Page 41 of Taming Liberty

My foot slips, and I tumble to the ground, my arms flailing as I seek out something to catch me. The mountain is too steep here, the ground too slick to gain traction, so I slide in the mud several feet before Angel takes hold of my ankle. Sawyer and Anna pass me but then pause and turn back.

“You okay?” Angel asks, letting go of my ankle and helping me up. “Do you want me to carry you?”

I swipe at the mud near my eyes, blinking hard to push away the debris. “No, I’m okay.”

My words don’t sound convincing even to me, but Angel must accept them because he doesn’t snatch me up.

“I’m getting in front of you,” he tells me over a clap of thunder, going around me then starting down the path. “Hold onto my shorts so I know where you are.”

I grab the hem of his shorts and let him lead me, so damn glad I didn’t come out here without Angel. I’m not sure how they can tell where we are, but even if we’re lost, at least I’m not alone.

I slip three more times, but Angel is there each time to break my fall. The ground seems to begin to flatten out, and I let out a relieved cry when I think I see the forest thinning.

“Your place is closer,” Sawyer calls out from ahead of us.

I can tell I’m slowing us all down, so I give up my pride and move my hands to Angel’s shoulders. He slows to a stop and bends so I can jump onto his back.

“It’s not much farther,” he says to me, putting his hand over mine and squeezing as we take off again. He firmly holds onto my legs as I wrap my arms around his neck and lay all my weight on his back.

It’s another few minutes before we break through the tree line, and the harsh raindrops prick like needles falling from the sky. I shut my eyes and shield my face with Angel’s back.

Abruptly, the rain stops.

I open my eyes and lift my head just as Angel eases me to standing. We’re on Angel’s back patio, shielded by the pergola.

I lower my head to the mud dribbling down my exposed legs like I’m a chocolate fountain, the red of my shorts no longer visible. When I look up, Sawyer is helping Anna into one of the patio chairs, mud instantly caking the cushion. He lifts her leg to inspect her ankle.

“I’m fine,” she insists, pulling her leg away. “It’s probably just sprained.”

She leans forward to wipe mud off her shin, and when she pulls herself back up she falls into the chair and laughs.

“Mr. Pleft us,” she snorts like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

Sawyer doesn’t look amused at first, but then his lips lift, and he lets out a small chuckle. The adrenaline must be wearing off for all of us because as I look out at the downpour, I laugh too. That was fucking terrifying.

“Are you okay?” Angel asks, gently taking my arm to guide me to face him.

I peer at his face and watch his concerned eyes roam my body, searching for any sign of injury.

It’s real... The concern in his eyes, the slight frown. It’s all real.

My chest aches.

“Yeah,” I say when he meets my eyes, waiting for my answer. “I’m fine.”

“She needs some ice,” Sawyer says.

We turn to face Sawyer holding Anna’s leg up without protest this time.

I start toward the back door. “I’ll get it.”

After being out in the storm, it’s deafeningly quiet inside.

I slide out of my shoes and throw my sopping wet shirt over my head before letting it slap onto the ground. I make a mess of collecting Anna’s ice, tinging the ice cubes and plastic bag—as well as the rest of the kitchen—muddy brown.

I look over my shoulder when I hear someone coming through the door and lock eyes with Angel. Sawyer and Anna follow him inside, Anna balancing herself on Sawyer while she limps beside him, his arm slung around her.

After Angel pulls out one of the kitchen chairs for Anna, she eases herself into it. “Thank you, Mr. A,” she sighs, stretching her leg out.

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