The General's Little Angel (Breaking Chains© Book 2)

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The General's Little Angel (Breaking Chains© Book 2) Page 16

by C. B. Hunt


  Glancing east, she saw the dawning of the horizon behind the towering ragged mountains. Her sister wives would discover her empty bed any minute now and send the vicious Godsquad to hunt her down and return her for punishment. Her only chance was to reach the invisible line between the two states and find a place of refuge. She had to keep moving, not knowing how many more miles remained between a life of imprisonment or freedom. Numbly, Liberty changed into the pair of Levis and an oversized, short-sleeved shirt that she had stolen from a clothesline several miles back and then shoved her pastel green prairie dress under a rock. Forcing her weary body to rise, she resumed her walk along the dark, deserted highway on blistered feet covered by ill-fitting, soft soled, thread-bare slippers.

  The rumbling sound of a distant truck set her running across the road towards a large clump of sage in a desperate attempt to hide. She turned her head, lost her footing on the loose gravel, and cracked her temple against the rocky pavement. The screeching of tires, followed by the sounds of two male voices, rang through her ears. This was it, she thought, trying to lift herself from the ground. They found me. She prayed death would be swift.

  “I told you it wasn’t a coyote,” one gruff voice said. “I’m not an idiot. I know how to count the number of legs.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart, you got yourself a nasty bump there. Can you open your eyes?”

  “I don’t see anyone around. It looks like she’s alone,” the gruffer voice remarked.

  “Of course, she’s alone, you moron. We haven’t seen any sign of civilization for miles. Come on, girlie; we’re going to get you some help. Can you sit up?”

  “No …” she forced a hoarse whisper. “Don’t take me back there. He’ll kill me.”

  “Shush, we’ll take you to the hospital. There’s one a few miles back down the road.”

  “No! I need to get to Nevada! It’s an emergency. I have to go!”

  The gruff-voiced man interrupted her. “The fact that she can argue is good news and means that the little sprite’s got some spunk. I think we can just keep an eye on her and take her where she wants to go when she’s up to it. Dang, she weighs less than a feather. When was the last time you ate anything?”

  Liberty didn’t respond. She was lifted in a pair of solid arms, carried into the cab of an enormous horse trailer, and placed gently on the back bench. A warm hand smoothed over her face. “I bet she’s a pretty little thing without those bruises. Don’t worry, honey doll, we’ll take good care of you. It’s just water—take a couple of sips,” the man said gently, holding a straw to her lips. “Easy now. My name is Justice Stockton. This here’s my brother Jerrod. You got a name?”

  “Liberty.” The liquid was cool and sweet. She groaned when he took it away.

  “Slow down or you’re going to be sick. Liberty, is it? I guess it’s because no one can keep you in one place.”

  “No. It was a mockery of that pagan statue in New York,” she lied, trying to shake the daze from her aching skull. Her name had been given as a mockery of her mother’s desire to be free of the United Order when she discovered that she was pregnant. Out of spite, her father named the newborn Liberty to torment her mother and ensure that the woman would never forget that the child represented her permanent captivity.

  “How are you feeling, Miss Liberty?” the other voice asked with a tone of genuine concern.

  “Head hurts. Bad. So thirsty. Where are you taking me?” she whispered wearily, resigned to the worst.

  “You asked to go to Nevada, right? Is there somewhere you’re heading that you want us to take you?”

  “No. Just away. It doesn’t matter as long as it’s not here.”

  “I see. I thought you were on the run,” Justice commented. “We have a ranch near the Wild Horse Reservoir just a few hours drive from here. We can get you over there and then you can make arrangements for whatever you want to do. Will that be alright?”

  “Please help me,” she whispered. “I’m begging you. I’ll do anything that you want, just don’t take me back there.”

  “We won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise. You’re in good hands, little one,” the driver promised, glancing back at her through the rear-view mirror. “Let’s keep her awake for a while, just in case she’s got a concussion. There should be some ice in the cooler. Put a compress on that bump.”

