Liberty

by Kirsty Dallas

  My vision kept wavering and blurring, my head pounding as though it might split in two at any moment. A knife wound to my shoulder bleed freely and ribs burned with each breath of air I tried to suck in or expel. Somehow, I remained upright though, watching as Gracie moved reluctantly toward the asshole who called himself Jebediah.

  She wasn’t supposed to be here, she was meant to be at the caves we’d agreed on as a rendezvous point if shit ever did hit the fan. Trigger was supposed to get her and Skye out, and considering Skye was nowhere to be seen, I assumed she followed Trigger’s orders, unlike Gracie. It didn’t really surprise me, she was loyal to a fault and loved the people within Liberty. She’d never abandon them, and she’d never abandon me regardless of the wall I’d built between us. I wasn’t a good man, but destroying our friendship had been an asshole move of epic proportions and my one true regret.

  “What a pretty little bird,” Jebediah murmured as Gracie approached.

  She stopped just outside his reach, her body positioned closer to me.

  “Gimme, gimme, gimme,” he repeated, wiggling his hands in a come-hither motion.

  With slow and deliberate movements, Gracie lifted her gun, and Jebediah stepped forward to take it. He made sure to touch Gracie as he did, and I didn’t miss the shudder she tried so hard to conceal. She also didn’t step away from him like I knew she wanted to. With stiff shoulders, my proud girl showed this asshole how strong she really was, that she wouldn’t cower. She was facing her enemy and showing no fear. I knew inside she would be quaking with it, her kind, gentle soul, totally inexperienced against this kind of darkness. Jebediah didn’t move away from Gracie, his meticulous scrutiny of her chipping away at my protective instincts.

  “What do you want, Jebediah?” I asked, keeping my voice casual. Jebediah’s focus didn’t leave Gracie like I’d hoped it would.

  “What do I want?” he answered thoughtfully, dragging each word out.

  His hand reached out and gripped Gracie’s hip. This time she didn’t hide her fear, her fists clenching as Jebediah stepped into her body. I snapped to attention, my muscles tighter than a taut rubber band, ready to leap into action. I hated his hands on her, I detested her fear. It drove the adrenaline in my body higher and higher as his hand snaked down her thigh. When he gave her flesh a squeeze, I saw red. With a grunt I tried to push to my feet, but as expected, I was immediately kicked to the ground by a booted foot. Jebediah laughed and when I glanced back up to where he stood he’d taken a step away from Grace, the knife she wore in her thigh harness now in his hand and an amused look on his face.

  “You don’t like me touching your little bird, Ink?” Tension burned through my body as Jebediah turned to give me his full attention. “According to my source, she’s the only one you won’t touch, and you’re not usually fussy about pussy.” He began to laugh, a manic, high pitched crow that sounded completely insane. “Word is, you even fucked ol’ Viv over there.” He pointed to Viviane’s unmoving body hanging from the flagpole where our own rebel flag normally hung proudly.

  I squeezed my eyes shut to block the view of her beaten and bloodied body. I’d never slept with Viviane, but she hadn’t been shy with her feelings for me. People gossiped, and assumed, but they were wrong. Seeing her ravaged, bloodied body made me feel physically ill.

  “She’d have to be fifty. That’s just sick man,” the crazy pale freak shouted, and my gaze returned to him. There was no point trying to defend myself from his bullshit accusations, they weren’t important. “But…” Jebediah went on, pausing in a way I thought he enjoyed, his words all a game, “… you haven’t fucked the little bird here. My men can’t understand why, she’s a tight little package. Nice lips for sucking…” he drew back a sharp breath as if thinking about Gracie’s lips on his body, “… pale skin that would mark so beautifully. Perfect tits for a man’s hands.” His hands reached out but stopped short of touching her, his palms cupping into a squeezing motion. “Damn,” he snapped, his fingers whipping through his white hair and tugging at the ends, a move that seemed full of frustration.

