Page 105 of Longing for Liberty
“Ooh,” I said, placing my hands on his pecs. “You’re the best. I can’t wait.”
I meant to feign a yawn, but when I opened my mouth, it became real. I covered my mouth, and we both laughed. Amos raised a hand to signal goodnight to his guard, who stood by the car, and we went inside.
The bed was plush, and the old-world feel was delectable.
Yes, I thought, as we climbed into bed and Amos pulled me close.
Tomorrow.
It wouldn’t be the day he was expecting, but it would be the day he deserved.
FORTY-NINE
I wanted—needed—tosleep, but all I could do was doze in small batches throughout the night, anticipation keeping me awake worse than caffeine. What was going to happen?
We’d be here for at least a few days. Would Jeremy be able to disarm his guard and get away? Would he somehow be able to make it here? If so, when? And if not, what was my plan? My mind turned, playing out different scenarios one after the other until I was nearly delirious.
It turned out to be a good thing I was still semi-awake in the middle of the night, because I might not have heard the crunch of tires coming down the road or seen the gentle beam of headlights through the drapes from afar. Seeing as we were the only ones at the end of this small road, it meant someone was here for us. My heart banged wildly as I slid from bed and padded from the bedroom through the open door to the front window.
Oh my God. It was still a small way off, but the light was on inside the car…was that Jeremy behind the wheel? Holy shit! I had to act fast. I was not expecting this already.What should I do?
I moved quickly but quietly back into the bedroom, straight to Amos’s nightstand. I lifted his phone in my left hand and his gun, heavier than expected, in my right. Amos’s hand shot out, missing me as I jumped back, out of his reach.
“Liberty?” He sounded half-asleep still. “What are you doing?”
“Good morning, Amos.” My voice shook. I stepped all the way into the doorway before tucking his phone under my arm and grasping the top of the gun, pulling back hard until it slid and went back into place with aclick. Amos sat completely up now, both of his palms up. The room lit up with headlights.
“Put that down before you hurt someone.” He jumped from bed and motioned the gun to himself in a ‘come here’ wave, a look of confusion on his face. “Give it to me. I’ll handle whoever is here.”
“Stop, Amos.” I stepped back, through the doorway, and pointed the gun at him. “Don’t come any closer.”
He looked so bewildered standing there that I nearly laughed with hysteria. I moved into the sitting area by the front door, and Amos was now positioned in the bedroom doorway, both palms up, standing in his boxers. His eyebrows were crammed together as he stared at me like I was wearing some sort of strange costume.
“What are you doing?” he asked again. So calm.
I was not calm, but I felt locked in and in control.
“Don’t talk,” I told him.
A look of understanding crossed his face. “This is about that night.”
I let out a dry huff. “You mean the night you rolled over and showed your cowardly belly to the tiny tyrant? No. This is about the past six years, and before that. But that night didn’t help your case.” He looked ill now, his face like hot wax in the eerie light.
Outside I heard a man yell but couldn’t make out what he said. My heart plummeted with fear as Jeremy’s voice yelled back. And then gunshots. Four of them. I felt my eyes go wide.
“Liberty, give me my gun!” Amos lunged, and I lowered my aim, pulling the trigger and shooting the floor by his feet. My arm jolted and I jumped back, along with Amos, whose face changed from incredulous to pissed. I held the gun tighter now, knowing what to expect. The loud sound still rang inside my ears.
Someone was running up the steps. Oh, God. If Jeremy was dead, and the guard was on his way in, I had to move so fast. Who would I shoot first? The guard. Because he would have a gun, too. Yes. I would shoot the guard. As the pounding of steps neared the door, I got ready to twist toward the door, while keeping my footing flat so I could twist back and kill Amos before he could grab me.
But when I turned my upper body, it was Jeremy who burst through the door. I didn’t let my arm droop as my whole body sagged for a moment of relief, and I made a mewling sound. I expected Jeremy to come to my side, but he didn’t.
His eyes were crazed as he went straight for Amos.
“Jeremy, stop!” I yelled, but it was useless. In a flash of movement, my husband landed two meaty-sounding punches to Amos’s face before the Secretary had time to start fighting back. But Amos wasn’t a boxer. He grunted and threw his weight at Jeremy, taking him to the ground.
“Stop!” I yelled again, not daring to point the gun at them as they wrestled on the floor, both of them making animalistic sounds as they ripped at each other, punching, tearing, biting. Somehow, Jeremy, in all of his scrappiness, ended up behind Amos and got him in a headlock. He looked like a pit-bull locking its jaws around an abusive owner after finally escaping its chains. Jeremy’s face was fearsome and focused. Amos was turning beet red. He was smacking at Jeremy’s arm hard, kicking the air, and then patting him softer, until his arms fell to his side and his eyes rolled back. When he looked heavy, Jeremy dropped him and sprang to his feet.
“Libby.” He came to me, and we hugged hard, both of us keeping our heads turned toward Amos. I kept my gun arm outward.