  “Good idea. How am I supposed to keep her awake? The poor kid can barely keep her eyes open,” Justice asked, propping her head on his lap and placing a plastic bag of ice wrapped in a t-shirt on her head. She inhaled deeply—it smelled of hay, horses, and a man. There was something very safe and comforting about his scent that made her want just to snuggle into him. Was that just her exhaustion and the head wound speaking through her subconscious?

  “Do what you do best and keep talking. Your endless chatter always keeps me from going to sleep. And please put away the grumpy old bear growl before you scare her.”

  “Very funny,” Justice grunted, his gentle hand stroking her arm. The tone of his voice shifted from crusty to warm and soothing, and he entertained her with stories about his escapades at the ranch. Liberty found herself smiling as they drove down the long road to where she might finally be free.

  “We’re here, kiddo. Welcome to Owyhee Ranch. How are you holding up?” Jerrod asked, hopping out of the driver’s seat and opening the passenger door of the cab to help her out.

  “Sore. Thank you for helping me.” She allowed herself to lean against his chest as she tried to steady herself on wobbly legs. “As soon as I can see straight, I’ll be on my way. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “Say what? Are you delusional? You will stay here for as long as you need to. We got plenty of room, and you are clearly in need of being taken care of,” the other man proclaimed, his voice gruff once again as he scooped her up in his muscular arms. “Nope, no arguing from you. Your feet are a mess; you need a good meal and a hot bath, and then some sleep. How old are you anyway?”

  “I just turned nineteen a month ago. Why?”

  “You’re tiny so I figured you might be an underage runaway,” he shrugged, following his older brother. They entered a neatly kept ranch-style building that sat in the center of a flat plot of land studded with sagebrush and aspen trees.

  Her face grew tight, anticipating the response. “What if I was? I don’t have an ID and if they find me …”

  “Don’t worry, okay? If you were a minor, we’d just have to get you registered with our safe house for legal purposes. This is one of the securest spots you can find in the state. Since you’re an adult, we can keep your presence a complete secret if that’s what you want.”

  “I also have a pretty little wife who turns into a ferocious mama bear if anyone comes near her cubs, so you can’t get any safer than that,” the older man added, patting the couch. “Put her down right here for a bit. Now, back to you, young lady. Who are you running from and why?”

  “I’m not a runaway.”

  He shook his head. “No fibbing. You are terrified of being discovered, and that hollowed-out look in your eyes is one we’ve seen way too many times. Your bruises also tell me that you had a darn good reason to get away from where you’ve been. J-boy and I specialize in rescuing. You saw our trailer. We picked up a dozen wild horses that got caught in a canyon and almost starved to death. We’re going to fatten them up and then let them run free on this property where they will be safe and happy.”

  Liberty studied the man’s face. His sandy blond features were rugged and rough with several days’ growth on his chin and the softest blue eyes she had ever seen. He was attractive in his own way, but not as much as his younger brother. Justice’s coloring was completely opposite although he carried the same strong features and a face badly in need of a shave. The tall man’s roguish smile and deep dimples reminded her of a movie star pictured in the forbidden Hollywood magazines found in the Outsiders’ markets. A tattoo of a ho
rse’s head also peaked out from under the collar of his shirt, and she found herself wondering what his bare chest looked like. It certainly had to be more attractive than the withered and sagging skin of her old, white-chested husband.

  Guilt rushed through her. She was a married woman! Even as a sixth wife, it was a terrible sin to be noticing the appearance of another man. If escaping the compound and becoming an apostate wasn’t bad enough, she was now an adulteress! The chains of her past tightened around her spirit, and she fought to breathe.

  “Are you okay? You look like you’re having an anxiety attack. Breathe slowly,” Jerrod coached, propping her blistered feet on a pile of pillows. He then slipped another cushion under her head in what she imagined to be a caring parental fashion and then took her hand in his.

  Liberty resumed control of her wicked thoughts and she slowed her breathing. “I’m fine, thank you. Is fattening me up and letting me loose on the land your plan for me too? I’m very resourceful, so that wouldn’t be a problem. It would be nice to be far away from people and hang out with the horses.” It was all a lie, but she wasn’t going to let these strangers know that she was as helpless as a baby if left alone in the wilderness.

