Liberty

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Liberty Page 22

by Kirsty Dallas


  “The only way that door could be accessed was from the inside. Either someone inside the barracks unlocked it and attacked Douglas, or someone from outside coaxed their way inside. My theory is the latter, and I’m pretty sure I know who it was.”

  “Who?” I demanded.

  “Take a look for yourself.”

  We had entered a small room, the bed pushed up against the furthest wall, allowing the space around the windows to be free of furniture. Axel was peering out a curtain, his fists shaking, his face pale. The tension wafting from Isaac, Ethan and Niall was stifling as they moved aside so I could position myself to the side of one window.

  Stepping cautiously toward the covered glass, I nudged the curtain back and found the bright spotlights that Jebediah used to light up his fighting arena now directed at us. That didn’t surprise me, he had them dragged into position on our first night here. What did surprise me was the large presence of militia standing around the front of the building. There had to be at least thirty, maybe closer to forty men out there, all armed and looking hostile but also confident, some of the men smiling and laughing.

  My gaze caught on a small group who had pulled away and gathered closer to the building. Jebediah stood out like a ghost dressed in black, a long trench coat ending at mid-calf was pushed open, showing off those flashy guns he used, holstered to either side of his ribs. Jeze stood beside him, dressed much the same, minus the trench coat.

  The movement behind the crazy two siblings caught my eye, and my breath became trapped in my throat as it squeezed shut. Shock rendered me completely speechless. Skye was being held between two men, struggling and growling like a feral animal. It was the woman several feet to her side that held my full and undivided attention though.

  Gracie.

  My Gracie.

  She was being held in a brutal grip by Dozer, his meaty arm across her stomach and under her breasts pinning her arms in place, his other hand at her throat. She wasn’t struggling, though. Instead she was glaring with a hatred I’d never seen on her face before. I followed her line of sight and found the object of her visual daggers.

  Trigger.

  Motherfucking Trigger!

  He was smirking at her, arms crossed over his chest looking as happy as a fucking pig in shit as he stood with Jebediah and his men. Standing with them, which meant he was standing against me. My fists curled, and my nostrils flared with a sudden, deep inhale. I wanted to kill him, with my bare fucking hands. I wanted to charge down there and annihilate them all. I wanted to shred Dozer to pieces and savor the feel of his warm blood coating my hands. What I wanted to do, and what I needed to do, were so completely at odds with each other that my hands shook with a heady mixture of fear and fury.

  “My guess is Trigger knocked on the fire escape door. Douglas would have let him in without question, any of us would. He was one of ours. He found Grace and Skye and either fed them a load of bullshit, or forced them to march right outside and into the arms of our enemy.”

  Was this because of the drugs?

  Or something deeper and more sinister?

  Was Trigger our traitor?

  Questions bounced around my mind until my gaze settled once again on Gracie who flinched at the grip Dozer had on her throat. It didn’t matter why Trigger had done what he had. He’d betrayed me, betrayed Gracie and Skye, which made him my enemy. Reaching for the latch, I unlocked the window and pushed it open. Taking a deep breath, I sunk into a place which felt almost like a numb void. This was where I buried emotions and kept myself cool and calm. In this dark place, I made the hard decisions and didn’t let my feelings get in the way.

  Gracie’s eyes met mine, and even from here I could see the fear hidden beneath the layers of anger. I wanted to absorb that fear, take it into my body and burn it into flames.

  “Well, hello there,” came Jebediah’s jovial voice from the snow below. “I fear you may have misplaced something.” His smirk grew into a haughty grin as his hands pressed to his hips, his feet positioned wide. He was a man of confidence, knowing he had the upper hand, and fuck if that didn’t burn my pride. This crazed bastard was always one step ahead, and I was done. Beyond fucking done, he was going to die.

  “Misplaced isn’t the word I would use,” I said, pushing the curtain further aside and standing directly in front of it, showing him I wasn’t scared. There was nothing to stop his militia from shooting me, but I knew they wouldn’t. Jebediah liked his games and killing me right now would end things too fast for his liking. In fact, keeping me alive was pertinent to his plan of using Gracie against me. Jebediah let out a bark of laughter, rubbing his hands together.

