Taking Liberty: The Next Generation

by Edwards, Riley

  I bit my cheek until I tasted blood. This was too much. The bile I’d been swallowing rushed up and I turned just in time to empty my stomach on my parents’ lawn. Once that started, the seal was broken and I couldn’t stop the sob that ripped through me.

  A strong arm went around my stomach and a hand gathered my hair away from my face. Warm, familiar arms that had held me thousands of times.

  “So proud of you, Moira. So damn proud. Me and your mom couldn’t have asked for a better daughter,” my dad cooed as I continued to heave. “But more than that, couldn’t be any more proud of the woman you became. So strong, my girl.”

  “Weak,” I said and spit the saliva that pooled in my mouth. “I killed them.”

  “You didn’t kill anyone.”

  “They died because of me. Same thing.”

  “Not even close.”

  My dad shuffled, then pressed a paper towel in my hand. I wiped my face but remained bent forward, afraid there was more poison churning in my stomach.

  “When’d you go through SF school?” Dad asked.

  Yeah, once Carter had started down that line, there was no hiding it.

  “Last year,” I admitted.

  “How many missions?”

  “Two.”

  Dad made a sound that was halfway between a growl and grunt that had every muscle in my body tightening. Deciding I was not going to throw up again—but more than that, not wanting to be in my father’s arms while he was vibrating with anger—I stood and pushed away.

  Carter was staring at his dad in silent communication.

  Then just like I wasn’t standing there, the men took over.

  “Bait or traitor?” Carter weirdly asked.

  “Depends on the target. If they needed him disposed of off the books—she was bait. If he’s low-level priority, then someone sold her out,” Lenox returned.

  “Pull up our ops,” my dad instructed. “Family, friends, anyone who would hold a grudge.”

  “SF’s tight. Their chain is going to be limited,” Clark added.

  “True. But flights have to be arranged, gear moved, that’s not kept in-house. A clerk could’ve seen her name on a manifest and easily given it up,” Jasper said.

  “I want satellite—”

  “Stop!” I cut my dad off. “This is exactly why Wick wanted you guys to stay out of it.”

  Wrong thing to say—way wrong.

  “Come again?” Dad grunted.

  “This is Army business. You need to stand down. If not for Mom, then for me. You poke your nose in this, he’ll know I ran off at the mouth and said too much. I could face a court martial.”

  “Nothing will touch you or your mom.”

  “You say that, but it will when the four of you dig and find you don’t like the information you’ve found. Then when you go off on a mission of destruction and get your ass in a sling, it will be me, Mom, Aunt Lily, Aunt Reagan, and Aunt Emily who will be swinging in the wind. And if you pull Carter into this, then Delaney and Emma are out there. Not to mention Drake, Trey, Matt, Logan, and Luke. Wick will never believe they didn’t take Carter’s back. And right now, with Trey and Luke and what happened to them, I think they’ve had enough of my shit to last a lifetime. They don’t need to get fucked again because of me.”

  “You were in Beirut with them?” Carter asked.

  Well, fuck me running, now I was spewing out information.

  “Carter—”

  “Serious as shit right now, Liberty, spill.”

  That’s when I spilled. And I did it because Carter was worried about his friends. I did it because he was looking at me with his green eyes imploring, and after all the screwed-up, mean stuff I’d said, I felt obligated to tell him about his brothers.

  When I was done running down what I felt comfortable telling them, without breaking operational security—too much, Carter was staring at me. Then he smiled, and when he did, his face lit and he shook his head.

  “Christ. I’m not sure if I’m thoroughly impressed my baby cousin’s a badass Special Forces soldier or if I’m furious you were sent out with them a week after you’d been captured and tortured. But what I am sure of is, I’m proud as fuck.”

  “What? Did you miss the part where I told you I warned them too late?”

  Carter’s smile died and his eyes went hard. “No, I heard everything you said. Including the part where you warned them and they didn’t beat feet. I know Trey, he wouldn’t have ignored your warning unless he thought he had time to take the shot. He miscalculated and that’s on him. Not you. And what you did, helping him probably saved his leg.”

  “Logan would’ve had it covered if I wasn’t there.”

  “No doubt he would’ve. But he didn’t, you did.” Carter’s posture softened before he continued. “Pissed you didn’t tell me this sooner. Pissed Drake didn’t call me to tell me what happened. I understand, but I’m still not happy Trey and Luke are hurt and that was kept from me.”

  “I’m—”

  “Don’t want you to apologize—as I said, I get it. I understand all of it, including why you were taken and what happened. But you’re flat-out wrong.”

  “I don’t know how to talk about it,” I admitted.

  “Open your eyes,” Jason said and my gaze sliced to him. He’d been so quiet I’d forgotten he was there.

  “What?”

  “That’s what you told me when I was sitting in the cold, dark, lonely house beatin’ myself up. Holding on to guilt like a security blanket. Blaming myself for everything that happened with Kayla. When you tried to talk to me and I shut you down, you told me to open my eyes and look around. That there were people who loved me and wanted to help. Then you told me to look in the mirror because I looked like shit.” His lips twitched and he smiled. “I think the day you stopped by I hadn’t showered in something like five days. I did look like shit. Bet I stunk, too, but you kindly kept that to yourself.”