  The dark-haired man sat on the floor next to her head and offered a bright, straight-toothed smile. “You’re too darn cute to set loose on your own. Besides, I don’t want any wild cats making a snack out of you. Our family loves camping and roughing it, so maybe we can do that together later on. Would you like that?”

  “I’ve never been camping before, but I don’t want to be an imposition. I already told you that I couldn’t stay.”

  “Hush. Right now we need to focus on getting you strong and healthy. Jerrod, how about you go make us a bite to eat while our little redhead tells me what brought her to us.”

  Liberty wrinkled her nose. “You already know the answer. You picked me up in your truck.”

  “Wow, we have a little smarty pants on our hands, too! Good,” Justice said with a laugh, lightly smacking her thigh. He waited until his brother left the room and lowered his voice. “So out with it, peanut. Who made a mess of your face and why?”

  She hesitated. The men had been so kind, but how could she trust them? They were Outsiders, ones declared by the Prophet as evil, whose only purpose was to kill the Chosen Ones of the FLDS church. But she had run and lost the distinction of being chosen. She also had to accept that an outsider’s wicked intent was no more threatening than what she faced in the compound.

  She chose to lie. “I’m clumsy. I trip over my feet while walking in a straight line. You saw what I did on the highway while trying to run and hide when I heard you coming.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you think you were doing? You were zigzagging all over the place before you fell flat on your face to the ground.”

  “The sound of your truck startled me.”

  “Okay, darling, let’s get one thing clear. No fibbing. We want to help you any way we can and have a ton of connections that can keep you safe and sound. Do you honestly think you’re the first kid that showed up on our doorstep looking like this after escaping the Idaho compound?”

  “W-what are you talking about? What compound?” Liberty stuttered, the blood rushing from her face.

  “Your shoes, honey. You may have stolen those clothes, but the shoes are all the same from that place. They buy those makeshift moccasins from wholesale outlet stores because they’re cheap and one size fits many.” He took her hand and turned it over to look at her palm. “These cracks and calluses are from hard work of scrubbing floors, doing laundry, and planting. Was it your pa, husband, or sister wives who left these bruises on your face? Is there anywhere else on your body that we need to get a doctor to come take a look at?”

  Tears gushed from her eyes in an uncontrollable downpour. “Don’t send me back,” she pleaded. “I’m begging you.”

  “Calm down, sweetheart. I promise that you’re perfectly safe here. You aren’t going anywhere right now and there is no way that anyone will find you. I know it’s going to take time to learn how to trust us, but you have to try. You asked for our help, but we need some answers so we can give you what you need. Now talk,” he ordered softly.

  The words poured from her mouth as quickly as her tears. She shared the story of her life, not noticing as Jerrod sat on the edge of the coffee table to listen. It felt like she spoke for hours, pausing only to sip the sweetened tea handed to her to moisten her dry mouth and throat.

  “That’s the FLDS compound controlled by the Barlows, isn’t it?” Jerrod asked. “With her testimony, we can finally get it shut down and help those poor women and children.”

  “My testimony? No! Oh, Father in Heaven, no! They will kill me! Please, don’t make me do that!”

  “Relax, baby girl. We aren’t going to force you to do anything. So that you know, we do have ways of protecting witnesses. We were heavily involved in the Warren Jeffs’ case when they raided the Yearning for Zion compound in Eldorado, Texas. You heard about that, right? Hey, what’s wrong? You’re shaking,” Jerrod said, lowering himself on the floor next to his younger brother.

  Liberty’s hands flew to her mouth in terror, and she trembled with uncontrollable and strangling fear. “Father, he …”

  “What did he do?”

  “The girl who reported the Prophet’s actions defied the faith and blasphemed God, and we suffered in her place. Father punished all of us for her and no one escaped his wrath, not even the little ones. We were all severely whipped as a warning never to tell anyone about what was happening in our world. One of my little sisters completely stopped talking for over a year after that beating, and another hung herself.”

