Liberty At Last (The Liberty Series) (48 page)

Matthew put his arm around me and propped me up. “Nice house, huh?” he whispered to me, trying to be normal. “Business up front, party in the back.”

“Ha ha,” I whispered back, trying to regain my composure. I held up the gun John had given me and followed Matthew and Corey inside. Angel’s home made the
Byzantine
look like a shack. There were marble floors, soaring ceilings, and large stone statues of lions. It was opulence beyond comprehension. I heard more shots and a few screams, coming from around the corner, and my heart stopped — but then then Jake and John came around, moving quickly and quietly, and I said a silent prayer of thanks. All of the guys had their guns drawn and they were scanning the house, ready to shoot anything that moved.

“There’s a staircase over there,” John said, motioning to where he’d come from. “Our first priority is to get Ian. Then Catherine. Feel free to shoot Angel Morales,” John said, looking at the guys. “I think he’s proven he’s not suitable in-law material.”

And then it was go-time. The knot in my stomach was more like a pile of boulders, making me feel like I was moving slowly. Everything took on an air of unreality then, like I was trapped inside a nightmare. But it was real, and we were really going down into the depths of Angel Morales’s house.

Well, when you put it that way,
my inner voice said,
FUCK
.

For once, I couldn’t agree with her more. But this was personal. Like Matthew had said, when it was
personal
, people did crazy shit. Like this.

We made it around the corner and down half of the staircase, moving so quickly that I didn’t have time to count the dead bodies on the kitchen floor. There were two more guards at the bottom of the stairs. One of them must have hit a panic button because a horrible, wailing siren filled the air; they started firing and I ducked, then watched as John shot one and Corey managed to shoot the other. When we made it to the bottom Corey managed to turn the siren off. I leaned against the wall for a moment, the world threatening to go black again.
This was too much. It was all too much.

But it was for Ian. It was too much, but we couldn’t just let Ian rot here with these monsters. I made myself take a deep breath and stand up straight.

There were two hallways. Matthew went part way down one and then motioned for us to follow him. “I’m going to leave you here with Jake,” John said, briefly clutching my hand. “I don’t know how many of them are down there, but I need you to protect the stairs. Shoot anyone who comes down. Do you understand?”

I nodded at him, not letting myself get emotional. “I will be right back,” he said. “And then I’m going to get you out of here. I promise.”

My heart constricted painfully as I watched the three of them disappear silently down the hall. Jake paced in front of me, checking and re-checking his ammo, looking up the stairs, looking down the path that they’d taken. He was a big ball of nervous energy. Then we heard shots coming from the hallway where they’d gone. And screaming — screaming in pain and screaming in anger. I looked at Jake in horror. “You have to go down there,” I whispered, shaking. There were more shots. Jake looked down the hall. “Go,” I said. “Go now! I’ll guard the stairs. You have to make sure they’re safe,” I begged, miserably.
They had to be safe. Please, god.

“I have my gun,” I pleaded. “I’ll be fine — I swear.
Just go!
”

Now it was Jake’s turn to look miserable. For one long moment, he stood there and the battle of what to do played out on his face, but then he nodded at me and ran down the hall. And then, there were no more gunshots. I didn’t know if that was a very good thing or a very, very bad thing.

It was eerily quiet. And then I heard a low moan. It was coming from down the other hallway. I heard it again and it sent chills down my spine. There was something familiar about it. I had to go look.
If I can keep John safe, and Matthew and Jake and Corey, it’s worth it,
I reasoned to myself.
I’ll just look — I’ll clear it.
But my stomach was filled with the sort of dread that only a nightmare can bring. Like the dream knew what it had in store for you.
You
were the only one that didn’t know what horrors lay ahead.

The hallway was long and dark. I stood, pressed up against the wall, and listened to the sound of my heart thudding in my ears.
Just a little further,
I thought.
Just a little further and I’ll be able to put an end to all of this.
I hoped.

I made myself move down the hall. I heard a rustling — it was someone, something. I didn’t know who or what it was, but I knew it was waiting for me.

I put my finger on the trigger and raised the gun. I could feel the sweat running down my palm.

At the end of the hall was a room with a door slightly ajar. I could see some dim light spilling through. I heard another rustle, and then a moan. The voice was familiar. It was a person I loved. Another person that I loved, hurting.

I was
so
going to end this. If I could just stop shaking. And sweating.

I made my way down to the door and pushed it open a crack. I tried to look inside: the limited view was only of stone floor and bare walls. No one was visible. I took the safety off my gun and opened the door.

I couldn’t believe what I saw. He was on the floor, bound, gagged and bleeding.

“NO!”
I screamed, going to him, throwing myself down on the floor next to him.
“NO! NO! NO!”

And that’s when I looked up. Into the cold, piercing eyes of my truest enemy.

“
No,” I whispered, shaking my head, tears falling down my face.
This couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be happening, any of it.

“No. You can’t do this, you can’t have him. He’s
mine,
” I said fiercely.

That’s when my enemy laughed, and my whole world went black.

I didn’t stay under for long. I didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse, but when I opened my eyes, she was still sitting there, looking misshapen.

I wanted to examine her ruined face but I turned to Ian first. He appeared to be knocked out, or asleep, I couldn’t tell. He’d been badly beaten, and there was blood running out of the corner of his eye. He was tied up but I checked his pulse, something useful I’d learned at John’s training camp. He was alive. His pulse was strong. Then I turned to her.

