Page 91 of Longing for Liberty

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“I read the threesome in book two.”

An accidental, tiny sound of surprise and fear squeaked out of me, making Roan chuckle.

“I imagined it was me in front—” He pressed his crotch to mine and then slowly made his way around my body, keeping contact until he was behind me, pushing his bulge into my soft bottom and breathing the words against my neck. “And Fitzy in the back. He would refuse, of course, but I could command it.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t be coy. You wrote it.”

I also wrote about murder. Now that, I definitely wanted.

A chime sounded in the room, and Roan moved away from me, picking up his phone on the reading table. I glanced at the closed door, willing it to open. Roan’s face split into a huge grin as he typed something and slid the phone into his back pocket, then looked at me.

“I need you to retrieve something for me. A gift I got for ole Wally.” His eyes glinted. “It’s waiting in the lobby, but we need to keep this gift discreet. You can do that, can’t you?”

He raised an eyebrow, and although I had no idea what he was talking about, I nodded, my danger radar pinging like crazy.

“Our Wally has certain…tastes.”

Certain…oh, God.

My face must have changed because Roan wagged a finger. “Now, now, what is it you secular people always used to say?Don’t judge.” He said it in a sing-song voice, and then laughed, pulling a keycard from his other back pocket. “Go to the lobby, retrieve his little gift, and take it to his apartment for him to enjoy after the party.” He held out the keycard, and I stared, aghast. “Go on,” he urged.

I took it with a shaking hand, and he pointed to the door. My feet were leaden as I trudged out of the library, blasted with “Let’s Hear it for the Boys.” My eyes frantically went to the office door to find it still closed, not that Amos would have the balls to save me from this task. I made my way like a zombie past the eagle statue where Walinger stood laughing like a hyena as a young man screamed, “Woo!” and tore off his blazer. I made it past the dancing bodies. I pressed the button for the elevator, and it slid open. Before I stepped on, I glanced toward the hallway and saw Roan standing with his hands in his pockets again, watching me with no amusement, and I realized.

This was a test.

On the elevator, as the door closed, I leaned back and slapped a hand over my mouth, closing my eyes and trying not to get sick.

Certain tastes.

Little gift.

Please, no.

I couldn’t do this. I knew with absolute clarity that I could not do this. My brain buzzed frantically. This task changed everything, because if there was a child in the lobby, there was no way I could bring it to Walinger’s apartment. That meant I wasn’t going to get to kill the Three, but if I did what needed to be done right now, I would still end up dead. A feeling of deep disappointment seeped into me like something rancid.

The elevator dinged, and I gasped. I wasn’t ready. What was I going to do?

Even heavier than before, my feet had to be dragged into the lobby where two people stood. I stopped and stared at them. A State Force officer, and…

Holy shit.

“What’s wrong, baby?” the man asked in a southern drawl. “You never seen a Black queen?” He turned to the guard. “You didn’t tell me it was 80s night.”

“Stop talking.” The State forceman shoved him forward.

“I’ve got him,” I said, rushing to take his elbow so the forceman wouldn’t hurt him.

The man wore a crisp, fitted black suit. His hair was perfectly cropped and shiny. Skin flawless. Lips red with lipstick.

The trooper glared at him, and the man gave him a little wave. “Thanks for the escort, handsome.”

When the forceman moved like he was going to hit him, I threw a hand up. “Stop! He’s the V.P.’s…gift.” Gross. This did stop him, but his eyes were murderous. The suited man seemed unfazed, just batted his long eyelashes.

There was no time for me to register any of this. I turned us and motioned toward the elevators, glancing back to make sure the military man wasn’t following. He wasn’t. He just stood there with his lips lifted in a snarl. We boarded the elevator, and I stood there breathing hard, staring at the floor button panel. A sob came up from the depths of my soul, and I covered my mouth as I looked at him, feeling shock all over again.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I thought you were going to be…a child.”