  “Dear Lord,” Justice whispered, pulling the sobbing girl into his arms. “Your father is a monster, baby. What he and his followers are doing is not the definition of either faith or humanity. Oh, man …” He rocked her like a child in his arms, cooing softly as she clung to his shirt.

  Jerrod rubbed her shoulder. “Let’s get some food into you, and then you can take a hot bath. I’ll fix up your feet, and we will tuck you into bed. You’ll feel so much better after a full belly and a good night’s sleep.”

  “I don’t need food or sleep,” she wept. “I need to get away. They are going to find me if I don’t. I’m an apostate and am targeted to die.”

  “You are far away from them, and no one can come close to this property without our knowledge. We have plenty of loyal people who are looking out for us, okay? I want you to eat, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Move your bottom over and make some room for me,” Justice said firmly, climbing onto the couch next to her. Without asking, he held a sandwich loaded with roast beef and lettuce to her mouth. “Open up and take a bite.”

  Although starving, every part of her body, mind, and spirit screamed against obeying his command and she clamped her lips shut. These were Outsiders and not to be trusted. “No,” she said between clenched teeth while turning her head.

  Justice raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Did you just tell me ‘no?’ Nobody tells me ‘no.’ Did you hear that, bro? She said ‘no’ to me!”

  “Plenty of people tell you ‘no,’ but you just don’t want to listen,” his brother said with a snicker.

  “Put a plug in it. Libby? Look, it’s not poisoned.” He took a bite, engulfing nearly a third of the sandwich. “See?”

  “Don’t talk with your mouthful. It’s disgusting.” Liberty frowned. “You have mayonnaise stuck in your beard.”

  “Talking with food in his mouth has been a bad habit since he was a little kid,” Jerrod announced, chomping into his own meal. “If you don’t eat meat, I can make you a PB&J. Just tell me.”

  “What’s a PB&J?”

  “You’ve never had peanut butter and jelly? Damn!” Justice exclaimed.

  “Please don’t swear. Don’t you see the kid winces each time you do it?”

  “The Prophet demanded that we deny ourselves any worldly pl
easures, so food was very limited and only for survival. He also said that a woman was to be kept thin so that all could see when she was finally blessed with the carrying of a child.”

  “What that monster did was kept you starving, weak, and pregnant to make you more pliable to his will. He also was known to sexually molest young boys as well as little girls, so the more androgynous he could keep you, the more it played into his sick perversions.”

  “Those rumors are lies. He would never do such a thing!”

  “Denying it isn’t going to make it any less true. Two of his own children testified against him and there were other pieces of evidence proving this to be true. Now, back to the subject of food. I’ll bet that you’ve never had anything that didn’t taste like shit.”

  “You and I are going to have a long talk about your language later on, little brother,” Jerrod scolded. “Meanwhile, I’m going to go make our guest my special double-decker version of a PB&J. Liberty? Please promise to keep it out of J-boy’s grubby hands.”

  “I promise. That’s also the second time you’ve called him J-boy. I thought his name is Justice.”

  “It is. Big brother here calls me that just to tick me off. Jerrod! While you’re in there, you can make me a fluffernutter.”

  “You can make that disgusting thing yourself if you want one.”

  “What’s a fluffernutter?” Liberty asked.

  “The nastiest thing on the planet. It’s a sandwich made with peanut butter, banana slices, and marshmallow topping. Sometimes he even deep fries it after dipping it in pancake batter. My wife calls it a heart attack on toast,” Jerrod explained with a wry expression. “Oh, please don’t tell me you want to try one. They are disgusting and not at all healthy.”

  Liberty’s bruised, dirty face broke into a broad grin as she nodded vigorously. A slight giggle abruptly escaped her as Jerrod shook his head and walked away. “I like him. Is he a lot older than you?”

  “By sixteen years. Here, finish this up,” Justice said, handing her the remainder of the roast beef sandwich. “He’s a good guy and I owe him my life. My folks got caught in a flash flood when I was ten, and he and Robin stepped into the role of parenting. Between that and what happened with Rachel, the poor dude’s been through a world of hurt.”

 

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