“How could you,” I said, seething. “He’s your
grandfather
. Your
blood
.”

Catherine’s face was badly swollen and bruised; she was barely recognizable. “You think
I
did this to him?” she asked, and laughed again. It was only then I realized that her laughter was completely without humor, bordering on hysteria. It was the hollow laughter of someone who’d seen the devil, who knew what was coming and wasn’t at all excited about it.

“Didn’t you?” I asked, sitting up. Interestingly enough, she’d left me my gun. I looked at it, curiously, as if seeing it for the first time.

“No, you fuckwad,” she said, finally sounding a little bit like her former bold, self-satisfied self. “I would never hurt Ian. This is a
message
,” she said, rolling her eyes in her swollen head. “It’s from Angel.”

“Is it the same message he wrote on your face?” I asked, unable to gauge her feelings.

“It
is
, Liberty. Who knew you were so smart? Putting together all the pieces,” she said, sarcastically.

“What’s the message?” I asked weakly. “I can’t pretend I’m so smart that I understand it.”

Catherine frowned at me; it looked like frowning hurt. “The message,” she said, “is that no one can be trusted. Not even one’s wife,” she said, her eyes spilling over with unexpected tears.

I gaped at her.
Angel did this because he didn’t trust her?

“You didn’t do anything, though. We
kidnapped
you,” I said. “He can’t blame you for that. You came back as soon as you could!”

She looked at me for a beat and I struggled to find her normal face amid the bruised puffiness. “He’s so paranoid, Liberty: I could still be a spy,” she whispered. “I could still be selling him out to someone. The American government. Another cartel. Someone.”

“But you’re not,” I said, sitting up and looking at her. “Didn’t you tell him what happened? That we tried to make you stay, but you couldn’t wait to get back? That you threw your whole family over for him?”

Her tears streaked her awful, bruised, puffy cheeks. “That’s not good enough,” she said. “Not when you’re running one of the biggest drug companies in the world. And I kept trying to call my mother,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “He forbid it, but I didn’t want to have to say goodbye. Not again.” She broke down in sobs then, and I would have gotten up to comfort her, but I didn’t want to leave Ian’s side.

“So he told me he had to test me,” she said, forcing herself to calm down. “He tied me up and beat me, asking me if I was a traitor. Then he told me that he’d gotten Ian, and that I had to kill him to prove my loyalty.”

“But you didn’t do this?” I asked, motioning to him. I needed to know the truth.

“Of course not!” she snapped. “I already told you! Do you really think I’d do something like that?” I looked at her for a beat and neither one of us said anything. “Did you really think you were so much better than me?” she asked, finally.

“I was hoping I was,” I said.

“People aren’t that different,” she said, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have put my cigarettes out on you, but I’d never kill you in cold blood.”

I nodded at her. “Good to know,” I said. Inexplicably, we both laughed.

“We have to get him out of here,” I said. “Can you help?”

She limped over to us and helped me pick up Ian, grimacing as she did so. Up close, her bruised and swollen face looked ghastly, ghoulish. “Angel is waiting for me to come find him,” Catherine said. We looked at each other, again. An understanding passed between us.

Maybe we weren’t so different, after all.

We carried Ian down the hall and placed him against the wall at the bottom of the stairwell.

“Where is Angel waiting for you?” I asked.

“Upstairs in his office,” she said.

“Everybody upstairs is dead,” I said.

“I doubt it,” she said. “I don’t have very good luck.”

She started limping up the stairs and I followed, leaving Ian at the bottom, worrying that I was making a horrible mistake. But I didn’t hear John, and I didn’t know how much time we had left. We made it to the top of the stairs and stepped into the bright sunlight of the kitchen.

And into the range of a large pistol, held by Angel Morales.

He pointed it at Catherine’s face and briefly turned his cloudy eyes my way, to where I stood behind her. “Put down your weapon,” he said, in perfect English. I followed his orders and slid my gun across the floor to him, my heart wailing as I watched it skid away from me.

Catherine and Angel looked at each other and I watched as Angel pointed his gun at her.

“Angel,” she started, her hands on her hips, sounding like she was trying to reason with him.

“Just stop,” he said. “
Me traicionaste.
You’ve betrayed me.”

“Yes, I did,” Catherine said, calmly, like she was talking to a small child. I’d never heard her use this tone before — it was kind and patient. “I didn’t realize it until now, but I still want my family. And you’re not my only family, Angel. I miss my mother,” she said, and although I couldn’t see her face, it sounded like she was crying again. “You aren’t the only one I care about anymore. If you could accept this, you’d know that I still love you, too.”

“I don’t believe that,” Angel said. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t be doing this to me. Sneaking around, using your phone behind my back. You know I can’t have that in my house. I told you what I needed from you and you swore you’d give it to me. Now you’ve broken that promise. And you know what happens to the people who break their promises to me.” His cloudy eyes looked almost tender for a moment, and it looked like he actually loved her. But there was something more important to Angel than love, I guess, because I only saw a flash of regret as he pulled the safety off his gun.

I held my breath and then watched as Catherine briefly patted her fingertips against her lower back. She’d had her hands on her hips the whole time and she was moving her fingers, trying to motion to me —

— to bring my attention to the handgun that was sticking out of the back of her pants. I grabbed it and before he could shoot his wife, I shot Angel Morales.
I shot him dead.