Liberty At Last (The Liberty Series) (45 page)

We went through the doors to the locker room and the normal chatter stopped. “Hey, no men in here!” one of the girls yelled, and then, after she looked at John for a second, she seemed to change her mind: “We’ll make an exception for
you
, baby!” she called. Some of the other girls hooted and hollered.

“Yeah, we’d love you to stay!” one of the other girls said and came up to him, seductively. I didn’t know her, and she wasn’t wearing anything besides a thong and a boa.

“Now girls — ” John said, playfully, but then I stepped in front of him.

“Behave!” I said, and I saw several mouths drop open at the sight of me. There were maybe fifteen girls in there, some of whom I’d never seen before. But there was Tracey, Adriana, Keisha and Nina, all staring at me with their mouths hanging open.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tracey said.
“Liberty?”
She hustled over to me, wearing what appeared to be a gold monokini with nipple cutouts, and embraced me roughly. “Girl, we thought you were dead somewhere! Or shackled up as a love slave,” she said, peering past me to look at John. “Not that
that
would be the worst thing that could happen to you!” The rest of the girls came up and hugged me, alternately telling me that I looked too skinny and that John was wicked hot.

“So what’re you doing here?” Nina asked. “You missed us? Tired of your hot man?” She winked at John and he smiled back at her, warmly, until he saw the frosty look on my face. Nina was gorgeous, and she was only wearing a filmy
peignoir
and a brooch necklace. He stopped looking at her and smiled at the wall, instead.

“We’re here on assignment,” I said. “John runs a security company. He’s doing some work for a client down here.” I felt guilty for not telling them the client was Cruz, but I didn’t want to jeopardize things. Besides, that guilt paled in comparison to how bad I felt about keeping the real truth from them all: that there could be a bomb threat shortly, or a shootout, or some combination thereof.

“We’re here tonight because there could be trouble,” John said, speaking more openly than I thought he would, still looking at the wall. “I want you all to know that we have guys outside and guys inside. But if you hear anything, or anything gets weird, get back in here and lock the door. Then barricade it.”

They were talking to each other in worried tones. I tried to get their attention. “I promise, you guys — John and his men are the best. They know what they’re doing. He knows I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I said, and my voice hitched a little.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to any of you. I promise,” John said. “And I’m not going to look at you, either,” he said, still appraising the wall. They all laughed.

A man with reddish-brown skin and collar-length, shiny black hair poked his head in the door. “John,” he said. “Ladies,” he added, nodding at them.

Cruz at last
, I thought. John turned to me. “I’m going to talk to him. Stay here,” he said, squeezing my hand.

As soon as the door was closed, the girls went crazy with me, looking for all sorts of information.
Please tell me you finally had sex — that man is gorgeous!
they said.
Where are you living? Is he rich? What kind of car does he have? Where are you staying?

When I told them about the suite at the
Byzantine
, they went wild.
Do you love him? Are you working for him? Are you ever coming back here?

“Yes, I love him. And I’m working for him right now. I don’t know what I’m going to do about that in the future. But I’m not coming back to Vegas,” I said. I didn’t tell them about the engagement, his mansion on the ocean, his infinity pool or anything else. It felt too showy just to tell them about the hotel. Money wasn’t something I’d ever been comfortable discussing, and that was especially true now, when it wasn’t even mine.

“Liberty,” said Adriana, flicking her fake ponytail around, “you haven’t told us the most important thing. Did you give it up to him?”

I stood there for a minute, blushing from my head to my toes.

“Did you
see
him?” I finally squealed. “He’s
smokin’
hot! Of course I slept with him! What are you, crazy?”

They all laughed, hooted and hollered. “Finally!” Tracey cried. “Christ! The only virgin stripper to ever live in Vegas.”

I nodded in agreement. “Strippers can’t be virgins,” I said, still blushing. “It’s just wrong.”

“So happy for you,” Tracey said as she hugged me. She pulled back and wiped underneath her eyes so her mascara didn’t run. “You were always too nice to be back here with the rest of us sluts.”

