Page 27 of Liberty
Oak slammed the closet door with his foot, an armful of dresses filling his hands. “I’ve spent too fucking long sleeping with a fucking knife under my pillow waiting for you both to stake me in my sleep to think there isn’t a trap happening here.”
“Oak man, when did you get so distrusting and paranoid?” I cooed.
He tilted his head from side to side. “Oh, I don’t know. Since I got my throat ripped into by a ravenous vampire, my blood drained, then rehydrated to live the life of pure, never-ending hell.”
Ellis nodded. “Well, yeah. I guess that would do it to you.”
“Two hundred years, and someone still holds a grudge.” I would not admit out loud that a part of me did too. This life was fucking miserable, no matter how you spun it.
The door creaked open, and the raven-haired goddess appeared, her hair still damp as she used a towel to dry the ends. “So, where are we heading?”
The pale yellow dress paired with her black hair made my head spin, and it was a struggle to open my mouth and push words out, “Your choice; my apartment or the house.”
Liberty eyed me, assessing. “You live here.”
“I tend to like the city life. I’m more social than these two.” I used my thumbs to point at the men on each side. “Plus, it’s sort of the epicenter of the stock market, and that’s my thing this decade.”
“Hmm, it must be nice to pick and choose. Get a taste of everything you like,” she mused.
I couldn’t decide if she was mocking, and if she was teasing me, she had perfected the subtle mocking right down to Oak’s level. I cleared my throat to speak, “What do you do, sugar?”
“Sugar?” She laughed, and fuck, I felt like shrinking. “I’m an artist.”
I played it off like she hadn’t just dinged my ego. “I happen to like sugar.”
“So do I.”
My nerves were ultra-aware of just how close she was. Hell, with four of us in here, we were all close. I licked my lips, and I swore her eyes followed. “What type of artist?”
“Paint, mostly. Sculpting occasionally.”
Ellis snorted, “So you have a knack for color? Who would have thought with all this pink and floral?”
She turned to him. “I told you, it was a phase.”
“Phase or not, it’s a fucking monstrosity.”
“Look,” she sighed, “I didn’t want to have to point it out, but that shirt you’ve been sporting isn’t exactly going to win you prizes either.”
Ellis dared to look shocked and offended. “This shirt is vintage. I’ve owned it for forty years.”
“Exactly.”
It took Ellis a few moments to catch on, and when he did, he glared. “You know, you’re beginning to lose your appeal.”
“I think she’s just gained some,” Oak commented as he pushed passed Ellis and me. “Come on; we’ve got to meet with the lawyer in an hour.”
As it turns out,Mr. Collins was way more punctual than we were and was already waiting, even though we arrived early. When we stepped up to the door, it flung open, exposing the older man.
“Boys.” His eyes widened when he spotted Liberty. “Ma’am. It’s a pleasure to see you so soon.”
I patted the old man on the back. “Suddenly, you have manners? When I arrived, I believe you said, ‘Get the fuck inside, you’re letting out the cool air.’”
Mr. Collins sneered. “Yes, well. The bills on a house this size run rather high.”
I opened my mouth, about to let him know that he wasn’t fooling any of us with that bullshit excuse. James was rich, disgustingly so. If he didn’t leave enough money to pay for the last bills on the house, then where the fuck did he put it? Instead, Liberty’s tiny hand latched on to my bicep and squeezed.
She leaned into me and whispered, “Leave the old man alone, Sterling, he’s just doing his job.”