Rescuing Liberty: Perseverance Book 1 (14 page)

“
Let me help.” Connor
grabbed Bilfords hand and twisted off the ring.

Bilford nodded in thanks. “Tell Mary-Beth
I’ll be waitin’ for her.” He coughed again and blood sprayed his
chest. “There’s a pocket watch in my trunk. Was m’ daddy’s. Make
sure little Ricky gets it.”

“
Of course.” Connor
silently begged for more time. Rick Bilford was a good man. He was
supposed to retire next year. He wanted to be home for little Ricky
when the boy started high school. And now he wouldn’t even make it
to his kid’s eighth grade graduation.

“
Mi hermano,” Boom said,
grasping Bilford’s hand. “Save a spot for me at the Father’s
table.”

Bilford forced a smile. “Will do. Send me
off with a bang, my friend.”

Boom’s lips spread into a wide smile as he
felt for the remote in his pocket. As a precaution he’d laid C4
along the wall on the way in.

“
Momma Bird, we’re out of
the nest and we need air support.” Winters said into his radio.
Then he followed it with, “Copy. Ready to move.”

Winters signaled and the team took off
running. Seconds later the F-22 Raptor lowered. Popping sounds from
the air meant that the jet’s M61 provided the cover they needed.
Its twenty millimeter rounds tore up the ground behind the team as
they sprinted away from the village, heading for the protection of
the slope in front of them. They jumped over the ridge as Connor
did a quick head count.

“
Boom, Vaughn, Winters.”
Only four of six left. “Light it up, Boom.”

“
Father, guide their
souls.” Boom crossed himself again and pressed the
button.

* * *

Connor awoke with a crick in his neck from
sleeping in an awkward sitting position. His fingers explored the
scar on his chin, bringing the memory to life. Knuckling his
eyelids, he tried to blot out the vision of the child he’d killed.
Once again, age-old guilt wrapped around him, remind him that he
should have recognized the deception. He should have paid more
attention to what was happening outside. As the team’s commander,
he had let them down. Two men had died and he would never forgive
himself for their deaths. LeFord’s mom had screamed and cried out
in anguish when Connor closed her hand around her son’s dog tags.
Little Ricky had tried to be brave, but his eyes flooded with tears
when he accepted his father’s pocket watch.

Connor had never fully understood their pain
until he watched life ebb from Jacob’s eyes. Loss was the price of
loving someone. Connor had accepted that fact and had vowed not to
care deeply for anyone ever again.

Faint snoring sounds came from Ashley
and Liberty, grating on his nerves. He watched them sleep,
wondering what he’d gotten himself into. Ashley. She’d never
forgive him, and never love him. Especially not like she loved
Jacob. But it didn’t matter. Connor didn’t ask for a kid, and he
was sick and tired of looking after someone who despised
him.
Screw it, Jake. If you care so much,
you come take care of her.

Liberty looked so peaceful. He leaned
forward to kiss her, and her voice echoed in his head.
“I don’t want to like you.”
The words
she’d spoken earlier swirled around in his mind, reminding him that
nothing would ever be easy with Liberty. If he kissed her, she’d
probably punch him. He frowned at the woman who wanted nothing to
do with him, deciding that kissing her would probably be like
kissing frozen metal.

Liberty rolled to her side, turning her back
to him even in her sleep.

And I don’t want to like you either.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“PUT YOUR LITTLE foot, put your little foot,
put your little foot right out,” my grandfather sang as he led me
through the slow waltz. “Take a little step, take a little step,
take a little step right out.” He twirled me around and I giggled
like the grandpa’s little girl I would always be.

The room around us—if it could be called a
room—was white and void of all furniture or walls. The distance was
cloudy, and all I could see was right in front of me: my
grandfather. Lines creased his warm, loving face. Blue-grey eyes
that always sparkled with amusement and mischief stared down at
me.

Down at me
?
The last time I’d danced with my grandfather age had bent his back,
making me almost a foot taller than him. But at this moment in
time, I was frail and petite, standing in his shadow. My small hand
felt insignificant surrounded by his grizzled old paw. I stared
into the familiar eyes that seemed more than human.

