Taking Liberty: The Next Generation

by Edwards, Riley

  Brady’s eyes came to mine and it was the first time I’d ever seen any humor in them. Though it was a teeny-tiny bit, it still counted.

  “Think maybe I let you win?” Brady asked.

  I feigned shock and shrugged. “Well, if you did, that’s your mistake. I still win.”

  Brady shook his head and gave a ghost of a smile. “You’re nuts.”

  “Actually, my therapist doesn’t call it nuts, she says my brain is processing a traumatic event,” I sassed.

  I watched in horror as the shutters slammed down over Brady’s emotions and his eyes turned pained and blank.

  Oh, no.

  Carter saw it, too. He actually flinched.

  Drake, being as observant as Carter, therefore not missing it either jumped in. “Let’s head back to the office. I’m starving.”

  We policed our brass, pulled down the paper targets we’d been shooting at, and started the walk back to the office.

  Drake grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze.

  Yeah, he saw Brady shut down.

  It had been three days since my episode in the shower. Three really awesome days. The only thing that sucked was that as the days passed, the time to go back to work drew closer. Part of me was ready, but there was a small part that dreaded going back.

  I’d be close. Post was only a forty-minute drive. But I’d yet to talk to Drake about finding a place together, somewhere in the middle so neither of our commutes would be horrible. But he hadn’t brought it up, either. He was taking things at my pace. He’d reiterated that when he drove me to therapy yesterday. He didn’t come in, he waited outside in his truck. I appreciated him knowing without me telling him I needed to do it on my own. Even walking into my doctor’s office.

  Mom was right, Drake paid attention.

  We’d gotten word yesterday that the special operations division of the DC metro police had found a bomb in Marko Kushnir’s briefcase. Scarily it was the exact setup that Trey had said it would be. How Marko thought he’d get away with bringing an explosive device into a UN meeting was beyond me. But as Drake pointed out, ego made a man dumb. And Marko had an ego the size of Texas. Unfortunately, there’d been no sign of Roman.

  That worried me.

  Dad, Mom, and the uncles had doubled their efforts, even calling in a team they knew out of Maryland to help in their investigation. Brady, Carter, and Drake were pulled off the Roman hunt because Triple Canopy still had to keep the doors open. There was a SWAT team coming in to train next week and the three of them needed to get everything ready.

  Drake wasn’t happy, but he understood. At least that’s what he told me.

  Carter opened the back door of the office and held it as we entered. None of us were paying attention. As a matter of fact, I was contemplating how I was going to convince Drake to have sex with me since he still hadn’t taken us there, though he was generous with giving me orgasms.

  With my mind on sex and Carter grumbling about how he now had to eat a PB&J and how he was going to puke, no one saw it.

  Not a single one of us was paying attention until it was too late.

  The threat was upon us.

  Everything happened in the blink of an eye, yet everything slowed.

  A man grabbed Drake by the back of his shirt and pressed a gun to his temple. Brady disappeared around the corner. Both Carter and I drew our weapons and pointed them in the direction of the man holding Drake.

  “What the fuck,” Carter growled, his tone more deadly than I’d ever heard.

  I quickly assessed the situation. We were in a tight space. The man moved backward, taking Drake with him.

  Where the fuck is everyone?

  Then my eyes hit the man’s chest and I saw it.

  A suicide vest.

  No, no, no.

  My vision blurred, memories of Lore threatening to invade my mind.

  “Good to see you again, Moira.”

  My gaze snapped to the man and my body ached with phantom pains. I knew that voice. I’d never forget it. It haunted my dreams.

  “Roman,” I breathed.

  “Ah, you finally say my name. I see now that’s what was missing during our time together, you calling out my name as you begged for your life.”

  I heard the feral growl from Drake and prayed he wouldn’t do something stupid.

  My eyes went to his brown ones and they weren’t warm and melty like they were this morning when we’d woken up tangled together.

  They were lethal.

  I knew I had a matter of minutes before Drake did something crazy. I begged him with my eyes to stay still, not to fight. I watched the tension coil tighter as he read my plea.

