Liberty Begins (The Liberty Series) Read online

  It felt strange to stand on the sidewalk in front of the airport, back in my city; the air was slightly humid and warmer than I’d expected. The quality of the air was the same as I remembered, though. It was different from Nevada and from Rhode Island — I couldn’t say how, but the air tasted like home.

  Home. I had such mixed feelings about this; on the one hand, I really did hate Ray, at least, as much as I was capable of hating another person. I knew he was a bad person who did not have remorse. I knew he didn’t love my mother and never mourned her; I also knew that if he could have managed to string me out and use me as his whore, he would have been delighted.

  John and I took our own cab. I let myself rest my head against him then, finally, and he exhaled in relief at my closeness. “It’s about a twenty minute ride to the house,” John said, throwing his arm around me. “Now that we’re alone, there’s some things we need to talk about.”

  I felt my body tense up. John must have felt it, too, because he stroked my hair, trying to calm me.

  “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” he said, calmly.

  “Everything?” I asked, and there was an edge of hysteria to my voice.

  “Everything,” he assured me.

  “First, we’re going to watch Ray tomorrow — to see if anything’s changed,” he said. “If we get the chance, we’ll just take him, but I’m not being that optimistic. We need to get our bearings.

  “Second, once we capture him, I’m going to let you direct our course. This is about you. I’m going to let you decide what you want to do with him,” he said, calmly. He sounded much more relaxed than I felt. “It’s going to be your decision. But I want you to know, I will do anything that you ask.”

  “The more violent, the better, right?” I asked. I sounded like I was joking, but I wasn’t. I remembered quite clearly what he’d said when I told him the whole story about Ray. John would be thrilled for the opportunity to issue him some physical justice.

  “Whatever you say, dear,” he said, deadpan. “Now also, I thought you might be curious about Darius. He’s on a plane back to Brazil, in a wheelchair, and Kevin’s trailing him.”

  “Are you okay with that?” I asked, genuinely curious. I still didn’t know what to make of the Darius situation. I didn’t know if he’d end up being helpful or not.

  “I’m happy to have some space from Darius,” John said, and laughed. “As you know, he’s not my favorite person. And Cruz and I are happy with anything that his return to society can provide us with: addresses, names, anything — even if it’s false, it’ll at least be something, and it might lead somewhere. In any event, it will be something more than what we have right now. Which is nothing.”

  “I’ve been thinking…” I said, and let my voice trail off. I had been thinking, all through our long flight, and before, this morning, back at the house. It was just such a crazy coincidence, and it had brought so much trouble down on all of us.

  “How is it possible,” I asked, slowly, unsure of quite how to proceed, “that you came to find me? It seems like there’s too many crazy circumstances —” I started to stammer and I sat up straight, accidentally knocking his arm off me, truly frustrated by my own inability to fully grasp the big picture. This was my life we were talking about, and I felt like I’d been out of the loop of it, out of the driver’s seat, for too long.

  “You were working for Cruz, and at the same time, your father wanted you to keep handling my father’s case,” I spluttered, letting the full incoherence of it wash over me.

  “Correct,” said John, calmly.

  “So you came to Vegas for Darius, and for me?” I asked, disbelieving.

  “Correct,” he said, calmly again. “Liberty, I’ve already told you all this.”

  It was true, but the full force of it was just hitting me. Maybe it was because now I knew about my father, or maybe it was because we were back here, so close to the end, and I just had to figure it out, once and for all.

  “But that’s just crazy,” I said, shaking my head. “My father, who I’ve never met, does business with your father? And you happen to be friends with one of the club owners where I work, across the country?”

  “Guilty as charged,” he said and shrugged.

  “How can this all be?” I asked, putting my head in my hands. Before I’d met him, I’d had nothing. Another sad image of me, alone at my chipped card table in Vegas, flashed before me and I winced. Now I had everything, more than I’d even bargained for.

  “You think it’s crazy,” John said, looking at me. He seemed slightly exasperated, like he was trying to explain something over and over again, as if to a small child. “I don’t see it that way at all.”

  I looked at him blankly. It was nuts. It was coincidence on top of coincidence.

  “It’s fate,” John said. “You still don’t see that?”

  I shook my head at him, no. That still seemed like crazy talk to me.

  “You want to know how I know? How I know for sure?” he asked. I nodded mutely, and he placed my hand over his thudding heart.

  “My father asked me for a favor when I was out in Vegas. I wasn’t thinking about it — I was totally focused on Cruz, on Darius. But you know what? The first night I met you, my heart stopped. I haven’t been the same since. You’ve changed me. You’ve changed my life. That’s how I know it’s fate. Because I love you. This,” he said, putting his arm around me once more, “was meant to be. It’s real. For me, anyway,” he said, and I actually heard a note of insecurity in his voice.

  “It’s real for me, too,” I said. I looked up at him.

  “It just seems too good to be true. Parts of it, anyway.” I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes. Home, I thought, and it had nothing to do with the city outside. I realized that I’d changed, too. Probably for good.