  “Are we going to argue over words, Ink?” Jebediah arched a pale brow my way. “Words, words, words, I’ve got lots words. How about… blood?” The silence that followed whispered the promise of violence. That dreadful silence was interrupted by a scream of agony as a man stepped up to Skye and dragged the blade of a knife down her cheek. Red blossomed on her face, quickly dripping down her chin and onto her pale blue jumper.

  Axel growled and turned to leave the room. Isaac, and Ethan jumping on his back to stop him and taking him to the ground where he continued snarl like an animal, thrashing about as he tried to gain his freedom. I couldn’t let him blindly run out of the building, not without a plan. Jebediah wasn’t about to release Skye or Gracie, and if Axel made it out there, it was just another person to use against me. Gracie yelled and swore at the men who held Skye, but was mostly ignored by the men who surrounded her. The sick fucker with the knife, a greasy haired, scarred up brute leaned forward and licked the tears that fell down Skye’s cheeks. She recoiled, calling him every name under the sun.

  “Here’s another one,” Jebediah shouted. “Pain!”

  The soldier turned to face Gracie.

  “You ugly son of a bitch,” my girl growled. “Touch me and I will fuck you up.”

  He just laughed. Dozer grappled with Gracie for a moment before securing her wrist in his, then forced it out in front of them. My hands rose to the sill of the open window, my fingers curling over the edge.

  “Niall?”

  “I’ve got a clean shot.”

  He was positioned at a second window in the room, sniper rifle ready, his eye watching down the scope.

  “Take it!”

  Before Niall could caress the trigger of his high-powered rifle, Gracie’s gut-wrenching scream filled the night air. Blood splattered her face as the soldier who stood in front of her collapsed to the ground, the hole in his head precise. Her finger had been broken, snapped like a twig and sitting awkwardly. Her pain stole my breath.

  “That’s not how we’re playing this game,” Jebediah bellowed. Addressing Dozer, the big man smiled before pulling out a handgun and resting it against Gracie’s temple.

  “You try something like that again, and the little bird will be the one with splattered brains.” Jebediah signaled to another of his soldiers who stepped forward. “Now, where were we,” he continued. “Ahhh, yes… the word game. Here’s another I think you will like. Brutality.”

  Skye bellowed loudly as the new soldier stepped forward and punched her in the stomach followed by a quick strike to the face which dulled her screams to despairing moans. The men surrounding me shifted with pent-up rage, while Axel was held steadily against the wall, roaring at the sound of Skye’s abuse. The abuse Jebediah was forcing us to watch was meant to break us. In my case, it did nothing of the sort. It motherfucking built me. My rage was a palpable beast I was ready to unleash.

  “Games are for children, Jebediah. Grow up and tell me what the fuck you want,” I growled, my voice an animalistic snarl.

  “You know what? I really like our word game.” Jebediah grinned, his eyes full of wild retribution. “This one is my personal favorite… death.”

  “Boss?” Niall asked. He was still watching through his scope, our enemy’s death a simple stroke of the trigger away. But Dozer had the gun on Gracie, if Niall took anoth
er shot they might follow through on their threat to kill her, or she might be about to die anyway. Conflict twisted my guts.

  The man who had punched Skye moved and my gaze flew to Gracie, watching, assessing, trying to figure out what was going to happen next. But it wasn’t Gracie I needed to be worried about, it was Skye, whose pained moans were silenced as a large, gleaming hunting knife was plunged deep into her stomach.

  The room seemed to shrink.

  The air sucked away.

  The sound muted.

  He’d killed her.

  Axel was practically hyperventilating, not sure what had happened from where Ethan continued to pin him to the wall, but somehow knowing it was bad. Gracie screamed and screamed, the sound one that would stay with me until my dying day.

  “I do believe I won the war of words,” Jebediah declared while stroking the collar of his trench coat. “Such a shame, all that dark flesh did tempt me.” The man sighed with disappointment as he turned his back on Skye’s unmoving form lying in the snow.

  My hands shook with rage, my breaths came in short, sharp bursts and my entire world had drawn to one single spot of clarity.

