Page 88 of Taming Liberty

I gasp three times before going into a coughing fit, Jasper’s laughter ringing in my ears.

“Come on, Liberty. I’m acontract killer. Is that the best you can do?”

I drop the shard, and it thumps on the dirt. Jasper gets up and brushes debris off his arms, ignoring my blood staining his shirt.

When my coughing slows down and I’m no longer at risk of strangulation, I roll onto my side and start to cry.

Jasper kicks my leg. “Get up.”

I don’t move.

“All this talk about you being a fighter, and you’re going to lay on the ground and let me kill you? Come on, do better than that. Your friend put up a bigger fight.”

I wince as he kicks me again. I’m reminded of his time spent with Naomi, and if I wasn’t busy crying for myself, I would cry for her. She went through an entire week of this torture.

“Get thefuckup,” he barks, kicking me hard in my side.

I groan and roll onto my stomach. I hear Naomi’s voice in my head from the day she got back to the manor after surviving this man. She was bruised and broken, and I teared up at the sight of her.

Don’t cry, you weakling.

I harden my face, forcing my lips into a thin line to stop their trembling. My palms plant flat on the ground, and I shift my knees to raise myself up.

“There you go,” Jasper says.

It takes a great deal of effort, but slowly, my muscles begin to work together, and I stand. I face him head on, my chin held high.

Jasper smiles his approval, the evil glint in his eyes taking up his irises. “Good.” He points behind me. “Nowrun.”

Run. This is what he did to Naomi. He told her to run, and when he caught her, he broke her arm.

I wonder what he’ll break on me.

I don’t know, and I hope I don’t find out. I turn and dart toward the edge of the perimeter, not looking behind me. The prideful part of me doesn’t want to play his game, but the only other option seems to be to die. Fighting him is useless.

So I run, as fast as I can while my lungs burn and my achy limbs try to fail me. I scale the fence as quickly as I can and take a split second to look for Jasper when I hit the ground. I don’t see him. He isn’t by the car.

I turn and race into the tree line, begging the forest for sanctuary. I head in the direction of the road, willing it to be the opposite direction as him. It’s fruitless, I know. He’s a hunter, and this is his game. I’m fucking dead, but my mind won’t accept it. Not yet.

Rustling comes from behind me, and I push harder, faster, increasing my strides and pumping my legs until I silently weep at the way my body protests.

“I’m right behind you, baby. You’d better hope you can run as fast as you can swim.”

I canhearthe taunt in his voice, and I know he’s merely toying with me. He’s fucking weak for it. I’m a fantastic runner, better than I am a swimmer. He had to batter me before he could guarantee the win.

I hear something up ahead and to my right, and my head whips that way. My eyes widen as I spot the headlights glowing in the distance, barely visible through the trees.

The pilot.

I cry out with hope and lunge through the trees. Just as I break through, a hand bunches into my shirt and all my momentum comes to a screeching halt as I’m yanked back.

“No!” I scream, flailing my arms and legs.

Jasper puts a hand over my mouth and hugs me to him, snickering in my ear. “Expecting someone?”

My screams muffle against his palm as he moves us toward the road. “Here, let me help. Maybe you can flag him down.”

He crouches, forcing me down with him. The car gets close, and once it’s mere car lengths away with no time to stop, Jasper jerks me up and shoves me into the road.

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