  “I love you so much,” I said, and buried my head in his chest. “I’m just so afraid.”

  “Don’t be,” John said, misapprehending me. “I’m right here.”

  * * *

  The house we’d rented was beautiful, of course. It was a split level, all done in neutral colors, immaculate and perfect. The master bedroom was on the bottom level, and several more bedrooms on the upper floor. The furniture was tasteful, expensive, and utterly forgettable.

  “We’re down here, away from the guys,” John said, whisking me down the stairs and throwing our bags down. “One of the perks of dating the boss.” He turned to me and gestured to the king-sized bed and the neutrally-tiled master bath beyond. “Get ready for bed and go to sleep,” he said. “We’re going to do surveillance on Ray tomorrow, early. I’m going to go meet with the guys, and then I’ll be down. We can sleep for about six hours.”

  I was looking forward to the sleeping part, at least.

  After he left I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I avoided my eyes in the mirror. I didn’t want to see what they looked like, given everything I was thinking.

  I put my pajamas on and crawled into bed. I instantly fell asleep; I dreamed I was on a beach with white sand, running. It should have been pleasant, but it wasn’t. The turquoise water beckoned, but a voice in my head kept yelling: run, RUN!

  I woke up with a start, sweat covering me. John mumbled something incoherently and rolled over in his sleep. I was glad I hadn’t woken him. He had enough to deal with.

  I made myself fall back to sleep. It was fitful, though, and I wasn’t surprised when I rolled over and looked at the alarm clock that it was already five am. I got up, showered, dressed, and headed up to the kitchen. I was looking for coffee, but I found Matthew instead. “It’s brewing,” he said in a groggy voice. “I promise.”

  “I hate today,” I said, grumpily, sitting down on the perfectly neutral leather couch. “I hate this couch, and I hate today.”

  “It’s understandable,” Matthew said, and he walked over in his sweats and tee shirt to sit on the equally neutral couch across from mine. “These couches are really ugly.”

&nbs
p; “Ha ha,” I said, and then just waited, not willing to talk anymore. I sat quietly and listened to the coffee brew.

  After it was ready Matthew poured me a cup without asking, with a lot of cream, just the way I liked it. “Thanks,” I said, gratefully. He sat back down opposite me.

  “Hey. How come you didn’t follow Darius to Brazil?” I asked. “I thought you were our resident Darius expert.”

  “I am,” Matthew said, thoughtfully. “But John thought I’d be more useful here.”

  I nodded at him and focused on my coffee. I needed it. Today was a big day.

  “How are you feeling about all this?” he asked, gently but curiously.

  “I just want it to be over,” I said, and it was true. “I don’t want to have to think about Ray ever again. I’ve made a serious hobby out of forgetting him.”

  Matthew nodded and drank his coffee. “It’ll all be over soon,” he said, soothingly.

  He was right but of course, I couldn’t be soothed.

  John came upstairs about ten minutes later. “Hello, my dear,” he said, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek. “Good morning,” he said, nodding to Matthew.

  “Ethan’s already out there,” John, said, in full-military mode. “He just called and said we needed to be ready to go in about ten minutes.”

  Matthew jumped up and headed upstairs. I sat there, on the couch, waiting for John to tell me what to do, what to feel. I’d gone totally numb.

  “Eat,” John said, and put a blueberry scone in front of me. He took my coffee cup and refilled it, careful to include the proper amount of cream. “Drink,” he said, and put it on the coffee table in front of me. I just sat there, eating and drinking and fidgeting.

  Ray. I was so, so close to seeing him again.

  John’s cell phone must have vibrated because he picked it up, looking at the number flashing on the screen. What happened to the cell phone he gave me, back in Vegas? I wondered randomly. We hadn’t been apart since then, so I hadn’t thought about it.

  “Yes,” said John, answering, and I knew it had to be Ethan. John listened for a minute and then hung up. He turned to me.

  “Let’s do this,” he said, and his voice was perfectly calm. “Go get your gun and meet me at the door.”

  I did as I was told, my heart pounding. I looked at the clock; it was just six am. I checked the chamber on my revolver. It was full. My hands shook as I put it under my shirt, at the small of my back, just like John had told me. I wasn’t sure why I had to bring my gun. I figured it was because John would want me to have it if we became separated, if I had to protect myself.

  I was waiting for him by the entrance to the house, my palms sweating.

  “Good girl,” John said, and he leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. It filled me with hope, with reassurance. The guys were behind him, filing out into the garage, looking at maps on their cell phones and not looking at us. They’d mastered it.

  “Let’s go,” John said. “Are you ready?”

  “Let’s just get this the hell over with,” I said, exasperated. “I can’t wait to never think about any of this ever again.”

  “Your chariot awaits, my lady,” John said, pointing out towards the garage.

