Page 15 of Taming Liberty

“Right, you were a rich, Spanish boy,” I half-heartedly joke.

“Nope. My family isn’t wealthy.”

I stare at Angel, wondering just how much I know. I thought we knew everything about each other. All the insecurities, all the intimate details… We’ve only scratched the surface.

His brow furrows. “What’s wrong?”

I sit up straight and try to school my expression. “What do you mean?”

He gestures at me like that’ll explain it. “You were smiling. Now you look uncomfortable… What did I say?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, I…”

I what?

I close my mouth, having no idea what I was about to say. Angel frowns but nods like he somehow understands.

Breaking eye contact, we sit in silence for a minute. We stare at the sunrise casting shades of red and yellow in the sky and reflecting over the ocean. It’s truly a beautiful view.

“You know, I meant it when I said I was only happy while talking to you,” I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Angel’s head turn to look at me. I continue staring straight ahead.

He faces forward before putting his hand over mine. “I meant it too.”

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, I shut my eyes and breathe in the fresh air, the smell of exotic trees hitting my nostrils.

“If I could go back, I would do things differently,” he murmurs.

His words feel good, better than an apology. They wrap around me in a soft embrace and plant a kiss to my cheek, a gentle lover on a wedding night.

But I’m smarter now. I’m learning.

I believe, with unrelenting optimism, that some of what Angel said is the truth. But these words…

They’re nothing but a pretty lie.

5

Angel

The sun blazes down on me as I walk to the manor, and I lift my hand up to shield my bloodshot eyes.

I’m exhausted. I’m one of few people who do well on little sleep, but the deprivation is catching up with me. After we got back to my house, I was able to doze for a few hours. I thought Lib would sleep as well, but when I woke up, she was outside on the patio, a coffee mug resting in her lap.

She looked sad, which isn’t exactly surprising, but I was relieved to learn it wasn’t about me this time. Last night was traumatic, to say the least, and she feels she needs to explain herself to the other girls. I disagree, but even if I thought it was at all necessary for her to talk to the manor whores, it still wouldn’t be a good idea for her to show up at the manor right now. She disagreed right back, and we, surprise, surprise, had another fight.

So here I am, headed to retrieve her friend as a compromise. If she can’t talk to all the girls, at least she can talk to one.

No one is by the pool when I arrive. My gaze drifts to where Desiree’s body was last night, and already, there’s no sign of it. No stains on the concrete, no smell of death, nothing. And yet, I can sense the insidious chill only the dead can bring.

I pick up my pace, and when I get inside, I stride to Sawyer’s office to let him know I’ll be escorting April—or,Naomi—back to my house.

I knock on the door. No answer.

I jiggle the knob to find it locked, then I roll my neck and wander toward the sitting room. The manor’s too big for me to guess where Sawyer may be, but there always seems to be someone hanging around that area. Sure enough, Cooper stands outside the door, leaning on a wall. He stares down at his phone and taps the screen, not appearing to notice when I walk up.

“Where’s Sawyer?”

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