And I knew, fucking knew, when Liberty’s lips found my forehead and in a gentle press, she gave me one last kiss. And with that kiss, she muttered the words, “I’ll never forget you.”
I knew what heartbreak felt like.
I knew I’d never recover.
And I knew I never wanted to.
There would never be another Liberty McCoy.
23
One would think that thirty days’ leave would be welcomed—energizing even. After everything I’d been through, maybe even necessary.
However, ten days into my mandatory thirty-day leave, I was fed the fuck up. I was overcome with guilt. I was pissed off at everyone and everything. Which meant I felt like an ungrateful cow.
I loved my family. Loved my mom and dad, aunts, uncles, cousins, all the way down to the newest additions.
But if one more person asked me if I was all right, if I wanted to talk about it, or that I needed to get it out, I was going to lose my mind and commit hari-kari.
I was heartbroken, guilt ridden, and angry.
No, I wasn’t all right. But that didn’t mean I wanted to talk about it. And the more people pressured me to, the more I locked it away.
The way I was treating my dad made me a bitch. But the way I was shutting my mom out made me the worst kind of human. Every time my mom approached, apprehension shone clear as day on her face and I’d done that to her. I’d made our once-tight relationship distant. But I didn’t have it in me to tell her what was going on.
It would kill her.
And my dad wasn’t an option because he’d go ballistic. Which meant my uncles were off-limits because if I talked to them and not my dad, he’d be crushed.
So I was fucked. I had so much weighing heavy on me I could no longer carry it. And the only person I wanted was lost to me.
I’d felt the connection snap back in Golan Heights, with my back against the shower wall, his dick still inside of me, and cold water spraying my face.
I’d kissed his forehead and he broke the last piece of me left.
His response, unmistakable.
Now my parents’ house was full of family and I wanted to shrink away. I wanted to be invisible. I wanted to be anywhere but there. I’d even settle being back in the hands of a madman hellbent on revenge if it meant my loved ones stopped looking at me with sad eyes and frowns.
“Hey.” My cousin Delaney stopped next to me and bumped her hip into mine. “You need to talk to Carter.”
Without my permission, my heartrate spiked and my stomach clenched.
“About?” I asked, deciding my best option was to play dumb.
“Everything.”
“Laney—”
“Nope. Nah-uh, I’ve seen you five times in ten days. There’s something very wrong and each time I see you it’s worse than the last. I’m not going to insult you and say that I understand because we both know I damn well don’t. But he does. He knows what you’re going through. You need to talk to him.”
“Not insult me?” I huffed. “Right, and telling me I look like shit isn’t insulting?”
“You know that’s not what I said. And by you twisting my words, you’ve made my point. My cousin, my friend, my Liberty, doesn’t purposefully twist words so she can be offended,” Delaney hissed. “Talk to him. If not for you, then for him. He’s torn up inside watching you go through this and not reaching out.”
“I see. This isn’t about me, it’s about your husband and making him feel better.”
What the hell am I doing?
“You know that’s not right,” she whispered. Every word full of hurt.
“No, Delaney. What I know is, everyone needs to mind their own goddamned business.”
Pain slashed through my cousin’s features. Pain that I put there and I did it on purpose so she’d leave me alone.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Before I could turn and flee, a strong hand gripped my elbow. Reflexes took over and my fist swung. I connected with nothing but air, then I was wrapped in my cousin Jason’s arms. His mouth at my ear, he growled, “Outside.”
“Let me go.”
“No fucking way. Outside.”
“I can’t believe you,” I grunted.
“Either you walk outside, Moira, or I drag you out. How do you think your mom’s gonna feel, she sees me hauling you out?”
She’d die a thousand more deaths.
“Fine. But seriously, this shit is jacked. Everyone needs to—”
“Out. Side,” he grunted.
Jason’s arms loosened and I ripped free, then I noticed all eyes were on me. My dad’s full of hurt. My mom’s, agony. My uncles’, angry. My aunts’, pity.
