18. Sawyer
SAWYER
In the morning, Aiden walks me to the Nurturer’s compound to check on Liberty.
They’ve put her on the top floor, closed off from the Shadow Sanctum members.
When I enter the bedroom much like the one I was shown at The Grove, she’s sitting at a small table with an untouched tray of food in front of her.
Her face is sunken, her eyes hollow like already, she’s slipped into depression.
Thorne stretches out on the thick windowsill, eyes heavy as if he’s bored. They both seem to notice Aiden and me at the same time because their posture stiffens together. Both of them sit up straight and turn to glare. Contempt couldn’t be more synced if they’d choreographed it.
My shoe squeaks tile as I come to a halt. “Good morning.”
“What is the Dreg doing here?” Thorne snaps at Aiden as he springs to his feet.
Aiden shifts to my side with a protective force, his chest wider than usual. I could see Luna asking him to intervene with the inevitable strikes, but part of me hopes she didn’t.
He and I get a little closer every day. I’m pretty sure it was him who saw last night’s X-rated movie on my bedroom security footage—if his red face and averting eyes this morning were any indication. “Mr. Hansley would like to accompany Miss Liberty on a walk.”
“Did Luna order this?”
Aiden shakes his head. “I’m to follow your orders, sir. The Head Keeper has asked not to be bothered.”
Thorne’s face flickers with the uncertainty of a person who’s never had to think for themselves. I’m half tempted to search for a ‘What Would Luna Do’ bracelet wrapped around his wrist.
Pathetic.
“Liberty wants nothing to do with the Dreg, and he should be working regardless. He goes from his room to the library and nowhere in between. Do you understand?”
Aiden is quiet for a moment. I look over to watch the confliction dance in his eyes. He too wears a WWLD bracelet.
“It’s fine.”
All eyes turn to Liberty. She pushes the tray of food away, knocking into a glass of milk that rattles before it steadies.
A stream of white slinks beneath the tray, and in true Liberty fashion, she stands without notice or care of the chaos.
A baggy green sweater flattens against her chest as she crosses her arms and leaves Thorne to clean up her mess.
Or not.
She walks right past me to a drawer on the other side of the room and retrieves a towel—in the very first place she looks. Even for a virus, the woman is quick to learn her host.
As she cleans the spill, my eyes drift to the tree outside the window. It isn’t until she finishes that I realize my jaw is clenched.
When she goes to take a step in my direction, Thorne grasps her arm.
I tense, my eyes zeroing in on that hand, body leaning forward as if ready to pounce. But Liberty doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t pull away.
She rests a hand over his. “It’s okay… I need this.”
Her voice is so soft, it grates across my ears like cotton dotted with glass. A muscle jumps in my hand while I grow increasingly hot.
No fucking way.
Thorne’s face softens. Reluctantly, he nods, and his grasp releases as he addresses Aiden. “Keep a close distance.”
“Of course, sir.”
“So… I heard you want me dead.”
Hands stuffed inside the pocket of Thorne’s enormous coat, Liberty scoffs with a flip of her hair. The movement assaults my nose with a whiff of apples and lye—Liberty with a trace of Thorne.
Part of me wishes Angel could see this, see his wife with another man’s jacket wrapped around her after one fucking day.
There’s little I could say that would pierce Angel’s obsession, but surely the utter deja vu of the leech seeking the arms of yet another misguided soul would be enough to finally, finally see the truth.
He’d probably just call her a survivor.
“I want plenty of things for you,” Liberty says. “Most of them involve you screaming and thrashing with some sort of instrument attached to your stupid fucking mouth. None involve you breathing by the end of it.”
“Wow… Graphic.”
“You should read my journal.”
“Am I gonna see Thorne’s name doodled on the cover?”
Her pace slows, eyes narrowed as she turns her head.
Good.
Let’s get this over with.
“What did you just say to me?”
“You looked oddly cozy with his hand on your arm… And I didn’t see any hesitation when he offered his jacket.”
She stops altogether, her body swinging as she juts a finger in my face. I glimpse Aiden twenty or so yards away. He stops and gives me a little wave to tell me we’re all good.
“Fuck. You. You lying, manipulative, scum-sucking piece of shit. I cannot wait until you’re dead so I can piss on your grave, you—”
I bat her hand away from my face. “Are you gonna fuck him, yes or no?”
Her eyes bugged, she clenches her jaw and just stares at me. It’s a no. It’s an obvious no. But finally, she grinds it out.
“No.”