“You are
not
a slut,” I said, taking her hands. “Keisha is, but you’re totally not!”

We laughed again and Keisha came up and fake-smacked me. “Thank god you finally got some and loosened up a little,” she said and hugged me. “I used to worry about you too much.”

“I’m good,” I said. “I’m happy. And it’s good to see you all.”
I hope we can keep you safe
, I thought, and my stomach lurched. I’d never hung out with these girls when I worked here, but I still cared about them. The ones that I’d known had been kind to me, even if it was just the kindness to understand that I needed space. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to them.

John knocked on the door. “Liberty, I need you,” he called.

“I wish he needed me,” Tracey said, and they all erupted in laughter again.

“I’ll see you guys out there,” I called. I didn’t know if this was goodbye or not. I had no idea what was going to happen. John whisked me back out into the back lot, where Matthew and Corey were waiting.

“Well, if it isn’t our own little Yoko Ono, also known as Liberty Davis,” Matthew said, sarcastically.

“What’s your problem?” I asked, hurt. “I thought I was your BFF because of the fancy hotel. What’d I do now?”

“It’s not what you did, it’s what you’re getting John to do,” he said. I looked at him blankly and he shook his head. “Having Darius and Cruz sit down for a
chat
?” he asked. He sounded mystified. “In what world is that a good idea?”

I stuck my chin out at him and defensively crossed my arms across my chest. “It’s better than them killing each other, and then trying to get them to talk afterwards, isn’t it?”

Matthew looked at me like I was completely ridiculous. “If that’s your best argument,” he trailed off and looked at John, who was pacing and looking at his phone.

“John said they haven’t talked in years,” I said. “Why shouldn’t we try? They’re family — all families fight. All families hate each other. Maybe they just need to look each other in the eyes for once. Instead of just shooting from a distance. At least if they talk, they can clear the air before they kill each other. Or before Cruz has you kill his brother, and a bunch of other people get shot at, too.”

“Are we branching off into mediation, John?” Matthew asked him. John looked up from his phone and gave him a leveling look.

“Maybe,” he said. “It depends on whether Liberty wants to.” He went back to pacing. Then, as if remembering something, he looked back up. “Don’t ever call her Yoko again, or I’ll crack your face open with something metal,” he said, without a trace of humor.

“Awesome,” Matthew said quietly. He turned back to me. “I understand what you’re saying, but I think it’s just prolonging the inevitable. We’ve been chasing this guy
forever
. He’s slippery. And I told you, he’s bad, bad news. I don’t want to lose him again — I want to get rid of him.”

I sighed and looked up at him. I didn’t want John to break Matthew’s face, but he
did
make me mad sometimes. “I’m sure you’ll get to shoot something this weekend,” I said. “I don’t want to ruin all your fun.”

But then all of their phones must have vibrated, because they simultaneously whipped them out and read messages. “Let’s go,” Matthew said. “Corey, you cover back here.”

I followed him and John back into the building. This time we went into the bar area. The music was loud, throbbing, as one of the girls I didn’t know danced onstage. Some of the other girls, including Tracey and Adriana, worked the crowd. There were probably seventy guys in the bar tonight, not that crowded, but still too many people to worry about.

I searched the faces in the crowd, but I didn’t see Darius. “Is he here?” I asked John.

“Not yet,” he said. “But Jake said someone was just at Cruz’s house, doing surveillance. So I’m guessing it’s just a matter of time.”

He nodded at the bartender, Chelsea, who I recognized. “Hey,” she said, nodding back. “I already heard: I never saw you.” Without further ceremony, she turned back to washing her pint glasses.

“We’re going to hide back here. Hopefully, he doesn’t know we’re here yet,” John said, motioning to a closet off behind the bar. “But listen to me,” he said, holding my chin up so my eyes met his. “I want to honor your request. I’m not happy about it, and Cruz wasn’t happy about it, but he’s agreed to meet with Darius. As long as one of us is in the room and he’s cuffed. But if he comes in and starts shooting,
I am going to take him out
,” he said, holding my eyes steadily with his clear blue ones. “I won’t be shooting for his knees, either. I need you to understand that. To accept it.”