I stalked across the room, ignoring the stares. By the time I’d made it to the sliding glass door, I’d made my decision —after this, Jason was done with his macho bullshit and I was leaving.
Oh, and one more fucked-up thing that’d happened in the long line of fucked-up that was my life. The Army in all their infinite wisdom had transferred me from Washington state to a post in Savannah. Meaning I couldn’t even escape back across the country since I was now stationed close.
I mean, what in the actual hell was that about? I needed thousands of miles between me and the people who I was hurting. It wasn’t fair to them, I didn’t want them witnessing my downward spiral. I needed time to pull my shit together.
Warm, fresh air hit my face. I took ten paces—yes, I counted—and whirled to give Jason a piece of my mind.
But I didn’t find Jason.
Suddenly, I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t breathe.
Dad, Lenox, Clark, and Jasper.
Nick, Jason, Carter, Ethan, and Jackson.
Nine men.
All of them towered over me. All of them wore alarmingly menacing scowls. All of them loved me to the depths of their souls.
Because I knew they loved me, I lashed out.
“This is bullshit.”
“You’re fucking up, baby cousin,” Nick started. “Ten days we played it soft waiting to see if you’d come around. You’re not. Time’s up. You need a reminder.”
“How big of all of you to give me ten days.” Then because I was feeling especially vicious I went for the kill. “Funny, not too long ago another group of men treated me to ten days as well. What happens now? Are you guys gonna strap me down, too, try to drown me? Maybe you’d prefer to start with the electrocution. I’m assuming because y’all are my family you won’t strip me down to my skivvies. But I have to say, the technique is oddly effective.”
My gaze sliced through the men. Not one flinch, not even a blink.
“Feel better?” Jason asked.
“Better?” I laughed. “Yeah, I feel great.”
I highly doubted they missed my sarcasm though again there was no reaction.
Movement in the house caught my attention. Brice had the front door open and was ushering my aunts, cousins, and the kids out of the house.
What the fuck?
My eyes went to my dad and I asked, “Where’s everyone going?”
Dad didn’t answer but Jason continued, “You should’ve known we weren’t gonna leave you to hide.”
“That’s fucking rich coming from you. The man who locked himself away in the very house his wife died in and shut all of us out when we reached out. Including me, Cousin. You told me to mind my own business. Return the favor and butt out of mine.”
That was so low, so fucking wrong my stomach roiled and bile creeped up my throat.
Please God, forgive me.
“Yep. I sure did. One of my biggest regrets. Turned my back on everyone I loved and wallowed in self-pity until I was drowning in it. Pushed everyone away and in the process of doing that, hurt everyone I loved,” Jason growled, and to make his point, his arm swept the area indicating our family.
That was a sock to the gut.
My eyes landed on Ethan. I don’t know what I expected to find but it wasn’t his green eyes hard with an
ger. He was one year older than me. Out of all my male cousins, I was probably closest to him, he’d been my protector growing up. Not that all of us cousins hadn’t stuck together, but Ethan and I shared a bond. I was the first to know that his daughter Carson was on the way. He’d trusted me with that. At sixteen, when he was scared as hell, he’d turned to me and told me that he’d knocked up his girlfriend and no matter what, he was keeping the baby. And damn if he didn’t step up.
All of my cousins were big strong men, but it was Ethan I admired the most. It was he who was the most selfless. And right then, Ethan staring at me in disgust shattered my heart.
No, he wasn’t going to protect me, he wasn’t going to help me out of this bullshit. And that hurt me more than Jason dragging me out to the porch. It hurt worse than my uncles looking at me like I was a disappointment.
“You don’t understand.” I was looking directly at Ethan but I meant those words for everyone in attendance.
“You’re right, I don’t. Because you won’t let me,” Ethan returned.
“I don’t want you to,” I seethed. “I don’t want you to know what a failure I am.”
“Mimi, the last thing you are is a failure.” That name had me taking a step back and wrapping my arms around my middle. When Carson was a toddler, she couldn’t say Moira, so she called me Aunt Mimi.