  The way he spoke about Gracie’s body made my anger burn. He was talking about her as if she were some whore, a thing to be played with, a fucking toy. She was anything but. Grace was all innocence, a rose amongst thorns. She’d been my responsibility since she was twelve-years-old, our relationship one of a brother and sister. Over the last year though, my feelings toward her had changed, twisting and transforming into something I was deeply ashamed of. One day I’d been looking at the little girl I’d become so attached to, and the next I was noticing her soft, enticing curves. A week later it was her lips that had me mesmerized, full and soft, with a radiant smile that seemed a whole lot more seductive. Not to mention her husky voice that suddenly made my dick hard. I was looking at Gracie like a man might look at a woman, and it sickened me. I’d promptly distanced myself from her which might as well have been a dagger to my chest. I missed her laugh. I missed her crazy fucking hair styles, I missed her spontaneous love for life. I just… missed her.

  It had taken some deep soul searching to realize my feelings for her weren’t depraved or perverted. Gracie was nineteen, she was all woman, and I was twenty-eight, definitely all man. We were adults, and Gracie was no blood relative. I was attracted to her, and finally after a long year of being a fucking pussy, I’d accepted that fact. The thing was now, I didn’t know how to go about repairing the hurt I’d caused her. I’d treated her like shit, I’d been less than discreet with the women I fucked, and I’d rejected her point blank. A broken heart wasn’t something I knew how to deal with.

  Jebediah moving around Gracie wrenched my thoughts away from the emotional storm I’d whipped up. He stepped behind her rigid body, his nose dipping into the arch of her neck. I vibrated with anger, my jaw locked so tight I thought I might break a tooth.

  Gracie held such fear in her big green eyes, the flesh over her knuckles white from the tight fist she clenched.

  “But I understand. She’s special,” Jebediah continued, stepping out of Gracie’s personal space once more. “Special, special, special,” he repeated. “She’s your weakness.” Jebediah strolled toward me. That was good, the further away from Gracie, the better. “You have two choices.” Holding up his hand he counted off one finger. “Choice number one… your death. It will be messy and brutal, and the little bird behind me gets a front row seat.” Jebediah squatted down before me, his smile softening. “I kind of hope you pick that one.” There was a long pause before he held up his hand and counted off another finger. “Choice number two… you work for me.”

  “I get the feeling I’d prefer death over working for you,” I said, keeping my voice level and calm.

  Jebediah smiled, his head tilting to one side as he considered my words. “Thought you’d say that.”

  He quickly stood and made his way back to Gracie, circling her once more, his hand reaching out to capture the long, dark braid which hung almost to her waist, raising it to his face and using the feathered end to rub across his bottom lip. “After you’re dead, the little bird is mine to play with.”

  “I won’t let you touch me,” Gracie snapped, the sharp tang to her quietly buried temper gently licked the air.

  “Oh, Gracie,” Jebediah sighed. “What makes you think you would have a choice?”

  “If you touch me, I’ll gut you, you freak—”

  Gracie’s words were cut off as a woman stepped forward and swung a kick to her head. Gracie was thrown through the air and onto her back, her head bouncing off the worn grass as Jebediah laughed maniacally.

  My own temper frayed, and I tried to scramble to my feet. My momentum was brought to a quick halt when a gun was pressed right between my eyes. It was a weapon unlike anything I’d ever seen before, an ostentatious silver piece, a little bigger than your average gun with etchings down the barrel. With the steel pressed against my forehead, I remained still.

  Jebediah tsked me, all the while smiling like the
insane asshole he was. “You touch my sister, and it’s automatically option number one.”

  His sister now stood to his side, her arms slipping around his waist and her head resting serenely on his shoulder like she hadn’t just lashed out with violence seconds ago.

  “Meet my sister, Jezebeth. But we all call her Jeze.” Jebediah lowered his weapon as he affectionately stroked Jeze’s cheek, and then leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to her full lips. When his gaze returned to mine, his grin was a proud smirk. “So, what will it be? Your servitude and Gracie’s sweet pussy remains yours?”

  I had to keep Gracie safe from this man, regardless of whether she would ever be mine or not. Jebediah currently held all the power, and I needed to be smart about how I handled that fact. There was no way I was letting this fucker walk into Liberty and just take it without a fight, but I had no idea how many men worked for him or the weaponry they had.

