Liberty At Last (The Liberty Series)

by James, Leigh

  I’d been right.

  “Did you ask me a question?” I asked still crying into John’s tee-shirt, clutching him to me. He put the ring on my finger.

  “Will you marry me?” he whispered into my ear.

  I burst into fresh tears. “Of course!” I said wildly, and cried even harder. “I love you, John Carter Quinn. I could never go back to a John-less life,” I said, sniffling and kissing his chest through his tee-shirt. “It would be too boring and safe.”

  “No running, though,” John said, cradling me to his chest, kissing my hair. “No crazy step-daughters, no guns.”

  “And all the cheap macaroni and cheese I could eat,” I said, shrugging. “For you, I’ll give it up. I’ll give it all up for you.”

  We just held each other for a minute, feeling our closeness. It was the same, but it was different — stronger, somehow. I managed to stop crying long enough so I could intermittently reach up to cup John’s face and kiss him and then stare at my glittering, gorgeous ring.

  “Are you sure you want to marry a stripper who’s twenty years younger than you? From a broken home?” I asked him, half-joking, half-serious.

  “I’m sure,” John said, and held me closer to him, rocking me. “It’ll give me some street cred that I’ve been seriously lacking. Plus, you’re wicked hot,” he said, and brushed his lips against my neck. We both laughed.

  “Are you sure you want to marry someone who’s so much older?” he asked pulling back and looking at me seriously. “Have you thought it through?”

  I nodded at him, suddenly serious, too. It was a big deal. When I was in my forties, he would be in his sixties. When I was sixty-something, he would (hopefully) be eighty-something.

  “I’ve thought about it, and I’m fine with it,” I said. “First of all, you’re in better shape than I am, and you’ll probably still be lifting weights when you’re 80. On top of that, you’re woefully immature — so in terms of relationship equilibrium, I’m not that worried about it.”

  “Ha, ha,” he said.

  “But I do want to ask you,” I said, feeling myself start to blush fiercely, “if you want to have more children.” I just left the sentence out there like that, without saying anything else. I wanted to have kids, not right now, but probably in the near future. I’d never thought of them before I met John; but it was like he had set off some sort of biological urge in me. Now I could almost sense them, our imaginary children, like they were out there, waiting for us. I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

  John sat there silently for a minute, and I could almost feel him thinking. “I’ve gone over this in my head, again and again,” John said. “On the one hand, I have this horrible situation with Catherine. And part of the reason it’s horrible, maybe a large part, is because I failed her as a father.”

  “What does Ian say about that?” I asked. He had such a great relationship with his own father. I couldn’t picture Ian remaining silent on the subject of John’s paternal duties over the years.

  “Ian always said I was an idiot,” he said. “He said I shouldn't have had sex with Eva unless I was in love with her. And that I should have expected what happened. He said I was being a baby when I complained that Catherine didn’t want to spend time with me. He said I should have been more mature about being a parent.”

  We were both quiet for a moment…Ian always seemed to have those inarguable points. The kind that made you want to kick yourself.

  “He was right,” John said, and shrugged. “I wanted it to be easy with her. Even though I wasn’t around, I wanted her to love me just because I was her father. And maybe she did, but that’s not the same thing as having a real relationship. And look at her now,” he said.

  I heard myself sigh; I hadn’t meant to, but I did anyway. He couldn’t go through being a parent again. It had cost him too much. I guessed he was trying to give me an answer without giving me an answer.

  “Liberty,” he said, looking up. He clasped my chin and brought my face to his. “I don’t want to be one of those pathetic guys that says he’s going to do it right the second time, with my ‘real family,’” he said.

  “I understand,” I said, in a small voice. And I did understand. But I felt my heart breaking at the same time.

  He gauged my look instantly and hugged me to him.

  “But I’m not saying that,” he said. “And I do want to have children with you. If we weren’t going to South America in a few weeks, I’d make you marry me tomorrow and start trying to knock you up immediately,” he said and laughed, and it made my heart pound. I held my breath.

