his own medicine.”

  I stood there with my mouth open, glancing between the three of them. I’d never received such a reception; the strength of their friendship and love more than a little overwhelming. There was no doubt they cared and that the depth of their concern was genuine. I couldn’t help it. I pinched myself to see if I was dreaming.

  “Morning.” I smiled shyly, giving a tiny wave hello. With everyone’s focus on me, I tried not to squirm, needing a way to change the subject. “Am I late for breakfast?”

  Oliver’s smile overshadowed everything in the room. Pushing off the counter, he was in front of me within seconds and, without warning, encircled my waist with his arm, dragging me to him. I don’t know what happened first: his hand brushing through my hair so he could hold my head, careful to avoid my bruises, or his lips crashing down on mine in a kiss that instantly stole my breath.

  I forgot we had an audience, enjoying the intense feelings storming my body. Oliver knew exactly how to touch me, those gentle caresses that sent shivers rippling over my skin before toppling me over with longing. My mother would’ve complained that he was highly inappropriate for kissing me this passionately in the kitchen. I didn’t care. I looked forward to being with him this way wherever and whenever we wanted.

  “Seems Liberty’s getting something extra for breakfast.” When Oliver ignored him, instead holding me tighter, Blake chuckled loudly as he clapped his hands. “Dude, some of us still need to eat, though.”

  “Leave them alone, spoilsport,” Molly teased.

  “Gladly, but if Oliver doesn’t ease up, he’s going to embarrass Liberty her first morning here. Besides, the bacon is burning.” Blake grumbled in response.

  “Then get up and take care of it,” Oliver retorted, our kiss now over.

  “And rob you of your chance to show what an alpha male you are?” Blake laughed, winking at me. “He’s quite the catch, Oliver is. He cooks, he cleans . . .”

  “I also have a mean right arm, bro.” With quick reflexes, Oliver swiped the discarded dishtowel and tossed it Blake’s head. Easily deflecting it, Blake smirked, throwing it back. “Just be grateful it wasn’t something heavier.”

  “Enough, you’re scaring Liberty,” Molly scolded. “Come sit over at the table. I promise they’ll behave now.”

  “Yes, Mom!” Oliver and Blake chimed in together, wide grins on their faces.

  “You know that sounds gross coming from your mouth, right?” Molly raised her eyebrows at her boyfriend, shaking her head. “I’d rethink that last comment.”

  Oliver bust out laughing only to cuss under his breath when the bacon spat at him. “Someone’s in trouble.”

  “She loves me. It’s all about my charm.” Proving his point, Blake scooped Molly off her chair and plopped her down on his lap. “Isn’t that right, babe?” Nuzzling into her neck, he reduced to her a fit of giggles before she slapped him.

  “We’re not setting a good example for Liberty. Quit goofing around. Both of you.”

  “It’s okay,” I spoke up. “You guys are amazing. This never would’ve happened at my house.”

  “What talking?” Blake asked.

  “Fun,” I admitted.

  Oliver smiled as he brought over plates of food. “Well, this is what you can expect from now on, Sweetheart. You’re one of us, now.”

  “Hear, hear!” Molly exclaimed.

  “Welcome to the club, Liberty,” Blake added, already scooping eggs onto his plate. “Some of the members are crazy, but at least the food is edible.”

  This time Oliver was close enough to slap the back of his best friend’s head. “Keep this up, bro. We can always have cold cereal.” A look of horror filled Blake’s face, causing us all to break out into laughter. “That’s what I thought. Now shut up and eat.”

  This is exactly what a f
amily should be like, I mused, watching as everyone began helping themselves to the different items. Spooning a little bit of egg and taking two strips of bacon, Oliver grabbed my glass and filled it with orange juice.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled around my first mouthful.

  “You’re welcome. I hope I didn’t wake you up this morning. I tried to be quiet when I got up.”

  “Nope, I slept really well. Better than I expected,” I replied.

  Oliver leaned in and lowered his voice. “Good. You had me worried; but around three this morning, you stopped tossing and turning.”

  “Did you get any sleep?” Even though having him there had been a Godsend, I knew I’d disrupted his evening.

  “I got enough.” He smiled, taking a sip from his glass.

  “So, what’s the plan for today?” Blake asked, looking at Oliver and me. “I’m not working so if you need me, I’m at your disposal.”

  “Me, too,” Molly added, tucking stray hair behind her ear.

  “Umm,” I didn’t know what to say. The idea of returning to the apartment filled me with dread and that was just the start of things I needed to do. I hadn’t even figured out where I was going to live or what I’d do for money. Oliver must’ve sensed the instant panic attack because he took hold of my hand, kissing it.

  “First things first. Liberty needs to get whatever’s important from her place, so she never has to go back. Right?” Just like that, he’d stopped my brain from exploding and given me somewhere to start. He hadn’t taken over, either. Buttering some toast, he took a large bite and waited for me to continue.

  “Right. All I really want from there is some clothes and my treasure box. Everything else belongs to my parents,” I confessed. I’d realized that fact, the night of my meltdown. Even though I’d bought a lot of the signature pieces, each one still reflected my mother’s tastes. The pride I’d felt in being an individual came crashing down around me. There was nothing I wanted to keep. All of it was a reminder.