Liberty

by Kirsty Dallas

  My own pride swelled up inside as I listened to Slink recite the plan without so much as a hitch in his voice. His dark brown eyes were full of determination, his posture tall, shoulders back, his hands gripping the shoulder straps of his backpack. He might have been as slim as a flagpole, but the boy had enough resolve to share.

  “You got this, Slink,” I said, giving him a nod.

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  The crack of gunfire pulled our attention to the outskirts of the compound.

  “Go, get him moving,” I growled to David as I turned and ran past the brick barracks, around the old communal bathrooms and into the thick trees that cushioned the buildings within the compound.

  Heavy boots from my side caught my attention, and I found Fury and Ethan running alongside me, their grim features set straight ahead. The sound of children crying made my stomach churn, the panicked screams forced my heart beat double time. Skidding into a small clearing, I found a group standing around a woman who lay still on the forest floor. Pushing my way through, I felt a tortured mixture of relief and anger. Relief it wasn’t Gracie. Anger a woman in Liberty had been shot. And from the terrified looks on the faces of the children who huddled into their parent’s arms, she’d been shot in front of the kids.

  “Connie,” Ethan growled in a low voice.

  Glancing around, I found Gracie sitting a little way from the chaos. In her lap sat Jed, a six-year-old squirt of a boy, his legs and arms wrapped around her as he clung to her small form. I just about fell over my feet in my rush to get to her, and I crouched down to bring my eyes level with hers. There wasn’t a single tear on her soft cheeks, but her pupils were so large they swallowed most of the green, and she was so pale her freckles were almost washed away.

  “Buttercup, you okay?” I asked, my hands running down her arms, my gaze checking her over for blood or injury before doing the same with Jed. My hand gently patted over her head, her soft stubble foreign under my palm.

  “He shot her,” she murmured, her eyes glued to Connie.

  “Who shot her, baby?” I asked, satisfied she and Jed were uninjured.

  “The ghost man,” Jed’s muffled voice answered me.

  Jebediah shot Connie? Connie was nobody, a teacher for fuck’s sake. She probably didn’t even own a goddamned weapon.

  “Why?” I managed to force the words out as rage made my muscles lock up.

  Finally, Gracie’s gaze left Connie and found my own. She looked so lost and was no doubt in shock. “She was a casualty in war. We belong to Jebediah, and he wants us to remember that.”

  I was a heartbeat away from jumping to my feet and going in search of Jebediah when Gracie’s hand latched on to my forearm.

  “Don’t go,” she said, her eyes filling with tears but not even one spilling. “Not yet, I think I need you right now.” Her declaration was so soft and vulnerable, there was no way I could leave her.

  “Fury?”

  “Yep,” he answered from just over my shoulder.

  “Let’s get this area cleaned up, get the children indoors, and have Connie’s body prepared for burial. Someone needs to let Scott know. He and Connie had been spending a lot of time together lately.”

  “I’ll go see Scott,” said Max, having just arrived on the scene.

  It was better that Max told Scott, Fury had the social etiquette of a grizzly bear. Jed was soon pulled into his mother’s arms, and once Gracie was free of the burden, I helped her to her feet and tugged her along, heading toward her cabin. She came without fuss, her pale, dazed features set in stone.

  At her cabin, I locked us both inside and gently coaxed Gracie to sit on her bed with a little pressure on her shoulders. She was clearly in shock, her breaths rapid and shallow, her hands clammy. Getting the stove heater in the corner started took only minutes before I began to pull off her boots, followed by two pairs of socks. I continued to undress her right down to her underwear, and she continued to stare in an unresponsive state that scared the shit out of me. Her grief or anger would be a welcome change to this shock she was frozen in.

  Once I had her under the thick blankets, I took one of her hands and began to massage it as I spoke in a low voice. “The first time I killed a man I was nineteen. He was a lone terrorist wearing a suicide vest just outside of old New York. For a long while after I was worried something was wrong with me because I didn’t shed a tear for the loss of his life. Don’t get me wrong, I did regret it, but I did what I had to do to keep me and my team safe.”