  “There is something about being with you that makes me want nothing more than to feed you, make love to you, get you immensely pregnant with our gorgeous children and keep you all prisoner in our home, safe from the world, until the end of time,” John said. His tone was joking but his eyes were not.

  “I didn’t keep Catherine safe, but I’m not giving up on her,” he said, sounding serious again. “I won’t forgive myself for what I did. But I can do better now. I’m a better person. So no matter what I’ve done in the past, I’m not giving up on the future.”

  He leaned over and kissed my hair, then. “You gave me that hope, Liberty.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I’ve seen what you’ve risen up against,” he said, clutching my sides. “You’re so strong. The fact that you love me, that you loved me enough to risk your life for me, after everything you’ve been through…since you were a girl, no one’s ever earned your trust. And yet, you’re strong enough to trust me. That takes the bravest kind of person, Liberty.”

  The tears started again. No one could be this lucky. I sniffled against his shirt.

  “We are a couple of sniffling wrecks,” he said, patting my back and blowing his own nose.

  “So — you want to sniffle through the rest of your life with me?” I asked.

  “It would be an honor,” John said, kissing my forehead.

  Since it’s true that there’s no such thing as perfect, it followed that not everyone was going to be as thrilled about our engagement as we were.

  It started with Sasha, whom I called right after having coffee. “It’s three thirty in the morning,” Sasha said after picking up on the second ring. Her voice was tinged with barely-contained hysteria. “Please tell me you’re not bleeding out somewhere.”

  “I’m fine, Sash,” I said, smiling to myself. “I just have some news. I only have a second and then I’m crazy all day, and I didn’t want to tell you this in a text.”

  “You’re pregnant,” she snapped, and the wind went out of my sails at her accusatory tone.

  “No,” I said, looking down at the enormous, sparkling ring. I felt my joy rise back up, in spite of her disapproving tone. “John and I are engaged,” I said. Just hearing the words made a huge smile break out on my face. I looked up across the kitchen at John’s profile and I could see that my statement brought an ear-splitting grin to him as well.

  “Liberty,” Sasha trailed off, and again, I could again hear the disapproval in her voice.

  “Typically, people say congratulations, if you’ve forgotten proper etiquette,” I said lightly, ignoring her tone and my hurt. I was willing her to be happy for us. If she wanted to be a part of my life going forward, she was going to have to at least pretend.

  I heard her take a deep breath. “Congratulations,” she said. “I knew you two were in love when I saw you together. It’s great news, Lib. The age thing threw me at first, but I know he’s a good guy. I know you couldn’t love him otherwise.”

  “He’s a great guy,” I said, looking up at him and grinning some more. “I’m really lucky.” I could feel the tears wanting to pour out again, but I held them in check. I didn’t want to confuse Sasha with my overwhelming torrent of emotions.

  “Have you set a date?” Sasha asked.

  “No, not yet,” I said. “We just wanted to take the next step and make it semi-official. We’ll figure it
out. Listen, Sash, when we do set a date? Will you come? I need my maid of honor to be there,” I said. I blushed furiously and held my breath.

  Then I heard her start crying. So I started, too.

  “Of course I’ll be there,” she said, balling now. “You think I’d miss my baby sister’s wedding? And Liberty, I’m still so, so sorry —”

  There was a lot more blubbering after that. I left the room so John could eat in peace and I could do my ugly crying routine without him having to watch.

  A little later, with puffy eyes and running shorts on, I walked hand in hand with John across the field to the barracks. “I’m gonna skip the run and get going into Boston,” John said, kissing me on the nose. “Michael’s driving us. We’re going to pick up Eva and then meet with Dr. Sullivan.”

  I squeezed his hands and put my forehead against his. “Thank you,” I said, quietly. “and good luck. I’ll be thinking of you.”

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite plain-vanilla exotic dancer,” said a sarcastic voice from behind me. I froze. Catherine.

