by Taylor Hart
Texas Waters inspired me, America, to trust myself more. And I know he’ll inspire you through his fresh music and lyrics that cut to the core of all human emotion.
He’s the Lone Star Cowboy of Country Music. And yes, I think that would make a perfect title for his next album.
He sucked in a huge breath and was even more keyed up.
“What happened between you and this reporter?” Montana looked baffled.
Texas’ hand began to shake. The article wasn’t just an article. It was a confession. “I … fell in love with her.”
All of the confusion of the past couple of weeks was stripped away.
Montana frowned. “You fell in love with her?”
Dropping the article, he got the text Montana sent and pressed the number for the Times.
Montana let out a chuckle. “What is this … a country song?” He frowned and cursed again. “And now the mother won’t run the article.” He shook his head. “Perfect.” Montana turned to him. “What did you do to her?”
Texas waved him away as someone answered his call.
“Hello.” The voice was quiet, controlled.
“This is Texas Waters, I’m looking for Liberty Wright.”
There was silence, then a sigh. “How dare you call here? I don’t know what happened between you and my daughter but she broke things off with her engagement, quit her job, and then left for that God forsaken place like a thief in the night.” Her voice cracked.
Speechless, he didn’t know what to say.
“I can’t lose her too.” She whispered.
Every part of him went into military mode. “Give me all the details, ma’am, and I’ll find her.” He would. He could feel it in his gut.
“How would you…” She coughed.
“I’ll find her and bring her home.” He stated, feeling more purposeful then he’d felt since he’d seen her. Dang, the woman was stupid … but she had broken things off with Hale and quit on her mother. He was proud of her! And pissed at her! Why would she go to Nigeria alone?
“I’m not running the article she wrote on you, so if this is about that … I’m not running that complete piece of fluff.” She sounded disgusted.
“This isn’t about that. This is about your daughter’s safety.”
She hesitated.
“Please, ma’am, help me bring your daughter back.”
“Fine.” She began telling him where she most-likely was. “She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts, but I’ve been working on my contacts. I had a text message from a reporter my husband used to work with and he said he saw her at the convention center earlier today.”
He rushed to get a pen and wrote the details down on the back of the article he’d dropped onto the floor. “I’ll keep you updated.” He hung up and rushed to the door.
“Wait.” Montana followed him out of the studio, across the deck, into the kitchen. “We need to talk about this tour.”
“I’m going to Nigeria.” A million thoughts whirled through his mind.
“What?” Montana followed him. “Stop!”
Texas turned back. “She’s in Nigeria.” He swore under his breath. “I need to go get her.”
Montana gave him an incredulous look. “Who?”
“The reporter.”
Montana cursed and shook his head. “The tour!”
Texas shook his head. “I’ll be back. Hopefully. But I have to go get her.”
Montana cursed again. “Is she in danger?”
Texas held his eyes. “I think so.”
Montana shook his head, a disgusted look on his face. “You’re really going there?”
Texas had never felt more certain about anything else in his whole life. “She’s reckless, I can’t let anything happen to her.”
Montana let out a round of sarcastic laughter. “Texas Waters, telling me someone is reckless, must be pretty bad.”
Texas grunted. “I don’t have a good feeling about her being there.”
Montana hesitated for a moment, whipped out his phone and pressed a button. “I’m calling in Hunter James to consult with you on this. He knows some guys, who know some guys.”
Chapter 21
Liberty walked around the UN conference center in Nigeria. It was swarmed with press and heads of state and guys carrying fully loaded machine guns to provide protection.
She’d dressed down here, taking to heart things Texas had told her. She couldn’t be a prissy princess. To help blend in, she copied many of the women reporters, pulling her hair back, wearing a dark scarf around her hair and putting on “reporter clothes.” Khaki shorts and a t-shirt. Things suitable for the heat. Even though some reporters were staying fashionable, she didn’t care about fashion. She cared about the story.
She knew her mother and Hale had people coming for her. She’d gotten roughly a hundred texts from each of them in the last three days. There were threats, promises, and now she was in an all-out war with her mother.
Liberty didn’t waste her time reading them all. She’d already had her passport and visa, and she’d had a couple of grand stashed aside, so she’d used it. In her mind, if she didn’t come here, she would regret it her entire life. She knew that. She wanted the hard story. She wanted to help people.
Her mind flashed to Texas, and she wondered if he’d seen the article she’d done on him. When she’d pressed send on the email to her mother, she didn’t know if her mother would use it or not.
She didn’t do it for her mother.
She did it for Texas.
It was kind of cheesy and a bit of a fluff piece, but it was real too. It covered Texas in a way he’d never been covered before, and she was proud of that.
Granted, she hadn’t given him veto power, but she knew she couldn’t talk with him. She couldn’t hear his voice again, or she might have never have come to Nigeria.