  A monster, that’s what I thought of myself. Because I hadn’t shed a tear, I figured that’s what I was, a heartless bastard who could stand before death and not be moved to tears.

  “The first time I saw someone I cared about die, I had not long turned twenty. By then I was working for the rebel forces, and there was a young guy on our team, Manny, he’d not long turned eighteen. He didn’t have the training we did, but he was loyal and determined, he fought for the freedom of the innocents in the underground prison systems. Trigger, Mann, and Silo were team Delta Four, my team. We were scouting a route through New York to the Underworld prison. We weren’t supposed to engage, we were there to find the safest route to travel through the rubble and buildings. Two government soldiers doing a patrol spotted Manny.”

  The helpless look on Manny’s face when he realized he was screwed would haunt me forever. If he was taken in, he would have been tortured mercilessly for information on the resistance. He chose to go out guns blazing.

  “When he realized he’d been spotted, he knew he couldn’t follow us to our hiding spot, it would give us away, so he raised his gun and shot at the soldiers.”

  Glancing down I noticed Gracie was no longer staring off into the shadowed depths of her cabin. Instead, she was watching me carefully, listening to my story.

  “They shot back, of course, and Manny took two bullets to the chest and one to the stomach. Kill shots, the kid didn’t stand a chance. I watched him go down, his eyes searching for me, for his team, for safety. While he collapsed onto the hard asphalt, Trigger dragged me away so we could avoid being found.”

  Reaching for her other hand, I began to massage it. “I didn’t want to leave him there, alone. Even though I knew he was dead, I didn’t want him to be alone, without friends.”

  A single tear slipped out the corner of Gracie’s eye and fell down into her hairline.

  “I threw up, I fucking raged, I was so angry. I cried for Manny that night, and that’s when I knew I was okay. I wasn’t immune to death, I could feel it’s sorrow and grief. Guilt I was familiar with, but the guilt of watching someone I cared for die…” I laid Gracie’s hand down and leaned over her, holding her gaze like she was holding mine. “Fuck, that guilt crippled me. Even though I hadn’t ordered Manny on that mission, I was the team leader, he was my responsibility out there and he’d died on my watch while I’d stood back in a dark corner and observed the whole fucking thing. I didn’t do anything, I didn’t avenge him, I didn’t try to get to him, I just crept away and left him with the enemy.”

  “How did you get past that?” Gracie whispered after a long silence.

  “I don’t think I ever really did,” I confessed. “I never forgot Manny. I never forgot that night, and I made a promise to myself I’d do better, I’d be better, and I’d never let another innocent man, woman or child die while on my watch.” Another failure that I struggled to accept. More innocents had died in Liberty, once again on my watch.

  Gracie’s hand rose, and she traced her name down my cheekbone. “Are you okay, Ink?”

  This girl! Here she was in the grips of sorrow, and she was asking if I was okay.

  I smiled, unable to hold it back as I took her finger and pressed the pad of it to my lips. “Yeah, buttercup, I’m okay. We’re fighting to survive, baby.”

  Using her arms, she pushed herself into a sitting position. We were so close barely a breath of air whispered between our lips. Her warmth touched my skin, her beauty touched my he
art, and her spirit touched my soul.

  “I love you so, fucking, much,” I whispered.

  Her eyes widened. “You love me?”

  Her surprise gutted me, but I had no-one to blame but myself. “I guess I should expect your surprise, after the way I’ve treated you.”

  Gracie shook her head. “Let’s leave the past in its place, I’m ready to look toward the future now.” Running a hand down my cheek, a timid smile found its way to her lips. “I forgive you, you silly man.”

  Words failed me. She forgave me?

  “I didn’t tell you I loved you in an attempt to gain your forgiveness.”

  “There is no love without forgiveness, Ink. I love you. Forgiving you was inevitable, and I trust you.”

  My forehead pressed against hers as the wonder of Gracie’s faith in me stole the darkness right from my heart.

  “I’ve always loved you. Even when you were a grubby twelve-year-old whining because you hated bugs, I couldn’t have adored you anymore.”

  “That was different.”

