Page 56 of Taming Liberty

Oh no.

I back up several steps as a ball of sludge sinks down my throat until it sits heavily in my chest.

“Estaré allí esta noche,” he says just before hanging up the phone.I’ll be there tonight.

He puts his phone in his swim trunks, then blows out a breath as he looks out at the ocean.

I slowly walk toward him, ready to offer comfort, but before I make it there, he turns. I don’t know for sure what that phone call was about, but I have an idea. I question whether I’m right when I make out Angel’s hardened expression. Hardened. Not sad or pained.

“We need to head back to the house,” he says, his monotone voice bordering on robotic.

He strides past me, his lips set in a firm line.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, hurrying to keep up.

He doesn’t answer.

“Angel?”

“Everything’s fine.” He veers from the beach to hike up the hill.

“You’re leaving, though?”

Again, no answer.

“Please, can you tell me what’s going on?” I pant, already out of breath from the fast pace up the hill. I don’t know if it’s the elevation here or what, but these hikes take my breath away. The cortisol trickling through me isn’t helping.

Angel ducks beneath a branch, then pulls his phone out. His fingers fly over his screen without him ever slowing down, walking so fast that we’re almost to the house by the time he puts his phone away.

“Angel,please.” I grab his hand and dig my heels into the earth to stop him before he can get inside. He turns to look at me, his face stone-like. I let go of his hand. “You’re scaring me.”

He stands unmoving for a second, but then his face relaxes a hair. His nostrils widen as he sucks in a deep breath then blows it out.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I’m not trying to scare you. There’s an issue with one of my business ventures, and I’m going to have to take care of it in person… I’m sorry, I’m not sure when I’ll be back, so you’ll need to stay at the manor while I’m gone.”

“Your business venture?” I ask. “Angel, come on, you don’t have to lie to me.”

He turns to head inside the house, and I let him go, watching his back while my heart sinks. I don’t know that his refusal to let me in will ever stop hurting.

After a minute, I go inside and find Angel throwing clothes into a suitcase. A lot of clothes.

“You don’t know when you’ll be back?” I ask, my voice low.

He ignores me as he retrieves a travel bag, already stocked with hygiene products, from the closet. He tosses it in the suitcase.

“I’m not going back to the manor.” My heart stutters as panic begins to build, and I rub my sweaty palms against my thighs. “I’ll stay here.”

“I can’t leave you here by yourself until I know how long I’ll be gone… You’ll be a guest at the manor, not a whore. You don’t have to work.”

“I don’t care. I’m not going.”

Angel zips the suitcase then stands, turning around to face me. “I don’t have time for this, Lib. I’m sorry. A guard is on the way to pick you up now, so if there’s anything you need to take with you, get it.”

“No.”

He walks to the closet and changes into slacks and a button-down shirt. Every second that ticks by feels like a missed opportunity to say something to make him slow down.

The longest he’s ever been away from me was a week, and it was one of the loneliest of my life. He let me stay here then, so just how long does he think it’ll be this time?

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