  “Hi honey,” John said, turning to her and breaking our embrace. I stood next to him, a little behind him.

  I hadn’t seen her in two days. She was on her crutches, her foot in some sort of boot, with Michael standing close behind her. In spite of all this, she looked improved. She was wearing makeup, and her color had returned; she was also wearing skin-tight designer jeans and the patterned blouse I’d picked up for her. Her hair was clean and hung in loose waves down her shoulders.

  She looked stunning, even with the crutches. And mean. I didn’t know what to make of the look on her face — it looked like she had just swallowed something sour — until I made the connection to what she was staring at.

  My enormous ring.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” she roared, looking at her father. “You’re going to marry her? You’re twenty years older than her, for Christ’s sake! You’ve only known her for three months! Seriously? And I’m the one who’s going to the fucking loony bin?”

  “You’re one to talk about taste in life partners,” John said coolly. She looked from him to me, and on instinct, I cowered behind him.

  “Nice secret-keeping, Liberty,” she said, flatly. “Way to go.”

  “He deserved to know the truth,” I said, trying to sound brave but still hiding behind John. If I was being honest with myself, she still scared the bejeezus out of me.

  “You don’t understand shit about what he deserves,” Catherine said, her eyes flashing at me in a way that was painfully familiar.

  “That’s enough,” I said, mentally finding my big-girl panties. At least she’s on crutches and can’t really get me. That thought helped. “Stop disrespecting your father,” I said, sounding more forceful than I felt. “He hasn’t done anything but try, very hard, to make things right with you.”

  “Sounds like someone’s working on their wicked stepmother routine,” said a voice behind me, low enough so Catherine couldn’t hear. I turned around. Matthew. He winked at me and made his face perfectly blank when John turned to glare at him.

  “Shut it,” I said quietly.

  “Oh great,” said Catherine, eyeing Matthew sourly. “It’s Howdy Doody, The Adonis Version.”

  “Hello to you, too,” he said, cheerfully. “Going somewhere?”

  “Oh, just fuck off, already,” she said. She motioned to Michael. “Can we get the fuck out of here, please? I hope they shoot me up with all sort of drugs so I can forget about all of you,” she said, clomping angrily towards the van on her crutches, Michael in tow.

  “Well then,” said John, turning back to me. “Even if you run a thousand miles, you’re still gonna have a better day than me.”

  I watched him go to the van.

  “Absofuckinglutely,” Matthew said, and I just sighed.

  Matthew strapped a plastic watch around my wrist. “We have to get you down to a ten minute mile,” he said, kindly. “Can’t be leaving the little lady behind in the jungle.”

  The watch reminded me of the one I wore back in Vegas, back when I was trying to get my Fiesta up to thirty so I could make it to work on time. It seemed like a million years ago, not just a few short months. I remembered my disgusting bathroom and checking for bed bugs every night. Even if things were different, and John and I weren’t going to be together, I wouldn’t go back to that life. I couldn’t. I thought of myself dancing, exposed in front of so many men, and I shuddered. I would find a way to do something different — live somewhere cheaper, work at a coffee shop or a library, find a way to go back to school. I wasn’t embarrassed by what I’d done. I was just over it.

  “Congratulations, by the way,” said Matthew, a huge grin on his face. “I had no idea John was proposing to you this weekend. Did you expect it?”

  “No,” I said, coming back from my Vegas reverie. “I had no idea. I’m so excited!”

  Matthew patted me on the shoulder. “It’s awesome, Liberty. I knew he was going to, I just didn’t know when. I’m so excited for you guys. I’ve known John for a long time. He’s a different guy, now. He’s so much happier.”

  I knew that, of all the people we’d told this morning, Matthew would be the one who was unequivocally excited for us. “Thank you,” I said. “It’s nice to hear that. Catherine was, ummm, a little less than thrilled.”