  Forcing my foot beneath me I began to stand, waiting for the kick which would send me to my knees. Thankfully it didn’t come, and I stood to my full height as I took in Jebediah’s measure. He was only slightly shorter than my six feet three, thin, though muscled in a way that told me he was fit. The fucker was clearly crazy. And the thing about crazy—they had few limits. But I already knew his weak spot, just as he knew mine. Jeze was clearly someone special to Jebediah, and I was already thinking of how I could use that to my advantage.

  “I’ll work for you. But Jebediah? You touch Gracie and all bets are off.”

  Jebediah’s hyper laughter filled the quiet morning air. “Of course, of course,” he replied in a dry tone.

  Turning I found Gracie standing once more. Her shoulders were pressed proudly back even as her cheek began to swell. Limping toward her, I gently ran a finger over the bruising. She didn’t move, her glassy eyes roaming over my injuries.

  “I’m sorry, buttercup.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she whispered. “You didn’t do it. Are you all right?”

  Trust Gracie to brush off her own injury and fixate on someone else’s.

  “Nothing a hot shower won’t fix.”

  Gracie rolled her eyes, an action that might have alleviated the worry held in those moss green orbs if overwhelming fear wasn’t still harbored there.

  “Face the enemy, show no fear,” I reminded her in a low voice.

  Words I’d said to her many times over the years. The training I’d forced on her in the early days scared her. I’d had to tap into a place deep inside her soul where all her fear, anger, and hate lay buried.

  “Face your enemy,” I’d ordered her quietly, but with real meaning. “Don’t show them your fear, bury it deep, and you fight to survive, buttercup.”

  Face, fear, fight — three words which reminded her that under the timid, gentle exterior she wore so well, she was a warrior.

  “Face, fear, fight,” she repeated.

  “Fuckin’ beautiful,” Jebediah shouted. “Your communications room is off limits. Gates are about to be locked up good and tight. As we speak, my men are moving from room to room and searching for any weapons you might have thought to hide from me. If you’re feeling a little rebellious and lash out at me or my men, you get a taste of what ol’ Viviane here got… a beat down and strung up. The Arena is mine. You are mine. So, the sooner you wrap your head around that, the better.” Nobody said a word. “Glad we can come to an understanding. Now get these fuckers out of my sight,” he ordered. “Dig a pit and grab some firewood. We’re going to burn these dead assholes. Those still breathing can return to their homes. Tonight, we’re going to party.”

  Trigger stepped forward, his face grim. I gave him my best ‘what the fuck’ look.

  “She just…disappeared,” he mumbled, his gaze straying over my shoulder and watching as Jebediah and his militia moved about behind us. Shaking my head, I reached out for Gracie’s hand, wincing when pain lanced my ribs.

  “It’s fucking Gracie,” I growled. “Off course she disappeared.”

  “I’m right here assholes,” Gracie muttered under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear.

  “Ink,” Jebediah’s voice stopped me in my tracks. “I will be taking Viviane’s humble home while my men take up residence in the soldier’s quarters. You and your men have twenty minutes to clear the building.” His lips then turned into an exaggerated leer. “Feel free to leave any women you’ve become bored with, I have no doubt my men will look upon such a boon with good favor.”

  Viviane’s home was a large cabin sitting in the trees behind the soldier’s barracks. Her cabin was bigger than most, the extra space used for meetings and gatherings. The barracks was a large brick building filled with small apartment style rooms for the soldiers and their families. It was filled to capacity. Moving them all so quickly was going to be a full scale effort.

  “I’ll put together a group of men and get everyone moved.” Max stepped up beside me. He was a rebel soldier I’d served alongside before Liberty was established. Max was my oldest soldier at fifty-four, but he was as fit as the younger men, and the people in Liberty trusted him and responded well to his command.

  “I’ll get Gracie settled and meet you at the barracks.”

  “We got this, Ink,” Max argued. “You need to get sewn up. And from the way you’re standing, I’d say you have at least one or two bruised or fractured ribs. I’ll pack up your things. Where should I bring them?”