  Tonight, I would kill Jebediah.

  It would inevitably lead to my own ruin, but it didn’t matter, as long as that crazy fuck stopped breathing air.

  “And now I have a beautiful bird my men are dying to fuck, Ink. All of them…” He swept his arm around the large contingency of militia. “Can you just imagine the mangled lump of flesh she’ll be once they’ve finished with her? I’ll have her first, of course. I’m not one for sloppy seconds… or thirties.”

  “I challenge you for her. I challenge them all, for her. I’ll fight for Gracie,” I said without hesitation.

  Jebediah’s eyes crinkled as he grinned. “Tell you what, Ink, I’m feeling in a generous mood tonight, and I want a grand show, not a motherfucking five-minute execution where your heart’s ripped from your chest before we even get to the good stuff.” Jebediah tucked his hands behind his back, pulling the lapels of his coat wide open to give me a better view of those huge guns he had holstered. “How about three fights? And if you win, I’ll give you back your Grace.”

  He pointed to one of his men. “Bricks.” A stocky man with wide shoulders and thick legs stepped forward. I had a good five inches on him, but the way he stood tall and still, his shoulders pressed back, and the familiar military fatigues told me this man was a soldier through and through. He would have discipline and skill.

  “Sawyer,” Jebediah continued, pointing to another man who stepped forward. This one was lean and tall, wearing his hair in some sort of faux Mohawk, definitely not a military issued style. He still stood like a soldier though, his head held high, feet shoulder-width apart and hands behind his back.

  “And for the grand finale, assuming you make it that far, Jezebeth.” Jebediah ended his speech with a sly smile.

  My gaze swung to Jeze who stood a few feet behind him. She stood tall and confident, not at all surprised she was selected to fight me.

  “If Bricks and Sawyer don’t kill you, Jeze has the choice to finish you or force your submission. Be warned though, Ink, submitting means you will be her bitch, indefinitely. And your bird… she will be mine.”

  CHAPTER 27 - Grace

  The turbulent anger and crippling fear that surged through my veins almost overshadowed the pain from my hand. My finger was bent in a way that made my stomach roll with nausea. I was shaking like a leaf in the harsh winter winds, my consciousness being teased by black spots threatening to take me away from this horror. I’d been walking through the second floor with Skye, talking about our concerns over the dwindling supplies when Trigger had suddenly appeared. Skye had been ready to run again, when Trigger’s frantic gaze caught mine and he said three words that made my stomach drop, “they’ve got Ink.” I followed him blindly, and Skye followed me. We walked right out of the building and into the waiting arms of the enemy, and Trigger had been the one to hand us over. I felt so stupid, cursing myself for trusting him. That betrayal stung. Not only was Trigger one of us, but he was a soldier, a man who swore to protect Liberty and its inhabitants. He was a friend.

  And now Skye was dead.

  If I hadn’t followed Trigger and put my faith in a traitor, Skye would be alive.

  A sob wrapped around my throat, forcing it tight as I held back my tears. I didn’t want to give Jebediah the satisfaction of seeing me broken. The monster of a man at my back began to unwrap his bulky arms from my body. Dozer, the same asshole who won Hadley. Who raped Hadley. A shudder wracked my body as his hand groped my breast before he pushed me away with a snicker. My knees gave way under the heavy weight of grief, but not a single tear slipped free.

  Skye’s lifeless eyes looked through me as her blood stained the white snow crimson. I couldn’t look away, regardless of how macabre the scene was. It was an image which would scar its way into my heart, remembered forever, the moment I’d been unable to save my friend. My best friend.

  A pair of dirty black boots blocked my view, and I followed the legs to find the owner glaring at me. His smirk from moments ago gone, now replaced with anger and frustration. “This could have gone differently if you and Skye had left when you could. You fucked up, Grace. You could have been safe in the cave far away from here, but your disobedient, stubborn ass had to fight me.”

  “You betrayed your own people,” I spat out. My thoughts couldn’t fathom how Trigger had gone from friend to foe so fast.

  “Not my people,” he murmured, a shaking hand tugging at the long strands of his unruly hair.

  “You’re a soldier of Liberty. You swore to protect.”