  Brady would be coming up behind Roman through the reception area, blocking Roman from exiting the building.

  Where the hell is everyone?

  “I don’t remember begging you for anything,” I replied, hoping all of his attention came to me.

  “You’ll beg this time, bitch. You all will.”

  “That’s doubtful, Roman. You’ve got one chance to end this with you still alive. Let him go and you walk out of here.”

  Roman smiled. The expression made him look maniacal—which scared the shit out of me.

  Desperate men do desperate things. But men with nothing to lose are the most dangerous kind of men. I’d heard my dad say that, and watching Roman now with a gun to Drake’s head, a vest strapped on, I knew my dad was right.

  Roman was the most dangerous kind of man—he’d take us all out. Including himself.

  “I got nothing left but this. Nothing!” he roared. The shout had to have pierced Drake’s eardrum but he didn’t move, didn’t flinch. Just kept his eyes on me. I didn’t know how that was possible.

  “Carter, back up,” I said.

  “No, Carter, don’t fucking move. After all, it was your fucking piece-of-shit father that killed mine. Finally I get what’s owed to me.”

  Roman shifted and I raised the barrel of my Glock just a fraction to stay on target. Roman’s free hand went into his pocket and out came a cell. His thumb slid across the screen and I didn’t waste another second.

  My focus sharpened and three red dots aligned. Then with a steady, practiced press of the trigger, I fired.

  Drake moved with lightning speed, disarming Roman even though it was fruitless. Roman’s body pitched, hit the wall, and he slid down.

  The man was dead.

  My world tilted.

  A ripple of nausea rolled through me. There was commotion all around me. Brady came into view, Carter rushed to Drake.

  “Saw the vest, hit the cell jammer on my way around.”

  That was good news.

  My head was filled with chaos, but a different kind, it wasn’t cluttering my mind, it was searching, scanning. There was something I needed to remember but couldn’t.

  Carter, Drake, and Brady were talking, I could see their lips moving, but I couldn’t hear a damn thing.

  Remember, dammit.

  I glanced at Roman’s dead body and felt a twinge of remorse. Blood spilled from his forehead and dripped on the carpet. His legs were folded unnaturally for the way he’d fallen. A phone laid next to him, and…

  “The vest,” I shouted and sprinted toward Roman, skidding to a halt as I bent to grab his ankles.

  I pulled him down the hall to the back door with a super-human strength I didn’t know I possessed.

  “Brady jammed—”

  “Lore always has a secondary power source.”

  Drake and Carter rushed me. Carter sprinted past, Drake stopped to heft Roman’s upper body up. I heard the back door crash open—which was a good thing because I’d momentarily forgotten we were indoors and I would’ve smashed into it.

  We were ten feet out the door with me running backward when Brady caught up. I knew he was about to take over. And I was okay with that. I’d made a promise to myself never to allow my need to prove myself put anyone in harm’s way.

  Brady and Drake would be fas
ter.

  The exchange of Roman’s legs from me to Brady was smooth and flawless. Neither of us skipped a beat as I jumped out of their way and the men spirited Roman—who happened to be a bomb now—away from the building.

  I watched with fascination as they stopped, swung, and literally threw Roman. His body landed with a bounce. Both men turned.

  Drake’s face screwed up in fury and he shouted, “Run!”

  Snapping out of my trance, I turned on my heel and ran.

  Then my world exploded at the same time a very large body tackled me to the ground and covered mine.

  It might have been minutes or maybe seconds. Suddenly Drake was on his feet and I was in his arms and he was carrying me. I glanced up, saw the angry set of his jaw, and smiled. My dirt-covered hand went to his face and I pressed my palm to his cheek. His eyes lowered to mine—no less pissed but no longer lethal.

  “We need to stop meeting this way,” I joked.

  Drake shook his head, not amused in the slightest. Which only made me smile bigger.

  My man took my safety seriously.

  “I love you.”