  We drove past the university, into the seedy area near Eugene’s downtown. I hadn’t been here in a very long time, and I hadn’t missed it. It was still early enough that there were homeless people asleep on the street, and it hurt my heart to see them out there. My mother could have easily been one of them, if I hadn’t managed to somehow keep a roof over our heads.

  I wondered how many of them had been, or were, Ray’s clients.

  I knew I couldn’t blame Ray for everything, even though it would have been lovely to do so. My mother would still have been a junkie without him. So, the question was: what on earth was I holding him responsible for today?

  Tearing my family apart, I thought. I remembered hearing him having sex with my mother in the next room, when she was clearly out of her mind; I remember Sasha packing up and leaving, and then the image of him trying to stick a needle between my toes flashed in front of me. I pictured him holding my head down. I flinched. It made me sick. I was just a young girl, trying to stay afloat in a world that didn’t make any sense to me. There was nothing to prevent him from doing the same thing to another helpless girl, to any number of girls.

  But I could stop him, today. I just had to find the strength.

  We were driving in two cars, enormous sport utility vehicles that had been parked in the garage at the house. It must have been a rental equipped for every bounty-hunting need, I mused to myself, but I couldn’t find my thoughts at all humorous. I also couldn’t get used to the feeling of the gun against my back. I kept feeling myself sweat and it was slipping around. I could just picture us all, fanning out on the streets of downtown Eugene, chasing Ray on foot: the men in perfect formation, with me, stumbling alongside of them, sweating, worrying that I was going to shoot myself in the ass.

  John looked over at me and patted my fidgety knee. “Try to calm down,” he said. He checked a text message on his phone — actually, all the guys (except Corey, who was driving) checked their phones at the same time. Something was up.

  “Okay, pull over at the next block, on your right,” Matthew instructed, and Corey nodded silently, checking his mirrors. Eugene was still sleepy at this hour. There was little traffic out on the road and Corey had no problem pulling over behind the other car. John checked his watch and his cell phone again.

  “This is him,” said Robert, one of the guys I hadn’t really met. I felt my heart drop into my stomach. “Number 38. Third floor.” I saw him motion, almost imperceptibly, to a silver car parked across the street.

  “That’s Ethan,” John told me, gesturing towards the silver car. I nodded a little and continued to fidget. “He's been out here since we got in last night, doing surveillance. Ray came here after two a.m. and hasn’t left yet.”

  “Is this his mother’s place?” I asked, looking around, not recognizing the neighborhood.

  “No. We think it could be a friend’s, or a girlfriend’s,” John said. “We don’t know who’s inside, and that’s the problem. We don’t want to go in blind.”

  I nodded again, not really able to speak, anxiety bubbling like acid in my stomach. Suddenly the door to the building opened and there he was, live and in the flesh, wearing an aqua tank top, stonewashed jeans and a black backpack. Ray. My whole body went tense.

  He lit a cigarette as he walked. He squinted up at the sky. He appeared to not have a care in the world.

  “Grab him,” John said suddenly, and before I even knew what was happening, Matthew opened his door, sprung out and grabbed Ray in a headlock. John opened the back door and Matthew literally threw a struggling Ray across our laps.

  “WHAT THE FUCK?” Ray screamed, and in that moment, our eyes locked. I don’t know what on earth came over me, but I became unfrozen. I smiled at him. My real smile. It only lasted a moment, but comprehension dawned on his face — he recognized me.

  Sean was next to me, on my left. He’d been scrambling to get something out of his bag since we’d spotted Ray, but I hadn’t bothered looking; now he quickly held it out and I could see it was a black bag. He pulled it over Ray’s head in one fluid motion and pulled cords on it to secure it; simultaneously, John took handcuffs out, managed to push Ray on his side, crushing him up against me, and cuffed him. Ray kept screaming, over and over. “HELP!” he screamed. “SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP ME!”

  “No help is coming for you, Ray,” John said. His voice was deadly. He rolled Ray back over onto his back and punched him square in the gut. “UGH!” Ray shouted.

  John looked at him and shook his head, exasperated. “Shut the fuck up,” he yelled. Boom! He punched him in the face next, through the black bag, and then Ray’s body went still.

  Sean casually checked his pulse. “He’s fine,” he said banally, like he was commenting on the morning commute.

&nbs
p; My palms were sweating and my stomach was still roiling, but now it was like I was high. Adrenaline coursed through me.

  “Where are we going?” I asked John, lowly.

  “Someplace safe,” John said, squeezing my hand quickly and releasing it. He sent out a couple of quick texts and then leaned back, looking out the window, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

  It was less than five minutes when we pulled up to what appeared to be a deserted warehouse. I looked at John, questioningly, as he and I slid out from under Ray’s legs and got out of the car. John nodded to Matthew and he went into the back seat, with Corey close behind; they carried a limp Ray out and into the back of the warehouse. John, myself and Sean followed. I looked around wildly, petrified that someone was watching, that we could be caught. I could see the other SUV parked in a lot next door; when we walked in they were already inside, covering up any broken windows.