Page 59 of Taming Liberty

She’s right when she says she isn’t safe there without me.

Then why do I feel so damn manipulated?

I turn to look at Lib. She’s staring out the same window as I was, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“I’m sorry,” I say, blowing out some of my anger.

She lifts a shoulder in an almost violent manner. “I get it, you don’t want me here.”

“It’s not that.” I flex out my hand on the armrest again as I try to think of a way to explain it.

Of course I don’t want her here. But it isn’t because she’s not important to me.

“This is stressful enough as it is without having to worry about you,” I settle on.

She looks at me, her jaw tight. “Are you saying you wouldn’t have worried about me if I was alone for an indeterminable amount of time with men who would simultaneously fuck and kill me given the chance?”

“Sawyer would never let—”

Lib holds up her hand to cut me off. “Don’tfinish that sentence. At one time, that’s exactly what Sawyer said he wanted to do to me.”

“Let me ask you something,” she goes on, leaning toward me. “If you’d been away the night I tried to get to a phone, do you think Sawyer would have stopped and gotten your permission to kill me like he very openly wanted to?”

“He had no idea what you meant to me back then, and if you would stop insisting on making waves, you would have nothing to worry about. You’re the one putting yourself in danger, so please stop with the woe-is-me bullshit.”

She groans with frustration. “Do you hear yourself? Normal people don’t enslave and kill others. The fact that you would leave me around those people, even for a minute, is putting me in danger. Victim blame all you want.”

“Since when did I stop being one of ‘those people?’”

She opens her mouth but lets her jaw hang, either considering her words or unsure of what she’ll say. She must not figure it out because she closes her mouth and turns toward the window again.

The irritation I haven’t been able to shake since she started falsely threatening what would basically be suicide eases as I stare at Lib’s frustrated and somber expression.

She’s right. I hate admitting that, and I wish this entire thing was easier than it is, but she’s right. I like to believe I can protect her, but I’ve put her in danger by allowing her onto the island in the first place. I’m certain her begging me to kill her was nothing but a desperate plea… But what if I’m wrong? What if she was serious? How could I ever take that chance?

What if she threatens it again or takes matters into her own hands? Is there a breaking point that could push her to commit suicide?

No. No, she wouldn’t.

Am I taking a chance?

Lib glances at me, then goes back to the window. “I’m not trying to cause you any more stress. I just didn’t want you to leave me.”

I let a few seconds pass while I watch her and search for answers to my questions. I find none.

“I know,” I eventually tell her. “I didn’t want to leave you either… I’m glad you’re here.”

She snorts. “No, you’re not.”

My lips lift with a flutter of amusement. “Okay, I’m not. But at least I know you're safe.”

She flicks her gaze to me, then back to the window. When she sits up and leans toward the window, I follow her line of sight to the city below.

Madrid.

Home.

I lean back in my seat and close my eyes, mentally preparing myself for what’s to come. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.

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