I loved that name, it was special. Nick and Meadow’s kids called me Mimi. Soon, Hudson and baby Emma would be talking and I wanted them to call me Aunt Mimi, too.
“Why can’t everyone just leave it alone? Let me work things out in my head myself.”
“That’s not the way it works,” Carter told me and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
There were so many reasons why I’d been avoiding Carter. The biggest were Drake, Trey, and Luke. All three of them he served with, was close to, and considered brothers. Two of whom were seriously injured when I failed. One I was more than halfway in love with.
The other reason, I knew he knew what it was like to be captured and tortured. He knew and he’d want to talk about it.
I didn’t.
I wanted to shut down, be left alone, and forget.
“Liberty, look at me,” Carter demanded.
My gaze went to him, and as always, it amazed me how much he looked like his father. Carter Lenox Sr. and Carter Lenox Jr. were damn near identical. Only now, my Uncle Lenox has salt-and-pepper hair instead of Carter’s dark. Same build, same eyes, same posture, same everything.
“You know, I understand. You know I’ve been where you were and I’ve been where you are now. This is not something you keep inside, lock down deep, and file away for another day. If you don’t unpack it now, you’ll be stuck. Your head will keep going back there. Those nightmares you’re having, they’ll get worse.”
My jaw started to ache as I clenched my teeth. I couldn’t believe my dad had shared I was having nightmares. I knew he’d heard them—I was staying in his house, he’d come in a couple of times to wake me. But I’d refused to talk about them.
Traitor.
“I was fucking scared as hell,” Carter told me. “Scared when the gun was pointed at my head. Scared when I was alone in a cell after a beating. Fuck, Liberty, there wasn’t a moment I wasn’t scared. I knew how close I was to dying. I knew all the shit I’d left unsaid at home. I knew that if I died, my team was worse off. All I could do was fucking take it. No control, my hands zip tied, my ankles chained, no way to fight back—and for a man like me to have to suck it the fuck up and be at the mercy of animals, it fucked with my head. I know what that shit does to your head. I’m telling you, you need to get it out.”
“It’s not that easy,” I muttered.
“It damn well is.”
“Maybe for you, but not for me.”
“Why? Why not for you?”
“It’s just not. It’s complicated.”
“Fuck complicated, Liberty. Jesus Christ, spit it the fuck out and stop acting like there are not five of us standing here who know what you’ve been through. You’re damn lucky, you know that. You have people close, people who love you, people who would do anything for you who have been in your shoes. Exactly in them. We’ve all been there and—”
“No, you haven’t!” I shouted. “You haven’t been in my shoes because what happened to you—to them,” I pointed at my dad and uncles, “that was an act of war. What happened to me was fucking personal. It’s their fault.” I jabbed in my dad’s direction. “And you, Cousin, should be thanking me, because I took a beating that was meant for you. You were the first choice. You were the one they wanted, but when they couldn’t get to you, they took me instead. The sins of the father. They took something from him, so he was taking something precious from them.
“So, don’t tell me you fucking understand because you’ve never taken a beating for this family. You’ve never looked into a man’s eyes while he pinned you down, his hands around your throat, strangling you—choking the life out of you while he told you you were too dirty to fuck because you were a McCoy. Never has a man left you for dead because your father killed his. But you see, Cousin, I have. I took that—his anger, his revenge—and I took it for your dad and for you. I had those hands around my throat. So, no, you don’t get to tell me you know what it’s like.”
I was so lost in my head I missed the change. I missed the nine men go from pissed and hurt to off-the-charts furious. I missed my dad’s swift intake of oxygen. I missed my Uncle Lenox’s eyes flash in pain. I missed all of this because I realized that I wasn’t the worst daughter. I wasn’t even the worst human, I was simply a fucking bitch, because there it was—I blamed my dad and uncles.
I blamed them for every second of torment I endured, for every punch, every drop of water, every zap of voltage that seared through me, for five men dying, and for my fear.
I blamed them because I needed to.