“
Grandpa, am I …
dead?”

He stopped suddenly, and a loving smile
spread across his face. “No, my little Liberty Bell, God has plans
for your life.”

A tear slid down my cheek and I realized I
had been hoping for a different answer. “But I’m so tired,” I
complained.

He ignored the comment and led me into the
next step. “La de dumpty dah dah, la de dumpty dah dah.”

I didn’t want him to leave; didn’t want to
be alone. I held his hand tightly and prayed that the dance would
last forever.

* * *

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw
was Ashley’s worried face. She was biting her bottom lip and
staring out the window.

I’m not alone.

She jumped when I shifted and started to sit
up. My head objected to the change in elevation and vengefully made
me nauseous.

“
You’re awake!” Ashley
cheered.

I grimaced at her loud, high pitched voice,
and grunted in response.

“
What’s wrong? Can I get you
something? Are you hungry? You weren’t out for very long. Do you
want to go back to sleep?”

“
Stop.” I held my hands up. “Please.
Stop. I’m fine.”
Just after effects of a
minor mental breakdown.

She bit her lip and lowered her eyes at my
harsh tone.

Softening my voice, I added,
“But since you’re offering, I would like a half inch thick
prime rib, a huge salad with blue cheese dressing, a chocolate
cake, and a bottle of merlot.”

“
Uh-huh.” She stared at me
skeptically.

“
Okay fine, you big cheapskate, I’ll
settle for anything off the Taco Bell Menu. Well, anything but the
quesadillas, I never did like those much.”

“
You are so weird.” Relief replaced
worry in her eyes. She jumped on the bed and wrapped me in a bear
hug.

I tried not to throw up as her bouncing
jostled my upset stomach and rattled my traumatized brain.

“
You scared me,” she said. “You gonna
be okay?”

I took a deep breath and squeezed her back.
“Yeah, kiddo, I’m fine. Everything just seemed a bit overwhelming
and I needed time to deal. Understand?”

Ashley nodded, scampered off the bed and
disappeared. A few minutes later she returned with a glass of water
and two aspirin.

“
I’ve died, and you’re my own personal
angel, aren’t you?” I teased.

She smirked and handed me the medicine,
which I accepted and washed down. Ashley took the glass and set it
on the nightstand. With no other immediate ways to attend me, she
hovered and fidgeted, being unintentionally annoying until I got
out of bed.

Standing made me realize I was still wearing
the catalyst for this morning’s attack of insanity. I went to the
closet and pushed open the door, expecting to find broken glass
everywhere. But the hardwood floor was clean. My hands were still
wrapped in strips of Connor’s shirt. I untied the cotton bandages
and admired the damage I’d done to my fists; a few red welts and a
couple of small cuts, nothing that wouldn’t heal.

After exchanging my black nightmare for a
casual knit dress that hugged my curves, I raked a brush through my
tangled hair. Then I confronted the bathroom mirror. Thankfully, my
own face looked back at me. I still looked a mess, but nothing like
the train wreck I’d been earlier. My long, curly hair was frizzy,
but not frighteningly so, and the red puffiness of my eyes had been
greatly reduced by the much needed sleep.

When my head finally stopped pounding,
Ashley and I went downstairs and found Connor in the garage. He had
a cabinet door open and appeared to be going over the food inside.
He looked up at our approach then froze when he met my eyes. I
showed him my teeth and hoped I looked mentally stable and
reassuring.
Yes, I’m fine. This nut hasn’t
completely cracked yet.
Stepping out of his eye-lock
and into the garage to investigate, I found bikes on the rack, a
lawn mower to the left, a canoe hanging up, and …

“
Holy cow, bikes!” I regretted the
volume of my happiness when it caused my head to resume its
rhythmic throbbing.

Connor nodded. “Yeah. We’re gonna bike the
rest of the way.” He sounded different; distracted, cold.

Ashley looked terrified by the idea.

