Liberty At Last (The Liberty Series)

by James, Leigh

  “It’ll be easier than you think,” John said. He started packing his gear up and I dutifully followed suit, even though the knot was back in my stomach, heavier than ever.

  “When was the last time they talked?” I asked, wondering about Darius and Cruz.

  “I don’t know,” John said. “I think it may have been over a year ago. When Cruz left the business, they had a huge falling out. Then I think the only communication they’ve had are threats. Cruz hired us after that. As far as I know, they’ve cut off all communication.”

  I’d still never met Cruz, but if he was anything like his brother, he had to be at least a little scary. And stubborn. “Is there any way we can try to get them to talk? Before we all just start killing each other, I mean?” I asked. It was a simplistic question, but really, I was dealing with all men here. I’d noticed that men — particularly these men, and the ones we were here for, who all had big muscles and big guns — had a tendency to skip the talking part. They liked to just get to the action part. So they could use their big muscles and their big guns.

  I thought about Ray. When we were getting ready to catch him, I’d wanted nothing more than to hurt him, the way he’d hurt me. I had an idea in my head that it would cure me. That hurting him would make my hurt go away. Once we got him and I talked to him, I hated him as much as I ever did. But hearing what he had to say made me realize that hurting him was never going to help me. There are some wrongs you can’t undo. But as my mother used to say, when Sasha and I were little and fighting — back when she was intermittently sober enough to still talk straight: two wrongs don’t make a right.

  I didn’t think that logic would get us anywhere with Darius, or with Cruz, for that matter. But couldn’t we try to get them to talk? Before they ended each other?

  “You want them to talk?” John asked, not looking at me as he strapped one of his guns on. I could hear it in his voice. He thought I was nuts. “Even after they’ve tried to kill each other multiple times? You think that talking might help?”

  “Yes,” I said. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try. I could at least buy some time before the shooting started. Maybe I could come up with a Plan B before that, so I could put off the bloodshed for a while longer.

  “Liberty, I am in charge here, and I don’t think trying to get Cruz and Darius to have a sit-down is either reasonable or a very good idea. We need to just end this,” he said. “They hate each other. They want to kill each other, and it’s been this way for a long time. I don’t think any purpose is going to be served by them having tea,” he said, scoffing.

  “I just thought we could try,” I said, my voice sounding full of tears. “Once you’re dead, you’re dead — you don’t get a chance to talk after that. What’s wrong with at least making an effort?” I sounded like a whiny child to my own ears, but I couldn’t bear the idea of just shooting Darius at first sight. He couldn’t be all bad.

  “You know I won’t say no to you,” John said, looking at me unhappily.

  “I know,” I said, and smiled at him sweetly, hating myself for how manipulative I was being. Means to an end, I told myself. Less violence is good less violence, I thought, or something like that.

  “This isn’t going to go over well with Cruz,” he said.

  “So don’t tell him,” I said, and shrugged. “Just don’t let him shoot Darius and don’t let Darius shoot him. Stick them both in a room — supervised, of course — and make them talk.”

  “You really think that’s going to accomplish something?” John asked. He’d gone from looking unhappy to looking resigned.

  “I consider it part of our due diligence,” I said. “I’m part of the team, right? So my vote should count for something.” I wouldn’t normally be so manipulative, but people were about to get shot at. John was about to get shot at. I’d play any card I had.

  “Of course your vote counts,” John said. “But I can’t promise anyone’s going to be happy about it.”

  Matthew had done a complete perimeter scan. Jake had checked the interior for any sort of devices. The club was clean, so far. John was getting texts from Corey. Cruz was on his way and Kevin was watching the house. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. Calm before the storm quiet. Even though it was at least 65 degrees, I was shivering. It was the adrenaline coursing through my body.

  We were out back, near the dumpsters, just as John had promised. Jake was inside now, acting as a bouncer, watching for Darius or anything else unusual. “Cruz’ll be here in a few minutes,” John said, walking back. “I’m going into the club. Out back in the changing room, where I can’t be seen. Liberty, you’re with me.”