  “Nope, I was a rebel soldier. Trust me, baby, I had no plans of becoming a babysitter. I only stayed because of Ink. I would have been gone the minute we dropped you off if it wasn’t for him. That whipped fuck refused to leave and all because he was lusting over some pre-pubescent pussy.”

  “So you what?” Incredulity made my temper fray. “You thought you’d betray Liberty because you didn’t get your way? Like some spoiled child you decide to fuck us over?”

  Trigger moved so fast I didn’t have time to protect myself. His fist connected with my face in a sickening slap of flesh, the power of his attack throwing me back on my ass in the snow. Without thinking, I reached out to catch my fall with my bad hand and pain radiated through my body, wrenching a scream from my throat. Rolling over, I threw up, before flopping to my back and staring into the black, starless sky above.

  Those familiar eyes I’d once laughed with hovered above me.

  “Liberty would be fine if Ink would just do as he was fucking told.” Trigger sunk to his haunches beside me. “Jebediah would have gotten what he wanted and moved on, and we would have made some money for ourselves in the meantime. These deaths weren’t meant to happen. They are on Ink’s soul. It’s his fucking fault all this has gone to shit.”

  Refusing to be intimidated by him, I struggled to sit, forcing Trigger to move out of my space as I wiped the vomit from my lips. Standing, he took a small step away, disgust curling his lip. Sucking in a lungful of air I glared at him, hoping he could see my own palpable loathing. “Let me get this straight.” I winced, my cheek throbbing with my pulse. “You made a deal with the devil, and it’s Ink’s fault that deal has gone to shit.”

  Trigger snarled in my direction, lunging forward to attack me again, a response which still shocked me, even knowing he had betrayed us. His assault was stopped with a single word from Jebediah.

  “Traitor,” he yelled.

  Trigger paused, his face filled with crazed fury and his hands curled and ready to pound my flesh.

  “I let you touch her once because it humored me to see Ink’s face as you hit her, but if you touch her again, I will kill you.” Trigger didn’t move, the tension in his body barely restrained as he fought whatever inner demons had taken over his mind. “Your usefulness is quickly drawing to an end and if you can’t obey my sim
ple commands then I will have no reason to keep you.”

  Glancing over Trigger’s shoulder, I watched the grin light up Jebediah’s face, his teeth tugging and playing with the ring in his lip.

  “I have a feeling the little bird would like to see that. What do you think, Grace? Would you grow wet for me like you do for Ink if I offered you his heart?”

  “Fuck you,” I snapped.

  The men around me laughed and murmured while Jebediah watched on. Suddenly, he pulled a bottle of water from the hands of one of his men and threw it at me. Dodging the projectile, it landed at my side.

  “Clean out your mouth, I don’t want my cock covered in vomit when you blow me later tonight.” Dismissing me, he turned back to face the barracks, and I reached for the bottle. Not because I was worried about my vomit breath, and definitely not because my lips would be anywhere near his dick, ever, but because I was desperately thirsty. My lips were cracked and dry, my throat parched and raw. Swallowing deeply, I drank the bottle dry before tossing it back to the ground.

  With much reluctance, Trigger took a few backward steps before tearing his gaze from mine and melting away into the shadows. Dozer glanced my way, a leer on his ugly face. Fuck him! Fuck all of them. They were so confident they had us beat, but as a loud bang sounded from the front of the hospital, a small smile grabbed the corner of my lip and lifted it into a knowing smirk.

  Ink strolled through the doors with the casual grace of a deadly predator, his head held high, his stride long and purposeful and the promise of death in his eyes. The door slammed shut behind him, keeping that barrier of safety between Jebediah and Liberty. Ink kept coming forward until he stood but a few feet before our enemy, not a shadow of fear to be found on him. Face your enemy, show no fear. He didn’t utter a single word, he simply stood proud and tall, glaring defiantly at the men before him. In his silence, Ink was screaming vengeance. The look he wore was one I’d never forget, the same dark, ruthless aggression he carried into the Underworld to free the people of Liberty, to free me. It was confidence, it was acceptance, it was pure, unadulterated wrath.

 

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