  Drake’s step faltered, his chest expanded as he drew in a gulp of oxygen. When he let it out, he smiled.

  “I love you, too, baby. So damned much. But the next time there’s a goddamn bomb, you take cover. You do not stand around waiting for the show.”

  “Noted.”

  Then I burst out laughing and listened to Drake grumble about tanning my ass.

  Yes. Please.

  41

  “Honey, we’re gonna be late,” Liberty whispered.

  “Don’t care.” My mouth continued to work her neck, nibbling, biting, tasting.

  Liberty’s head tilted to the side, her leg hitched higher on my hip, and I knew she didn’t really care about being late. I also knew she didn’t care about me taking her again even though I’d just had her.

  I hadn’t allowed her to get up and clean up before I reached into the nightstand next to our bed and came back with a huge-ass diamond and slipped it on her finger. I didn’t get the words out before she shouted yes, lifted her head, and kissed me.

  “I wanna show my ring off.” Liberty’s hands slowly roamed my back. Something she did whenever she could. She told me she liked touching her tattoo. When I explained the tattoo was on my body, therefore mine, she smiled and said, “Same thing.” I couldn’t argue with that because she was right, I was hers—and she was mine.

  And now that my ring was sitting at the base of her left ring finger, she’d be mine in a different way soon.

  But I knew she was full of shit. She didn’t want to show her ring off, she wanted to show her man off. We were due to her parents’ house for a barbecue, this being the first time everyone would be together since I’d moved to Georgia. I’d met everyone except Nick, Meadow, and their kids.

  And she’d been talking about it all week, how she couldn’t wait for me to meet them.

  They could wait.

  “You think I’m gonna slide my ring on your finger and not slide inside of you, you’re crazy.”

  Liberty started shaking with laughter and I paused to enjoy the feel of it. After I let that wash over me, I memorized it, even though I didn’t need to. Liberty laughed a lot these days.

  It’d been three months since Roman died. Two months and three weeks since we’d moved in together.

  For the first week after Roman, we’d all watched Liberty carefully. The fucker had invaded a place that had always been safe for her and we were all waiting for a sign that she wasn’t handling that intrusion in a healthy way. But that day something had changed in her and it was fucking beautiful to witness.

  First, when that asswipe got the drop on me, I watched Liberty slip into quiet professional. She didn’t panic, she didn’t freak. She assessed, processed, and determined her course of action. I had the barrel of that asshole’s gun at my temple but I had my woman standing in front of me. And in that moment, I knew to my soul Liberty would have my back—all I had to do was wait.

  And it’s a damn good thing my woman’s a good shot because her bullets zipped past my head with inches to spare.

  Liberty remained calm and cool when the police, fire, and rescue squads showed. Thank God, Blake and the guys had left for lunch so they weren’t there. But Lauren was, and unfortunately, she’d caught the brunt of Roman’s wrath. He’d beat her unconscious. Levi, Jasper, Clark, and Lenox proved they were the men I knew them to be and had taken care of Lauren, her medical bills, and she’d recuperated at Reagan and Clark’s house.

  It shocked the shit out of me when two weeks after the attack, the shy, quiet woman showed up to work. Levi had wanted her to take another week of paid leave but she’d gone toe-to-toe with him and refused to leave. Lauren was a little bit of all right. She fit in at Triple Canopy even if she wasn’t in-your-face tough—the woman had inner strength.

  The night after everything went down, we were at her parents’ house for dinner and it was like a switch had flipped. Liberty was happy and smiling while at the same time sad about Lauren, but what she wasn’t doing was dwelling, second-guessing, or freaking out.

  I thought she was just in shock. When I gently questioned her, she smiled and said, “I’m finally free.”

  It hit me then, she was free.

  Free of Roman.

  Freed from the worry he was still out there.

  Yes, indeed, Liberty was finally free.

  She had her control back.

  “Drake,” Liberty moaned when I pulled one of her nipples into my mouth and swirled my tongue over the tight nub.

  When I was done, I let go and said, “You like my mouth, baby?”