I needed to do something.
Anything.
Because I had nothing.
24
“What the fuck?” my dad rumbled.
I said nothing.
“Walk me through the part about me being the first choice.” Carter’s voice had gone hard, his face had blanked, and damn if it didn’t remind me of Drake. How easy it was for him to slip into his role as a SEAL.
“Classified.”
“Call Drake,” Lenox barked.
“He won’t tell you, either.”
“The fuck he won’t.”
“He won’t and you know it.”
I prayed I was right. Besides, Drake had enough to worry about with Trey and Luke being injured. He didn’t need Carter in his face.
Carter was studying me in a way I didn’t like. He was smart, too smart, and I watched as he worked through something. When he nodded I knew I wasn’t going to like his conclusion.
“Dad, dig through her last mission. Where she was, what the objective was, who she was with. If this was personal, that ambush was a setup.”
“Did that. Dead end. Reports are bullshit,” Lenox answered.
Carter’s eyes narrowed on me. “Why the cover-up?”
“There’s no cover-up. It’s classified.”
“What units are at Hunter?”
No, no, no, Carter was getting too close.
Clark rattled off the different battalions who called Hunter Army Airfield home while my uncle listed the different tents from Airmen, Marines, Coast Guardsmen, to the soldiers. I had to admit, it was a little scary he knew them off the top of his head. But what was scarier was the way Carter scrutinized the information so quickly.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Carter seethed.
“Don’t,” I pleaded, knowing he was putting everything together. “Leave it alone.”
“What unit, Liberty?”
I remained silent—there was no correct answer. My dad and uncles had worked under the veil of secrecy when they were in the Army. Their unit was classified as a logistical unit, when it was anything but. Being former membe
rs of the combat application group, they’d know. Carter being a former SEAL, he’d figured it out.
“Fuck this!” I shouted. “Leave it, Carter. I don’t need this shit on top of everything else. You might not think so, but I’m dealing. I’ve left it behind me. I’m fine. Or I was until all of you thought that interrogating me was your best option. Now, you’ve pissed me off.”
“You’re not dealing with it,” Carter pushed. “You’ve—”
“Stop telling me what I’m doing. I’m so sick and tired of people telling me what I am and what I’m not doing. First Drake, then Logan, Dad, Mom, you, fucking hell. Leave me alone.”
“Not gonna happen.” My Uncle Jasper entered the conversation. His tone took me by surprise. I’d never heard him angry.
“What do you want from me?”
“The truth.”
“The truth? You want it, fine.” I welcomed the pain my nails caused digging into my palms. I needed to feel something other than all the ugly shit eating at me. I was not this person, I didn’t lash out, I didn’t hate my family, I didn’t hurt people.
“I hate myself. I hate that I was weak. I hate that I was afraid. I hate that my team died because of me. I hate everything. Is that the truth you wanted? Or did you want to know all the ways I failed to protect my men? How I couldn’t get out of my head fast enough when I was getting the shit beat out of me and I felt every fucking punch. I’m not strong, I couldn’t do what you all taught me. Fuck!”
My dad broke away from the others and stalked toward me. I put my hand up to stop him, I had no words because I couldn’t breathe.
Weak. Why was I so weak?
“Moira, I need you to listen to me.” Suddenly my dad sounded oddly defeated. His words so pained, knowing I did that to him, I wanted to crumble. I wanted to beg for forgiveness. “There’s not one weak thing about you. Everything you’re feeling is normal.”
“You call this normal, Dad? I want to crawl out of my skin.”
“I know you do.”
“Why can’t I make it stop?”
“Because you’re avoiding it. The flashbacks, the nightmares, the guilt—they don’t just go away. And the more you try to push them away and pretend you’re not feeling those things, the worse it gets. It’s not healthy, sweetheart. You have to unload it. And if you can’t trust us to take it, then we’ll find someone for you to talk to. But, Moira, you have to talk about it. All of it. Even the uncomfortable shit.”
Taking Liberty: The Next Generation Page 17