Page 20 of Liberty
Chapter 9
ELLIS
I followedLiberty to her apartment a few miles away. Sterling called a driver to pick us up, and ten minutes later, I was standing in the middle of a small one-bedroom apartment, contemplating if I wanted to sit on the pink futon or the pink stool.
“So, you like pink,” I stated.
“It was a phase. I’m ready for a change.” She shrugged before pulling the old shirt over her head and tossing it to the side, walking down the short hall in only her torn dress.
My eyes followed her, glued to her. Taking in every inch of her exposed smooth, creamy skin. “Well, I can promise you’re definitely in for a change.”
That wasn’t even a pickup line; it was the fucking truth. Everything that Liberty knew and believed until this point, was, well, about to be turned upside down in the most dramatic of ways. If what James thought was true, and Greta was after Liberty, she wouldn’t stop until she’d gotten what she wanted.
It wasn’t even about James any longer. It’s about the deception of his blood and life, carrying on when she motioned to stop it. How we come into play? Well, that’s still a mystery I’m trying to find out. But, I had a feeling we wouldn’t have long to wait for that answer. Not when my life went from dull and repetitious to riddled with action and mystery in only one night.
“You don’t have like x-ray vision or anything, right?” she called from inside her room.
I wish I did. “Not personally, Oak might, though.”
Wouldn’t that be hilarious? The most solemn of the three of us would be the one to get all the enjoyment and show little outward appreciation for it. If I hadn’t been picking up on his feelings for Liberty, I would have continued wondering if he batted for the other team.
Her head poked out. “Really?”
“No.”
“Hmm.” She disappeared again. “What’s his deal? Actually, what’s with all of you?”
“What do you mean?” I picked up a floral throw pillow and tossed it to the side.
“Like, you all are friends? Or enemies? The vibe’s a bit blurred.”
I looked toward the bedroom door before pulling open the coat closet. Seemed normal enough. “We used to be inseparable as children, but grew apart.”
I picked up a stack of mail, shifting through it. Mostly bills. “What caused that drift?”
She sounded like she was struggling. “A girl. Naturally.”
She strolled out of her room, and I dropped her mail right as she came into view. “Can you get this zipper? This dress is literally painted on, and I don’t want to have to cut it up unless it’s the last resort.”
Yes. Yes, it was.
She turned, exposing the offending zipper, and I brushed her hair out of the way before finding the tiny metal pull and sliding it down, not feeling an ounce of guilt or remorse when my skin brushed against hers.
“Thanks.” She smiled before walking back down to her room. “Was she worth it?”
“Apparently not. James said she was fucking another guy while we all fought over her.” If she was offended by my words, she didn’t say. “So, you picked this? Or it picked you?”
“God, no.” I huffed out a breath, trying to hide the emotion that always surfaced when the subject came up. “I think I could speak for all of us when I say I would never pick this life. I wished I died that day.”
“Oh,” was her only response before the room went quiet.
There was a shuffling before a door shut and water turned on. I used this opportunity to slink down the hall and into her bedroom, which luckily wasn’t nearly as pink. Still more floral than I preferred, though. Who was I to judge? If I remembered correctly, I went through a hideous bellbottoms stage in the 70s.
I watched the bathroom door for a moment before pulling open her dresser drawers, moving the clothes around to see what she was hiding. It wasn’t that I was suspicious of her; I was merely wary of the situation. Who wouldn’t be? Two days ago, I was staining a handmade table a beautiful shade of mahogany, and now? Well, now, my life was a runaway shit show, and I’d been unwillingly strapped to the front seat of the getaway car.
She had nothing useful in her dresser. Well, nothing useful, if you weren’t counting the drawer of tantalizing silk and lace. I’d never been more tempted to steal in my entire damn life. But, if that line were crossed, there would be no going back. Morals. I needed to stick to my morals, and just searching around her place was already walking a fine line in that department.
I checked under her bed, under her mattress, her closet, and had just pulled open her nightstand drawer when I heard the water shut off. I rifled around quickly inside before shutting it and heading back to the hideous pink couch nestled against the wall in the living room.