  “Of course,” I said, following him into the staff entrance. It was so weird to be back, to go through the familiar door. But I didn’t have to go out and dance tonight, and that was a relief. Except for the fact that there was probably going to be some shooting. Not as much relief when I put it that way.

  “They’re probably going to be surprised to see you,” John said. “Try to keep it on an even keel. They don’t know why we’re here. They just know we’re extra security.”

  “Okay,” I said, as we went down the hallway towards the locker room. Alex’s office was first; John knocked on the open door and Alex looked up from his computer.

  He looked the same: spray-on tan, overly whitened teeth, jeans that were preternaturally distressed. “Hey,” he said, recognizing John immediately. “Hey,” he said, and stood up when he saw me. “Liberty? You’re back! Does this mean you’re back?”

  John stepped slightly in front of me. Alex was tall, but John was taller, bigger. I could feel hostility rolling off him in waves.

  “She’s not ever coming back. Not like that,” he said, and Alex, used to dealing with violent, drunken patrons and lord knew what else, composed his expression immediately.

  “Of course not,” he said, peering at me over John’s shoulder. “Civilian life looks like it’s treating you good, though,” he said, his eyes shifting to John briefly. “It’s nice to see you. The girls will be happy you’re checking in. We were all wondering what happened to you.”

  “It’ll be good to see them,” I said, leaning up on my toes so I could see his face. John didn’t move and inch, he just clenched his fist; maybe the whole stripping thing bothered him more than he’d let on, or maybe Alex just seemed so sleazy to him that he didn’t want him near me. In any event, I was happy that we were going to see the girls. John seemed like he wanted to punch Alex, just for the hell of it, or just because Alex had seen me naked and was now attempting to talk to me. I knew a hostile John when I saw him.

  “Let’s go,” I said, grabbing his hand.

  “We’re going to use the locker room for interior security,” John said to Alex, jerking his thumb in that direction down the hall. “Cruz will be here in a minute. Tell him we’re in there, please.”

  Alex nodded, his gaze flicking to me one last time. “Sure,” he said. “If I don’t see you, take care, Liberty,” he said. “You’re one of our success stories. Something to tell the other girls about.”

  I heard John sigh as I pulled him down the hall; I knew that look on his face. “He’s harmless,” I said. “He never touched me. Forget about it.”

  “I don’t want a man like that looking at you, or talking about you,” he said. The hand I wasn’t holding was still clenched into a fist.

  “We’re done with him,” I said. “We’re walking away from him and his bad jeans, forever.” He sighed again and I stopped, putting my hands on my hips. “You need to stop wanting to punch and shoot so many people,” I said. “It’s macho, and that’s hot and all, but it’s exhausting. You need an outlet.”

  He pulled me up against him, and I could feel all six feet and two inches of his tall, muscled body pressing against mine. “You’re my outlet,” John said. “I’m going to be needing that hot body of yours every day, several times a day, for the rest of my life. Maybe then I’ll calm down a little.”

  “Deal,” I sq
ueaked. I felt a piercing need between my legs, wanting him again, but I had to get a grip. “Later,” I said, grabbing his hand again. “I promise.” I pulled away from him; we had other business we had to take care of first.

  We went through the doors to the locker room and the normal chatter stopped. “Hey, no men in here!” one of the girls yelled, and then, after she looked at John for a second, she seemed to change her mind: “We’ll make an exception for you, baby!” she called. Some of the other girls hooted and hollered.

  “Yeah, we’d love you to stay!” one of the other girls said and came up to him, seductively. I didn’t know her, and she wasn’t wearing anything besides a thong and a boa.

  “Now girls — ” John said, playfully, but then I stepped in front of him.