  I nodded and raised my hand to trace the delicate line of her cheekbone. “Yeah, it was. It was different. It was the kind of love that made me want to protect you from the world… even the bugs.”

  Finally, a small smile cracked Gracie’s lips, breaking through the shock and grief. “You don’t want to protect me from bugs anymore?”

  “You don’t need me to protect you from the bugs anymore. You’re a warrior.” Her smile widened. “But I still want to protect you from the world.” My hand gently moved to the gauze-covered injury on her thigh from where the bullet had grazed her. “Most of all, I want to help you forget. Will you let me do that for you?”

  CHAPTER 19 – Grace

  I love you.

  Those words played over in my mind on a continuous loop. Hearing them had broken through any remaining doubts I had about Ink. Over the past weeks, he had chipped away at my uncertainty and with those three words he’d smashed it to pieces. He loved me. Exposing his own vulnerable memories and gifting me more honesty, had snatched me away from the horror of Connie’s death and cushioned the fall from such a heavy sorrow. Only one tear had managed to fall free for her, but more would come later when my mind finally processed what had happened. For now, I was happy to ignore the world outside my cabin and just be with Ink. He was leaning over me, his big hands positioned on either side of my head, holding his strong body off mine. There was too much distance between us, and he was still wearing his jacket. I needed his warmth now more than ever.

  “Help me forget,” I all but begged, reaching for his jacket and releasing the zipper.

  My eyes were riveted on his face, fascinated by every little feature. The freckle by his right eye, the short beard on his jaw, long dark lashes fringing beautiful blue eyes. Eyes currently full of burning need. As always, my gaze was drawn to my name scrolled down his cheekbone. My name on his body. Once upon a time, he told me it didn’t mean love, but I knew differently now. It was a declaration in its loudest form.

  When he pulled away from me, I actually pouted until I realized he was pulling his jacket off, quickly followed by his long-sleeved shirt which he gripped from behind and discarded like only a man can do. His boots were quick to follow and when he looked back at me, his hand on the zipper to his pants, my eyes were fast to drop from admiring his wide shoulders and heavily tattooed arms and chest to watch those fingers slowly peel away his cargos. Embarrassment almost forced me to look away, but the hardness beneath his boxer briefs won over any awkwardness.

  This was the closest I’d come to seeing this particular part of a man. Ever. Even when Ink had stumbled groggily around the back of Jebediah’s truck naked, my gaze hadn’t dropped to his body. Hurt nudge its way in and with a small shake of my head, I shook those thoughts away. There was no room for them here and now. My gaze once again dropped to his groin. The world outside could crumble and fall, and I would not look away.

  Those deliciously long inked fingers took the elastic from his hips and tugged the fabric down his thick thighs. My mouth dropped open, eyes widened as I watched his erect length bounce under my scrutiny. His dick was long, and thick, with a vein running down one side of its heavy length to a mushroomed head that looked smooth to the touch. From the books I’d seen as a curious young teen, I assumed an excited male’s erection was more erect. Instead, Ink’s dick appeared hard but hung downward, heavy and almost angry looking.

  “You keep looking at me like that, and this will be over before it starts.”

  His low, husky voice jump-started my frozen stupor, and I found his amused eyes watching me as he lowered himself to the bed, resting alongside me on the small mattress.

  “It’s bigger than I expected,” I quietly confessed.

  Ink’s smirk transformed into a full-blown grin, one of those elusive ones that I’d never witnessed him share with anyone but me.

  “You sure say the nicest things, buttercup.”

  Slapping his chest, I scoffed. “It’s not going to fit,” I said with a blush, squeezing my thighs together.

  “Gracie, you were made for me, we’ll fit.”

  In this moment that was supposed to be romantic and erotic, according to the stupid books Skye made me read, I was having a mild panic attack. There was no way something that big would fit inside me. Of course, I’d experimented with my own fingers in the past, but lifting my hand in front of me now I noted the considerable size difference between him and my dainty digits.

  “You’re thinking too hard,” Ink growled, before pushing my hand aside and leaning forward to kiss me.