  “When I came to you balling my eyes out—literally crying like a baby,” Ethan started, “you told me I didn’t have anything to worry about. That after Mom and Dad kicked my ass for knocking up Chrissy, they’d see me through. Then you told me you had my back no matter what and you’d help me raise my kid. But it was you reminding me that our family always sticks together and no one would let me fall, that’s what gave me the courage to tell Mom and Dad.”

  “Did she tell you to do that at my housewarming party, or was that your bright idea?” Nick chuckled.

  Ethan gave him the middle finger but didn’t take his eyes off me. “Now, the first time in your life you need me and you don’t trust me enough to take your back. That’s jacked.”

  “You’ve had my back more times than I can count,” Jackson said. “To this day, you’re the only one who knows I was thinking of dropping out of the academy. I failed a time trial, my knee was fucked, and I was worried about failing another and I was close to quitting.”

  “Seriously?” my Uncle Clark asked. “You never talked to me about that.”

  “Didn’t need to, Dad. Liberty sorted my shit. She told me to suck it up. Then she told me to man-up and stop acting like a baby. Failing one timed run didn’t mean shit. After she was done calling me names she reminded me that Clarks, Walkers, Lenoxes, and McCoys never quit. Never, no matter what. We push through. And if there ever comes a time we can’t walk over that finish line, someone will carry you. Of course, she was right. That time, she carried me. But, Cousin, now you’re not letting me carry you.”

  “You got a lotta people who love you.” Lenox’s deep, rough voice hit me and an ache in my chest started to grow.

  “I know,” I whispered.

  “A lotta people who have your back.”

  “I know.”

  “No, Liberty, you don’t know. If you did, first thing you would’ve done was call us all together and unpacked the weight you’ve been carrying around.”

  “I didn’t want you to know.”

  “Know what? That you’re seriously t
ough? Girl, we know that. Know that while you were in the hands of a terrorist you were hit, shocked, tortured, starved, bled, slept in the dirt, cuffed, kicked? Girl, we know that, too. Me, your dad, Jasper, Clark, Carter, we’ve been there. That’s the part you’re forgetting. Because we’ve been there, we know what happened to you, so we know down to our souls that you aren’t just tough, you’re goddamn tough. You’ve entered into a club that no one wants to be in. But fuck, girl, you survived and you did so with honor. So, darlin’, what didn’t you want us to know?”

  “I didn’t want my dad to live with that knowledge,” I whispered. “Didn’t want Mom to have nightmares about it. Didn’t want any of you to look at me differently.”

  I heard Dad’s audible intake of air and I glanced from Uncle Lenox to him to see tears in his eyes.

  Tears.

  “Moira.” My dad’s voice hit my ears, thick with anguish. One word and I was gutted. “Since the day you told me you were enlisting, I’ve lived with the knowledge that my daughter had grown into an exceptional woman, one who answered the call, one who would willingly lay down her life for God and country. That knowledge was hammered home when I was told you’d been taken. As your uncle already told you, I don’t need details to know. As far as your mom’s concerned, other than you, she’s the strongest, most capable woman I know. And that’s saying a lot because your aunts are mighty strong. But your mother spent years in the field, she doesn’t need you to tell her what happened to know her daughter’s in pain. All she needs is for you to let her be your mother.

  “Somethin’ else.” Dad stopped and swiped a tear from his face, cleared his throat, then pinned me in place with his eyes. “Wish I could’ve seen you through SF school. Not so I could tell you how proud I was of you—because you already know I am. Not so I could tell you how much I love you—because you know I do down to my soul. But, so I could’ve told you that every day you inspire me to be a better man.”

  I took in the men around me, and the reality of my situation slammed into my chest and stole my breath. Red, hot, searing shame burned me to my core.

  Nine men.

  Dad, Lenox, Clark, and Jasper.

  Nick, Jason, Carter, Ethan, and Jackson.

  The best men I knew.

  “I’m sorry. So sorry. I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean…. God. I’m broken. I can’t. Please, I need help. I can’t—”

  Before I could say another word, I was in my dad’s arms. Not in an embrace, but cradled in his arms like a child. Like he’d done so many times. His lips pressed against my forehead.

  “Swear to you, Moira, we’ll get you all the help you need.”

  After a few minutes, I was pulled from my dad and found myself in my Uncle Lenox’s strong arms. From there I was passed around. Each man offering me strength, but more than that they were telling me without words how much they loved me.

  When they were done I caught my Uncle Jasper’s gaze. His smile was small but approving, he tipped his chin and winked.

  They had faith in me, even if I couldn’t find it myself.

  They’d see me through.

  They always did.

  25

  I listened to the hum of the tattoo machine and relaxed into the incessant sting of the needle dragging against my back as the artist finished the fine lines and detail work. The bite of discomfort doing nothing to push the never-ending pain of losing Liberty out of my head.

  Nothing is working.

  * * *

  With each pounding stride, my muscles burned, my chest expanded with each breath, my ears throbbed from the blaring death metal I had cranked up to full volume.