  “You know I do.”

  Yeah, she did. She loved my mouth—tits, neck, belly, between her legs, or on hers.

  I drew in her other nipple, laved it with the same attention, and she started wiggling.

  “You want something?”

  “You know I do,” she repeated.

  I traced a path from her nipple to her throat with my tongue, pausing just long enough to give her a nip before I continued up her neck, pausing again just below her ear.

  “Spread for me, baby.”

  I felt the tremble before I rolled between her legs, the tip of my dick notched into her wetness and she mewed.

  “Tell me,” I demanded.

  Liberty righted her head and gave me her gaze, just like she always did.

  Every time.

  She gave me what I wanted—her eyes, then the words.

  “Love you, Drake.”

  Christ, I loved hearing that.

  I drove in, slid deep, and stilled. I knew she’d ask, I just had to wait her out.

  “Please, Drake.”

  Fuck, but I loved that, too.

  “Want your mouth, Liberty.”

  I watched my girl’s eyes flare, the unusual amber color heated, and she gifted me with a blinding smile. She didn’t give me her mouth, but what she gave me was better.

  “I’m gonna be Liberty Hayes.”

  Christ.

  I shoved my face in her neck, bared my teeth, and raked them across her sensitive skin until her hips tipped up in invitation and her nails dug into my back.

  “You make me happy,” I told her as I pulled out. “So damn happy.” Then I drove home.

  I didn’t stop my pounding thrusts or my bites at her neck until she chanted my name between pants.

  “Harder,” she begged.

  I didn’t go harder but I slid my hand between us and started thumbing her clit.

  “Oh, yeah,” she purred.

  “Give it to me,” I demanded.

  “Not yet.”

  “Greedy.” I added pressure and speed at her clit. “You can’t hold out forever, baby.”

  My taunt did exactly what I’d hoped and she clamped her pussy tight around my cock. She did this in an effort to make me go before her. She did it every time, and every time, she lost.

  My girl
was competitive—with everything.

  But so was I.

  “Baby, you know I love your pussy. Love it more when you tighten around me. But you know I’m gonna win.”

  I bit down on her shoulder, heard her whimper, and knew I had her. She was close, so close her pussy was clutching my dick, and her excitement was leaking out every time I surged in.

  Fuck, she was killing me.

  “Liberty—”

  “I’m there,” she announced unnecessarily.

  Her back arched, thighs tightened at my sides, then her hand dove into my hair and latched on, yanking it as her pussy convulsed.

  Thank Christ.

  “Mouth,” I growled.

  Liberty tilted her head enough to give me what I asked for. Her lips parted and my tongue tangled with hers. The kiss was long, wet, and rough. The orgasm was better, best I’ve had, and that was saying something because every one Liberty gave me was the best.

  Pure magic—every part of her.

  But this time, I was pouring into my fiancée.

  My present.

  My future.

  My fate.

  * * *

  I pulled up in front of the McCoys’ house and stopped.

  “Gonna let you out here.”

  “Why?”

  “Um.” I glanced out the windshield. “I’m gonna have to park around the corner.”

  “That’s okay, I can walk.”

  I looked back at Liberty and shook my head. “You’re not walking a mile, babe. Hop down.”

  Thankfully, before she could say anything else and turn a pointless conversation into the world’s dumbest argument, the Walker twins bounced out of the house, stopping on the porch and waving. The women weren’t identical twins, but they might as well have been.

  “I’ll get out here,” she stated, and I didn’t bother to hide my chuckle. “What?”

  “Nothing, babe.”

  “What? You know I can walk. It’s no big deal—”

  My hand shot out and I hooked her around the back of her neck, pulled her to me, and slammed my mouth on hers. She opened, my tongue plunged in, I kissed her quiet, and I did this for a long time. When we broke apart, her eyes were hazy and her lips swollen. The look complemented the freshly fucked glow she still wore. It was highly unlikely she’d be pleased to know she was walking into a family party with ten men in attendance—one being her father—and they’d catch sight of her and know.