  “Behave!” I said, and I saw several mouths drop open at the sight of me. There were maybe fifteen girls in there, some of whom I’d never seen before. But there was Tracey, Adriana, Keisha and Nina, all staring at me with their mouths hanging open.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Tracey said. “Liberty?” She hustled over to me, wearing what appeared to be a gold monokini with nipple cutouts, and embraced me roughly. “Girl, we thought you were dead somewhere! Or shackled up as a love slave,” she said, peering past me to look at John. “Not that that would be the worst thing that could happen to you!” The rest of the girls came up and hugged me, alternately telling me that I looked too skinny and that John was wicked hot.

  “So what’re you doing here?” Nina asked. “You missed us? Tired of your hot man?” She winked at John and he smiled back at her, warmly, until he saw the frosty look on my face. Nina was gorgeous, and she was only wearing a filmy peignoir and a brooch necklace. He stopped looking at her and smiled at the wall, instead.

  “We’re here on assignment,” I said. “John runs a security company. He’s doing some work for a client down here.” I felt guilty for not telling them the client was Cruz, but I didn’t want to jeopardize things. Besides, that guilt paled in comparison to how bad I felt about keeping the real truth from them all: that there could be a bomb threat shortly, or a shootout, or some combination thereof.

  “We’re here tonight because there could be trouble,” John said, speaking more openly than I thought he would, still looking at the wall. “I want you all to know that we have guys outside and guys inside. But if you hear anything, or anything gets weird, get back in here and lock the door. Then barricade it.”

  They were talking to each other in worried tones. I tried to get their attention. “I promise, you guys — John and his men are the best. They know what they’re doing. He knows I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I said, and my voice hitched a little.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to any of you. I promise,” John said. “And I’m not going to look at you, either,” he said, still appraising the wall. They all laughed.

  A man with reddish-brown skin and collar-length, shiny black hair poked his head in the door. “John,” he said. “Ladies,” he added, nodding at them.

  Cruz at last, I thought. John turned to me. “I’m going to talk to him. Stay here,” he said, squeezing my hand.

  As soon as the door was closed, the girls went crazy with me, looking for all sorts of information. Please tell me you finally had sex — that man is gorgeous! they said. Where are you living? Is he rich? What kind of car does he have? Where are you staying?

  When I told them about the suite at the Byzantine, they went wild. Do you love him? Are you working for him? Are you ever coming back here?

  “Yes, I love him. And I’m working for him right now. I don’t know what I’m going to do about that in the future. But I’m not coming back to Vegas,” I said. I didn’t tell them about the engagement, his mansion on the ocean, his infinity pool or anything else. It felt too showy just to tell them about the hotel. Money wasn’t something I’d ever been comfortable discussing, and that was especially true now, when it wasn’t even mine.

  “Liberty,” said Adriana, flicking her fake ponytail around, “you haven’t told us the most important thing. Did you give it up to him?”

  I stood there for a minute, blushing from my head to my toes.

  “Did you see him?” I finally squealed. “He’s smokin’ hot! Of course I slept with him! What are you, crazy?”

  They all laughed, hooted and hollered. “Finally!” Tracey cried. “Christ! The only virgin stripper to ever live in Vegas.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Strippers can’t be virgins,” I said, still blushing. “It’s just wrong.”

  “So happy for you,” Tracey said as she hugged me. She pulled back and wiped underneath her eyes so her mascara didn’t run. “You were always too nice to be back here with the rest of us sluts.”

  “You are not a slut,” I said, taking her hands. “Keisha is, but you’re totally not!”

  We laughed again and Keisha came up and fake-smacked me. “Thank god you finally got some and loosened up a little,” she said and hugged me. “I used to worry about you too much.”

  “I’m good,” I said. “I’m happy. And it’s good to see you all.” I hope we can keep you safe, I thought, and my stomach lurched. I’d never hung out with these girls when I worked here, but I still cared about them. The ones that I’d known had been kind to me, even if it was just the kindness to understand that I needed space. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to them.

  John knocked on the door. “Liberty, I need you,” he called.

  “I wish he needed me,” Tracey said, and they all erupted in laughter again.

  “I’ll see you guys out there,” I called. I didn’t know if this was goodbye or not. I had no idea what was going to happen. John whisked me back out into the back lot, where Matthew and Corey were waiting.