  Liberty. Just a fleeting thought.

  I ran harder, faster, keeping a brutal pace and trying to erase her from my memory.

  Nothing is working.

  With the high fence and barbwire noting I’d reached the far end of the annex in sight, I slowed to a stop and turned to the surf. The sun was beginning to rise, the sky painted with an orange hue, the beauty of it only pissing me off more.

  My hand automatically went over my heart to soothe the excruciating agony the mere thought of her invoked.

  Christ.

  My head tipped back, my eyes closed, salty air filled my lungs, and visions of Liberty against the tile wall, moaning in pleasure crowded my mind.

  Two weeks since I’d last seen her, yet I could still see, smell, taste, and feel her.

  Heartbreak.

  “Fuck!”

  My shouted curse was met with silence.

  I turned back to the compound and while my muscles protested the punishing sprint, I welcomed the pain.

  * * *

  “Hayes!” Command Master Chief Brenner called my name when I passed his office.

  I stopped and leaned back so I could peer into the room.

  “What’s up?”

  “Need a minute. Come in and close the door.”

  Brenner remained seated behind his cluttered desk when I entered. His face was devoid of expression, but his fists resting on the papers in front of him gave away his agitation. Not that I could guess what his tension stemmed from, unless something had happened with Trey or Luke.

  “What’s going on? Trey and Luke okay?”

  “Have a seat.” Not liking his tone but wanting to get this talk over with so I could head to the gym, one of the many strenuous ways I tried to occupy my time, I sat.

  The silence stretched to uncomfortable. Brenner’s icy stare remained vacant, body taut, jaw clenched.

  Something was seriously fucked.

  “Spit it out,” I demanded.

  “I don’t even know how to start.”

  “Start what?”

  Brenner shuffled some papers around then handed me a Manila envelope. I took it, opened the flap, and pulled out the contents.

  I turned the papers over and my lungs seized.

  “What the fuck?” An eight-by-ten image of me hugging Liberty. We were standing next to five flag-draped boxes. I flipped to the next picture and I was kissing the top of her head. “What the fuck are these?”

  “There’s a recording as well.”

  “Come again?” I asked and looked at the next picture. My hand was on Liberty’s lower back as I helped her into my hut.

  “A…um…recording.”

  “You said that already. A recording of what? And who the fuck took these?”

  “Anonymously reported.”

  “Reported?”

  “Fraternization.”

  That one word sliced through me like a hot blade and my vision blurred as fury rose.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “’Fraid not.”

  “And the recording?”

  “It’s bad, brother.” Brenner shifted in his chair and adverted his gaze.

  What the fuck? Had we said something on the radio that could be misconstrued as misconduct?

  “I wanna hear it.”

  “You really don’t.”

  “Yeah, Brenner, I do. You got it, fire it up.”

  “You need to trust me, Hayes. Nothing good will come from you hearing it. We need to figure this out and start damage control. The troop commander—”

  “Right now, I don’t give a flying fuck about damage control. I want to hear the recording.”

  “You need to care. This could end your career and Lieutenant McCoy’s.”

  Red hot rage bubbled to the surface and I shot to my feet.

  Fuck my career. Nothing was going to touch Liberty.

  “Play. It.”

  With an irritated sigh, Brenner turned to his laptop.

  A moment later my world stopped.

  “I want your pants off.” Liberty’s voice filled the room.

  No, fuck, no.

  “Then take what you want, Liberty.” There was a pause before I heard my gruff, lust-fueled demand over the sound of the shower. “Serious as fuck, baby, right here, right now, need you to tell me exactly what it is you want.”

 
“You.”

  “Need more than that.”

  “You, all of you.”

  Christ, hearing Liberty tell me she wanted all of me was a dagger to the heart. Too bad she hadn’t meant those words. Just hearing them again made the heartbreak intensify.

  “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

  “Then show me.”

  “Say no.”

  My heart pounded against my ribs and I was choking for oxygen. This couldn’t be fucking happening.

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Say no, baby. Too late. Mouth, I want your mouth when I fuck you, baby.”

  “Anything you want, Drake.”

  “Enough!” I shouted and my hands went to my hair yanking handfuls until my scalp tingled. “Who the fuck recorded that?”

  “Told you, it was sent anonymously to the troop commander.”

  “Did anyone trace that shit?”

  “Sure did, came from an unsecure computer in the exchange. No way to track who used the computer.”

  Fucking shit.

  Anger rolled through, my mind still muddled with Liberty’s cries of pleasure. Someone had taken the single best moment of my life and turned it into an X-rated shit show for my commanding officers to hear. Moans and private words, meant for just the two of us had been shared and exploited.

  “What do I need to do to keep Liberty clear of this?”

  “Not sure you can.”

  Wrong answer.

  “So, what, this shit was just emailed over? No demand, no explanation? Nothing?”

  “Nothing. Lennard is recommending we handle this in-house. A summarized article 15, fourteen days duty, and leave it at that.”

  In other words, sweep it under the rug, saving me from an article 135, a possible dismissal, forfeiture of monies owed, and the possibility of two years in the brig.

  “And Liberty?”