Not because of the same reasons of control and power struggle that her mother and Hale presented her with. Because … he made her feel free. Like she was flying. She could trust her own wings. The way he’d told her if she kissed him again, she better be ready to be his. He really was the last of the cowboys. The type of man you didn’t mess with. The type who was dangerous, and she was afraid of him in a way. Of knowing what it would feel like to allow him to possess her. The way it would feel to allow herself to possess him back. Because he would demand that. And every part of her wanted that on some level—to be with him. To enter his world and never, ever look back.
She remembered his words—do you know what happens to women like her in countries like that?
For the past two days, she’d stayed close to the conference and made it her priority to pick out the major players and delve into the issues. Clean water, relocation, jobs, and resources. What countries would accept more refugees? How would they control the Taliban? How would the Syrian crisis be stopped?
There were too many problems to solve. Being here, on the ground so to speak, she had more sympathy for the leaders. The problems truly were daunting. All of it came back to the fact there was a world-wide conflict of ideologies being pushed together.
Today, she needed a break from political rhetoric. She’d heard there was a UN camp less than twenty miles from the convention area, so she’d scheduled an Uber driver to take her there.
The drive was safe. When she got out, she had to show press credentials, but they let her into the camp when they saw them.
After she’d come back from South Carolina, she’d brought a translator with her. She wasn’t an idiot like Texas assumed. She did take precautions.
They delved into talking to the people, getting their stories. She asked questions and found out the people living in the camp had one thing in common—not much hope. Some of them had been living here for almost two decades, and they didn’t know how they would get out.
Liberty was immediately struck by the poverty, the women around campfires, doing laundry, cooking rice. The hodge-podge of clothes the people wore, clearly
leftovers from America because some children wore name brand clothes, but many times she would see two different brands of shoes on their feet.
It pained her. How had it come to this? How could these people have no country, no chance at life?
After several interviews, her translator went to an outhouse, and she stood on the sidelines of a soccer game.
What amazed her even more was the children still played and laughed. They used an old, worn ball that had turned brown. But it clearly didn’t matter to them. They lived as she imagined children everywhere lived—with laughter, taunting, and playing. That was heartening.
She blinked and wondered how to help them.
Before she could wonder too much, a cloth bag was shoved over her head, and she felt someone picking her up and holding his hand over her mouth in the bag.
She fought them, kicking and thrashing around. Feeling the hard metal of something against her ribs, she tried to thrash again. Then she felt the steel as it cracked onto her head. Everything went dark.
Chapter 22
As he got out of the Uber in Lagos, Nigeria, he was a bit overwhelmed by the size of the conference and the amount of people standing, or rather, swarming in front of him.
The car left, and Texas cocked a smile. At least no one cared about a country western singer here.
He’d taken an earful from Montana, but he’d promised he’d be back as soon as he could. Hunter James had used his contacts and there was supposed to be a guy meeting him at the hotel next to the conference center later this evening.
Texas looked up at the sky, it was already getting dark. He was filled with purpose. He strode to the front of the conference area. After a couple of conversations with the hotel staff, in which he claimed to be her fiancée, and the right amount of cold, hard cash to bribe the attendant, he had a copy of Liberty’s room key.
As he went to her room, he felt himself relax a bit, knowing he would hopefully see her soon. Yeah, she might be angry he was here, but what did she expect? She told her mother she loved him, then left the country? What’s he supposed to do?
He shook his head. Obviously, this was her version of “flying.” A string of curse words came softly out of his lips as he opened her room door and she wasn’t there. The first thing he noticed was her familiar smell.
Dropping his duffel bag, he looked around, observing it was pretty tidy. There wasn’t much except for her laptop on the desk.
Out of nowhere, he had that feeling. The one he got when his gut was telling him something. Holding completely still, he was prepared when a man burst out of her closet, rushing at him.
The man would have knocked him down but Texas pushed him to the side.
The guy scrambled to his feet and rushed for the door, Liberty’s purse dropping out of his hand.
Texas lunged for him, grabbing his shirt and throwing him onto the floor.
The man put his hands up. “I was looking for Ms. Wright. I am her translator.”
Texas wanted to punch the guy, but decided it would be better to get information. “What’s going on? Where is she?”
The man’s eyes darted back and forth. “They took her.” He swung his head from side to side. “I was with her, and I went away for one second, and now, she is gone.”
That’s all it took for all the adrenaline that had been lying right under the surface to bubble up. He took the man and picked him up, pressing his back against the wall. “Who took her and why were you taking her purse?” It didn’t make sense.
The man looked torn on whether he wanted to tell him or not.
Texas pressed him harder against the wall. “Talk!”
The man explained where they’d been, and how they’d been collecting interviews. Texas was already dragging him out the door, toward the elevator as he grilled him, demanding he take Texas to exactly where she’d last been seen. This was worse than he had thought. Fear spiked inside his heart. The things that could happen to her were unimaginable.