  Sitting back on my ass while my men emptied the barracks stung, I wasn’t one to sit back and let others do the hard work. “I’m fine. Just give me some time to get patched up, and I’ll meet you.”

  “You look like a stiff wind would blow you over,” Trigger added. “Let Max handle it.”

  Max arched a brow. “Bags?”

  “Gracie’s cabin,” I reluctantly conceded. I knew I had a concussion, splintering pain lanced my head, and my body was aching something fierce. I wouldn’t be of any use to anyone if I passed out.

  “One more thing, Ink,” Jebediah said from a few feet away, his sister standing at his back. I had a feeling her position behind her brother was one born to watch for an attack he couldn’t see coming, rather than deference or servitude. “We would be honored if you and Grace would accompany us to the party tonight. A welcome-to-the-compound type thing.” He grinned. “Be at our new residence on dusk.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was willingly spend time with this man, but getting to know your enemy was a sound strategic plan. Offering him a slight nod, I turned my back and followed Trigger through the compound. A compound which was usually full of laughter this time of the morning, but now deathly silence fell over the land. Grim faces found mine, and I tried to offer them some sliver of hope, but the sharp sting of shock was still too new and raw. We were all walking an equally rocky path, not sure where to put our foot next.

  Tonight, I would find out what Jebediah wanted with Liberty, and then we would figure out how to untangle this web we’d become stuck in.

  ***

  As the adrenaline left my body, the aches and pains filled every inch of me. My head was pounding, my shoulder throbbing, and breathing too deeply sent a stabbing pain through my ribs. Trigger got to work on stitching the cut on my shoulder, he’d already closed one above my eye. He wasn’t a trained medic, but he had enough experience stitching during his time in the forces. We had a doctor in Liberty, Ashlynn, but I knew she’d be busy with other more seriously injured patients. I didn’t want to monopolize her time when Trigger could patch me up.

  “He said he had a source,” Gracie muttered as she paced the room. “Someone inside Liberty has been talking to him.”

  I nodded, wincing at the pain that spiked with such a simple movement.

  “We can’t trust anything he says, he’s clearly insane,” Trigger mumbled.

  Insane didn’t even begin to cover it.

  “Did Skye get out?” Gracie’s eyes were wide with alarm as if her friend’s wellbeing only just occurred to her. “Was there anyo
ne else at the evacuation point?”

  Trigger huffed out a breath of air. “She has self-preservation, Grace. You, though… fuck me! I’ve never known someone so belligerent and disobedient.” He shook his head angrily.

  I didn’t like the way he berated her, especially knowing her unwillingness to leave stemmed from a good place. Who were we to punish or belittle her for her compassion?

  “Leave it.” Even though I whispered the word, the command was no less, and Trigger snapped his mouth shut.

  “I got her to the bunker. I’m assuming she got out, but I didn’t notice anyone else there. So I have no idea if anyone else made it,” he eventually said a little brusquely as he finished off the final stitch and cut the thread. “I’m gonna go check on Max and see how they’re going clearing out the barracks. Ink has a concussion, Grace. Do you think you can follow orders and wake him every hour?”

  “Enough,” I growled, furious at the way he was speaking to her.

  Trigger didn’t look the least bit contrite as he turned toward the door. Gracie had stiffened at his remark but didn’t say anything. She did, however, slam the door shut behind him, letting us all know she didn’t appreciate it. With stiff, awkward movements, she began to clean up the first aid kit Trigger had been using. At a basin in the tiny bathroom, she wet a hand towel under the faucet and moved to stand before me. I was sitting on the edge of her bed, my body moments away from shutting down.

  “He’s just stressed about the situation, we all are. Ignore him.”

  “Character is something defined under pressure,” she mumbled, anger still laced in her quiet tone.

  “My wise little buttercup.”

  Her nose scrunched up like she’d just sucked in a bad smell. “I hate it when you call me that.” She gently began wiping the blood from my face. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that the pet name I’d adopted for her years ago had more recently become something that seemed to irritate her. Habit kept me using it.