  “She’s nuts,” Matthew said, shaking his head. “You know it, and I know it. And John just hopes it’s not gonna last.” He shrugged. “I don’t blame him though. As a parent, it has to practically kill you to see your kid that messed up.”

  I nodded. I felt so bad for him and Eva.

  “Speaking of being a parent — how was trip home? How’s your family?” I asked.

  “They’re good,” Matthew said, and he smiled a smile that only came out when he was talking about his wife and son. It must’ve been his real smile, and it was a beautiful thing. “Mer’s pregnant,” he said.

  “Matthew! Congratulations!” I said.

  “We’re excited,” he said. “But it went over like a lead balloon that I’m going back to South America soon.” He shook his head. “It’s good that Mer’s family’s around. I feel bad, but I can’t make money like this anywhere else. I’m doing it for them.”

  “Does Meredith want you to quit?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “She would love it if I was a lawyer, or something,” he said and laughed. “But seeing as I barely graduated high school, that’s not in the cards. She’s always supported me, though. We’ve been together forever. It’s just different when you have kids. The idea of Daddy getting shot at seems a lot more scary. It’s worse for her, and for me.”

  I blew out a deep breath. I bet. “So, what’re you going to do?” I asked, genuinely curious. I couldn’t imagine Matthew — or John, if I was being honest — sitting behind a desk.

  “I can’t go back to the real world,” Matthew said, and shrugged. “It’s been too long. Maybe someday I could be a cop, or something. At least then I’d be closer to home. But as long as John wants me, I’m with him. He takes care of me. I own my house in Florida, my kids will have college funds, and that never could have happened without him. Plus, I like what I do. I get paid to work out and beat the crap out of bad guys. That rules, you know?”

  I nodded at him, mutely. Yes, I’d heard it as much.

  John was probably going to hate me for the rest of his life if I made him quit…and on top of that, I would be taking away the livelihood of his men.

  Crap. Double crap.

  “Let’s run,” I said, ignoring Matthew’s shocked look.

  “Being engaged to a superhero suits you,” Matthew said, zipping up his jacket. “So let’s work on getting that time down.”

  John didn’t come back that night. “They ran some tests on her today. I need to be here tomorrow. They’re going to make some decisions about what course of action to take then,” he said when he called.

  “Eva and I are going to grab dinner.
Is that okay with you?” he asked. He didn’t sound concerned, just like he was being polite.

  He really might be perfect.

  I held up my sparkly ring and gazed at it. “Of course it’s alright,” I said. I didn’t know how many carats of awesomeness I had on my ring finger, but even without it, I trusted him. “How’re you guys holding up?”

  “It’s been a long day. Eva and I were both interviewed about Catherine’s childhood, her personality before her disappearance. It was tough. Dr. Sullivan said he doesn’t think she needs drugs, maybe just an antidepressant. In other words, he doesn’t think she’s psychotic. Which is good, on one hand, because she’s not psychotic. On the other hand, it means she’s committed to her ideals and her relationship with Angel in a real way, a way that might not be…curable. For lack of a better word.”

  Silence hung between us for a moment. “You mean they think she really loves him,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said. His voice was heavy.

  “So then, what?” I asked. “What happens?”

  “I don’t know. She’s experienced trauma over the last few years. She definitely needs some therapy. So we’re going to figure that out first. After that I have absolutely no idea. I guess I’ll have to accept a cartel-leading drug-dealer for a son-in-law —”

  “And a twenty-one year old ex-stripper for a wife,” I said. “Gee, John, here’s your street cred. No problemo.”

  At least he laughed.

  “I love you,” he said. “I’m going to miss sleeping next to you tonight. Or not sleeping next to you tonight, if you know what I mean.” His voice was husky.

  “I do,” I said. “This bed’s too big without you.”

  “I’ll be home tomorrow,” he growled, making my belly clench with anticipation. “By the way — thank you for saying yes.”

  “Thank you for asking,” I said. “I love you, Mr. Quinn.”