The man cringed. “I was taking her purse so I could show the authorities who she is.”
“You haven’t reported her missing yet?” Texas asked.
The man swung his head from side to side. “No.”
Chapter 23
Liberty woke to the sound of men’s voices and a huge headache.
Panic filled her as the smell of human stink hit her. Body odor, urine, and feces. She opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by four other women in a van. Some of them were knocked out like she’d been. Others were staring at her like they might eat her. They were so thin.
The refugee women. Being stolen and taken, where?
Every part of her started to tremble.
No. No. No.
Even though she no longer had the cloth bag over her head, her lips were duct-taped shut, and her wrists and feet were bound.
She tried to think clearly, to discern what was happening and how she could escape.
Without warning, the door to the van opened, and two men threw two more people inside. People who had been like her, out for the count.
One of the women who was awake began to whine through the tape on her mouth. Liberty saw the same terror in her face she knew was on her own.
Tears fell down the woman’s cheeks as she looked at the two new people.
Liberty tried to keep herself in check, not get too horrified. She knew being captured could be part of an assignment. It’d happened to her own father. Too bad the thought didn’t give her any comfort.
He’d been killed.
It was sweltering in the hot van, and she was so thirsty. She felt lightheaded, and the throbbing of her head was what kept her from passing out. What could she do? How was she going to get out of this?
The whole time she’d been in Nigeria, she’d been angry that nobody supported her being here, doing this story. At this moment, all her “prissiness,” as Texas would have called it, was erased. What was she going to do?
Tears were in her eyes, and she thought of all the horrible tragedies that happened to women. Plus, she was an American. She would be a prize. She knew this because she had read about it online. They could sell her to someone who would tie her up, treat her like a slave, and rape her several times a day.
All the things she’d felt passionate about, reporting atrocities that were happening to other people, might happen to her.
It got hotter and hotter. She didn’t know how long she had been in the van.
Unexpectedly, she felt the vehicle start. She heard the rumble of the motor, then felt the van move. It hurt to have it move, to stay in the position she was without balance. Every time the van turned or hit a bump or hole, she was pushed to one side or the other.
Edging herself back, she pushed against the van wall. It wasn’t less painful, but it was a bit more stable. Unfortunately, that didn’t account for when they would hit a bump and it would cause her to ram part of her body into the side.
More women were waking up, and the terror and horror inside of Liberty only grew. The questions were on repeat running around inside her head. What was she going to do? How could she escape? Her eyes fluttered and more tears fell. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about how Texas would give her a major chewing out. At this moment, she would welcome that because it would mean she survived and they were together.
It felt like the van drove forever. When it finally stopped, the doors were opened, and she and the other women were roughly unloaded.
It was dark but she could see the dirty, black skinned men. There was an evil look in their eyes, and she noticed a couple of them giving her the eye, talking to each other, and looking at her again. It disgusted and terrified her.
They pushed the mass of women into what seemed like a barn. Stalls lined the inside, and as she walked past, she saw cages filled with sickly, thin women.
She was shoved into one of the cages and found herself shoulder to shoulder with five other women in rags. Solemn, sad, and all of them with their hands bound
behind their backs.
More terror ripped through her. What was going to happen to her? More tears fell down her cheeks. She had always thought, imagined, that if something like this happened to her, she would fight. She would escape and help the others escape. A part of her had romanticized being some hero. She was an idiot.
It was dark now. After the men caged all the woman, the sound of crying and moaning increased until the men came by and kicked the cages, warning the women to be quiet.
Liberty lay in her metal cage, trying to get comfortable on the ground and find room amongst the other women. Trying to breathe slowly through her nose, she worked to stay calm. She would have to sleep. Her body needed to sleep if she was going to get through this.
She closed her eyes, and there he was. Texas. Tears streamed down her cheeks. The music began in her mind. His music. She went through his songs one by one, songs that were now part of her as she cried herself to sleep.
Chapter 24
Texas hadn’t slept, and he hadn’t let the dweeby translator go. Not on his life. He had told him he would pay him to help find her.
Texas had taken the translator with him to the hotel desk and reported Liberty as officially missing. Unsurprising, the hotel had called security and security had told him they would investigate as soon as they could.
Which meant pretty much never.
Hunter James’s man had been a no show. Texas had called Hunter and Hunter had insisted he would find someone to help him find her. But no one had come this morning and Texas wasn’t a wait around kind of guy.
Now, the translator sat in a car with Texas outside of the camp they’d visited the day before. Texas would make it worth the translator’s time, of course, after Liberty was found safe.
Texas knew they needed more information. Needed to find out who had taken her. Out of courtesy, he’d also called Liberty’s mother last night and told her she’d been taken.