“Good. Because this isn’t the island, Liberty. You’re not fucking your way out of here. That guy is not going to save you, so if you think even for a second—”
“Sawyer.” Her jaw trembles—tight, like she’s holding it in place. “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you. I’m not kidding.”
I close my mouth and look back at Aiden when he calls my name. He rolls his hand in a let’s get a move on gesture.
Facing forward, I nod down the path and start that way. Liberty and I are quiet for several minutes while her anger and my contempt simmer between us.
After a year of trying to rewrite this woman’s story in my mind (she’s Angel’s wife; she’s not that bad; I’m partly to blame), I think I forgot how much I dislike her.
Little things like the way she walks—too proud, almost arrogant. And the way she speaks, always blurting out, never taking time to consider her words. Or her actions. Or her future.
All blunt force, no trauma.
“I have a plan,” I say at last when we’re dangerously close to our destination.
Liberty’s shoulders lift as she pulls Thorne’s coat tighter. “I know. I wouldn’t be out here if you didn’t.”
I glance over to see her jaw still tight. But she’s subtly moving closer to me, ear cocked with an eagerness I force myself to notice.
Same team. We’re on the same team.
“You’re not gonna like it.”
“As much as I didn’t like the first part of your plan to have me kidnapped and raped by an inbred cult?”
She nods when I just stare. “Yeah. The white witch let me in on their breeding operation. So, thank you very much for that.”
My head tipping up, I search for a drone. They’re so tiny, spotting them is a challenge I haven’t yet conquered; but even if the control-room keepers aren’t listening, Luna is. She’d never allow this to happen if she wasn’t.
“No one is going to touch you… We’ll be out of here before anyone has the chance… I promise.”
Liberty huffs. “Your promises mean nothing.”
“If they meant nothing, you wouldn’t hear me out.”
She peeks at me. Fear shows in the downward curve of her lips, the wrinkles of her nose.
“Just… tell me the plan.”
A muted pop sounds in my ears as my teeth tap. There’s a very thin line to walk here, and almost every conversation I’ve imagined has ended with Liberty blowing up. It was only this morning—a half hour after setting everything into motion—that I decided to clue her in at all.
It’s dangerous, the chance of backfire high. And Liberty’s input is truly the last thing I need or want or could tolerate.
But the plan works better this way.
“There are names we shouldn’t say here, just in case anyone is listening… You get that, right?”
Liberty’s frown deepens. “Yes.”
As I nod, my shoe catches on a rock and knocks me off rhythm. In this two second delay, I almost rethink everything.
“They’re having me find them girls to… you know, breed. That’s why they’re keeping me here.”
“I gathered that.”
“Right… Well, we both know how badly you-know-who wants you back and how ruthless he can be when somebody takes his toys… I think we should tell him where you are.”
“No.”
Sharp. Immediate. Final. Because the very first thought that pops into her head must be correct—no need to think it through.
I slow my pace to a crawl while Liberty sneers.
“You really are a piece of shit, but you are delusional as hell if you think I’m going to lure him here. You think I haven’t seen the guards? You think Thorne hasn’t mentioned the electric fences? You’re not enslaving me and getting my … getting him killed.”
She says it so forcefully, like this is actually a discussion. I blow out a breath while rubbing the back of my neck. “Okay, well, what’s your plan then?”
“Watch them smarten up and kill you.”
A sharp buzz pricks my ears as I hum. “Was that your contribution to your friends on the island, too?”
“No, Sawyer. I was much more proactive.”
My lips pinch as something sours my tongue. “Yes, I remember.”
Liberty’s steps falter as the memory must hit her the way it hits me. Liberty is many things, but cold isn’t one of them.
Awkwardness fuses between us until I can’t help but drift away, one foot sloping the edge of the sidewalk. Liberty’s arms fold across her stomach.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen… If I’d known Annie was going to be hurt, I would have…”
“Forget it.” I shake my head. “I’m the monster, right? You—you’re pitifully innocent. A modern day Cinderella. And your Prince Charming?” I belt out a bitter laugh. Shake my head. “If you had any idea the shit I’ve seen him do, you would run for the hills.”
“It’s hard to run anywhere when you shackle me at every opportunity. Ang—” She cuts herself off. “He may have a past. But next to you? Anyone could look like a hero.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
She slides in front of me and shoves a hand at my chest. “No, Sawyer. Fuck you. Fuck you for being such a coward, you’d bring my husband here to fight your battles. Fuck you for stealing years of his life with your mind games and twisted sense of friendship.