“
What’s wrong Ash?”

“
I haven’t ridden a bike in forever. I
don’t know if I’ll remember how.” She eyed them
dubiously.

“
They say you never forget,” I
reassured her. “Only one way to find out.”

Ashley and I pulled the bikes off the rack
and inspected them. I adjusted her seat and she wheeled it around
the small, unoccupied space of the garage. The verdict was that
she’d manage.

I was tempted to grab the man’s bike and
leave the woman’s to Connor, but since he’d been surprisingly
supportive during my crazy-time, I played nice and adjusted the
woman’s bike seat for my long legs. Connor fiddled with the man’s
bike. Then we stood there in uncomfortable silence, not quite
looking at each other. Connor and I excelled at yelling and
screaming, but civil communication had proven to be beyond our
abilities. The fact that he’d seen me at my weakest left me feeling
exposed and vulnerable.

Will he think I’m a liability now? No,
that’s crazy. He held me and helped me.

He stood up the bike on its kickstand and
opened the grill. I tried to peek inside, but he shut the cover and
thwarted my efforts.

Leaning my bike against the wall, I feinted
to the right then stepped to the left; trying to reach around him
and open the grill, but he grabbed my wrist.

“
Dammit, Liberty. Why can’t you leave
anything alone?” He released my wrist and turned his back to me,
studying the closed grill.

What the—?
I
raised an eyebrow at Ashley. She shrugged and walked toward the
door that led back to the kitchen. I followed, glancing back at
Connor who seemed intent on ignoring us both.

“
What’s with him?” I asked, shutting
the door behind me.

She shrugged. “How should I know?
You’re both crazy.” She smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t mean crazy,
crazy. I mean
—
”

“
No, I get it. And you’re right.” I
held my hand level with my chin, as if measuring. “You must be at
least this crazy before you ride the rollercoaster of
adulthood.”

Ashley giggled then we hunted through
kitchen drawers and cupboards until we found linen placemats,
napkins, and matching dinner plates. We set the table, then filched
two small candles from a decorative display on the wall. Since the
heavy winter curtains fully covered the windows, we felt safe
enough to light the scented wax and add ambiance to our elegant
table setting.

Connor opened the door and the palatable
aroma of spaghetti encompassed him. His eyes lingered on the table.
Ashley and I held our breath, presuming he would object to the
candles, which would in turn lead to a long, exhausting argument.
Instead, he shook his head, moved toward the table, and set the pot
of spaghetti on the hot-pad we’d placed for it.

Ashley and I cast confused glances at each
other as we sat down.

The meal by candlelight seemed
surreal. Like the dream of my grandfather, only the area around us
was visible. We sat at a mahogany table with matching chairs. A
chandelier hung just above the center of the table, refracting
light into hundreds of shapes and colors. The table was centered on
a Tuscan rug that rested over the hardwood floor. It was all so
beautiful
—
so perfect.
Everything felt so … normal.

The candlelight emphasized certain details
about Connor that I unsuccessfully tried to ignore. Like the
extraordinary length of his eyelashes, his perfectly shaped,
masculine lips, and the way shadows danced across his strong jaw
bone when he spoke; undeniably handsome.

And dangerous. Don’t forget dangerous. And
glaring at me! What’s his problem?

After we washed up the dinner dishes, Ashley
grabbed a pot of rainwater and scampered upstairs, deserting me
during our silent war with Connor. I pushed the chairs in around
the table and he put away the place settings. He swept and I wiped
down the counters and table. He searched through the cupboards and
I tried to refrain from pulling my hair out and strangling him with
it. Finally, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I put my hands on my
hips and turned to face him.

“
What the heck is your
problem?”

He chuckled and turned to stare at me.
“
I
don’t have a
problem.”

I glared back. “You know what? Forget it.
Fine. No, not fine. Just when I think you could possibly be a
decent human being, you always have to prove me wrong.”

“
Oh that’s rich.” He leaned against
the wall. “
You’re
the one who
doesn’t want to like
me
,
remember?”