  “Well, if it isn’t our own little Yoko Ono, also known as Liberty Davis,” Matthew said, sarcastically.

  “What’s your problem?” I asked, hurt. “I thought I was your BFF because of the fancy hotel. What’d I do now?”

  “It’s not what you did, it’s what you’re getting John to do,” he said. I looked at him blankly and he shook his head. “Having Darius and Cruz sit down for a chat?” he asked. He sounded mystified. “In what world is that a good idea?”

  I stuck my chin out at him and defensively crossed my arms across my chest. “It’s better than them killing each other, and then trying to get them to talk afterwards, isn’t it?”

  Matthew looked at me like I was completely ridiculous. “If that’s your best argument,” he trailed off and looked at John, who was pacing and looking at his phone.

  “John said they haven’t talked in years,” I said. “Why shouldn’t we try? They’re family — all families fight. All families hate each other. Maybe they just need to look each other in the eyes for once. Instead of just shooting from a distance. At least if they talk, they can clear the air before they kill each other. Or before Cruz has you kill his brother, and a bunch of other people get shot at, too.”

  “Are we branching off into mediation, John?” Matthew asked him. John looked up from his phone and gave him a leveling look.

  “Maybe,” he said. “It depends on whether Liberty wants to.” He went back to pacing. Then, as if remembering something, he looked back up. “Don’t ever call her Yoko again, or I’ll crack your face open with something metal,” he said, without a trace of humor.

  “Awesome,” Matthew said quietly. He turned back to me. “I understand what you’re saying, but I think it’s just prolonging the inevitable. We’ve been chasing this guy forever. He’s slippery. And I told you, he’s bad, bad news. I don’t want to lose him again — I want to get rid of him.”

  I sighed and looked up at him. I didn’t want John to break Matthew’s face, but he did make me mad sometimes. “I’m sure you’ll get to shoot something this weekend,” I said. “I don’t want to ruin all your fun.”

  But then all of their phones must have vibrated, because they simultaneously whipped them out and read me
ssages. “Let’s go,” Matthew said. “Corey, you cover back here.”

  I followed him and John back into the building. This time we went into the bar area. The music was loud, throbbing, as one of the girls I didn’t know danced onstage. Some of the other girls, including Tracey and Adriana, worked the crowd. There were probably seventy guys in the bar tonight, not that crowded, but still too many people to worry about.

  I searched the faces in the crowd, but I didn’t see Darius. “Is he here?” I asked John.

  “Not yet,” he said. “But Jake said someone was just at Cruz’s house, doing surveillance. So I’m guessing it’s just a matter of time.”

  He nodded at the bartender, Chelsea, who I recognized. “Hey,” she said, nodding back. “I already heard: I never saw you.” Without further ceremony, she turned back to washing her pint glasses.

  “We’re going to hide back here. Hopefully, he doesn’t know we’re here yet,” John said, motioning to a closet off behind the bar. “But listen to me,” he said, holding my chin up so my eyes met his. “I want to honor your request. I’m not happy about it, and Cruz wasn’t happy about it, but he’s agreed to meet with Darius. As long as one of us is in the room and he’s cuffed. But if he comes in and starts shooting, I am going to take him out,” he said, holding my eyes steadily with his clear blue ones. “I won’t be shooting for his knees, either. I need you to understand that. To accept it.”

  I nodded at him mutely. This was a big step for the both of us. I was accepting his line in the sand; he was acknowledging mine, and trying to honor it.

  He took one last look around, as if cataloging everything, and then ushered me and Matthew into the supply closet. It was small and the wait seemed inexorably long. None of us said a word. I kept looking at Matthew’s phone over his shoulder, trying to see how much time had passed. Five minutes, ten minutes, twenty. It was getting stuffy. My blood was crashing through my veins, roaring through my ears because of the adrenaline. It reminded me of the last time I was in Vegas, when I’d first met Darius. It was the first time I’d seen John in action, and he’d asked Matthew to hold me down.