  Warm lips pressed against mine, his tongue dipping into my mouth and tangling with my own. He kissed with an expertise that sent a pang of jealousy into my heart at the most inappropriate of times. All thoughts of Ink’s sexual prowess vanished as his fingers slipped beneath the top cup of my bra. Pulling away, a soft gasp left my lips as the backs of those fingers touched my nipple.

  “You like that?” he whispered as he tugged and pulled at the taut bud.

  ‘Like’ was far too simple a word, and I would have tried to find another except my brain shut down as I absorbed these new feelings. My eyes fluttered shut and my tongue no longer tangled with his as I melted under Ink’s hands. Obviously, reading my body’s enjoyment, he left my unresponsive lips to pull the cups of my bra down beneath my small breasts. Once he had them free, he kissed one tight tip, then the other, then he sucked one nipple, hard and strong, and my body bowed off the mattress.

  “Ohhh…” I managed to groan as he continued to play with my nipples, licking, sucking, even biting.

  There seemed to be a nerve ending from my breasts to that heated juncture between my thighs because each time Ink drew a nipple into his mouth, that place throbbed with need. I’d barely noticed the whisper of his calloused fingers as he smoothed one hand down my stomach and under the elastic of my plain, cotton panties. Another long, unrecognizable word fell from my lips as one finger slid into the crease between my thighs, touching me there, where no man had ever dared touch before. That finger slipped in, then out, in, then out, over and over again, with long, slow movements. I’d given myself a few orgasms over the years, but none of them compared to the way Ink made that pressure in my body build higher and higher. Then, he disappeared, his mouth leaving my breasts, his fingers gone from under the fabric of my panties.

  “Dammit,” I groaned.

  Ink chuckled, but moved swiftly down my body, pulling my underwear free from my legs before using two big hands to press my thighs wide apart. I was mortified having him so close to that part of my body, but any embarrassment disappeared as he buried his face between my legs, his tongue sliding into the slit his finger had been in only moments before.

  I’d heard about this—oral sex. I’d read about it. Heard Skye talk about it as if it were a holy miracle of devout proportions, and I’d wondered what it would be like. Everything I’d heard was a pitiful drop in what was a vast ocean of sw
eeping tides. It was… mind-blowing. Ink dipped his tongue into my wetness, tugged my clit with his lips, nipped with his teeth and sucked hard, and I was swept away, gone, falling into a white, noiseless haze. As my body returned from wherever Ink had sent it, I found his strong, hard body over me, one hand positioning himself at my entrance as his forehead rested against mine.

  “We can stop right now if you’re not ready to go any further.”

  “I want more,” I was quick to blurt out, my face heating.

  Ink smiled and kissed the corner of my mouth. “I can give you more,” he breathed roughly. “I’ll be as gentle as I can, but the first time is going to hurt you, baby.”

  I’d read that too, but right now I was too blissfully languid to care. Nodding, I lay like a lazy sack of potatoes beneath Ink as he pressed his hardness into me. He was huge, and it pulled tight and uncomfortable almost right away. But true to his word, Ink was gentle, thrusting with slow, shallow movements.

  “I never wanted to cause you pain.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the physical pain of our joining or our past, but either way, I’d take every moment of that pain and more to be right here with him now. With one final hard thrust that made my body shift up the mattress, Ink was completely inside me, and I grunted through the pain which was like a sharp, stretched sting.

  We lay there, still, joined, and loving each other. Ink’s hands fondly whispered over my body as if he were trying to touch every exposed piece of flesh and memorize every dip and curve. The fullness of having him inside me remained, but the pain eventually dulled as Ink lowered his mouth and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips as if an apology, then he moved. Slowly in and out, much like his clever fingers had done.

  “Fuck! You feel so good,” he murmured, lowering his body, so he was covering me much like my favorite blanket.

  His chest was against mine, one hand lifting my knee to allow him more room, his other hand under my shoulder, pulling me against his sweat-slicked skin. There wasn’t an inch of us separated, and just like Ink promised, we fit. There was still some pain, but the magic of this moment, the unbelievable beauty of it had my legs hooking behind his ass to drag him closer.