I nodded at him mutely. This was a big step for the both of us. I was accepting his line in the sand; he was acknowledging mine, and trying to honor it.

He took one last look around, as if cataloging everything, and then ushered me and Matthew into the supply closet. It was small and the wait seemed inexorably long. None of us said a word. I kept looking at Matthew’s phone over his shoulder, trying to see how much time had passed. Five minutes, ten minutes, twenty. It was getting stuffy. My blood was crashing through my veins, roaring through my ears because of the adrenaline. It reminded me of the last time I was in Vegas, when I’d first met Darius. It was the first time I’d seen John in action, and he’d asked Matthew to hold me down.

“Do you remember the night we were here last? And I ran away from you?” I asked Matthew quietly. I started laughing hysterically, silently. His put-out expression only made me laugh harder. I leaned over and clutched my stomach, remembering the surprised expression on his face when I’d wriggled away from him to try to get to John.

“Ha ha,” he whispered, watching me with a worried expression on his face. “John, I think she’s about to pop.”

John looked at me too, and I looked up at him and tried to stop the giggles. “Nah, she’ll be alright,” he said. “Calm down, babe,” he said. “We’re almost there.” He looked down at his phone then. “Kevin followed them…to here,” John said, looking up at Matthew.

“You ready?” John asked, and Matthew answered by way of a jaw clench.

I finally stopped laughing, then.

“Babe?” John asked.

I nodded at him. I was as ready as I’d ever be. We all took our guns out; I noticed, as per usual when I held my gun, that my hands were sweating. I double-checked to make sure the safety was on.

John and Matthew both looked down at their phones again — they must’ve buzzed. “Shit,” they said in unison. I looked over Matthew’s shoulder and read a text from Jake:
“D coming in armed”

“Shit,” I said.

John opened the door a crack. Jake was still out in the crowd. John texted him quickly, waiting for a response. Cruz was locked in his office with two of the other guys standing guard.

We waited, holding our breath, trying to listen past the thumping music.

But we didn’t need to strain our ears for long. We heard Darius before we saw him — we heard firing. Lots and lots of firing.

Lots and lots of screaming.

John didn’t look back as he sprang out of the closet towards the noise, Matthew following closely behind. I knew my orders: stay crouched down behind the bar and make sure no one got in or out of the back door to the alley. The most important part of my orders, John had stressed, was
TO STAY DOWN.

The music went off. I hoped the DJ had run away. I heard more shots, and more people screaming — they sounded like they were screams from fear, thank god, not pain — and I found Chelsea the bartender sitting calmly on the floor behind the bar. She was drinking a martini. “I was just about to serve this,” she said, and shrugged. Maybe she wasn’t so calm. Maybe she was in shock. “You want some?” I smiled and shook my head at her,
no
. My body was shaking so hard I would have spilled it everywhere.

“Are the lights back here?” I whispered. She nodded up to the wall, next to the long mirror. I crawled over, reached up and flicked several switches, illuminating the room with the lights they used when the club was closed and it was being cleaned. I squinted at the brightness as my eyes adjusted to it; all of this took seconds, but it felt like forever. A few more people screamed and against John’s orders I peered up over the bar, searching for him.

Darius was standing with a large rifle pointed at Alex. Most of the patrons were on the floor, some were scuttling towards the exit…I saw Jake on the ground, no gun in sight…and I couldn’t see Matthew. Or John. Anywhere. I also couldn’t tell if any of the girls were out there…maybe they’d all made it out back.

I could only hope.

“Bring him out here,” Darius was yelling at Alex, who was just looking at him, terrified.
“BRING HIM OUT HERE!”
He fired a shot at Alex and I watched him scream and sway back; red blood bloomed on the shoulder of his white shirt. He turned, staggering, and swayed drunkenly out of the room, presumably back towards the office to get Cruz.

“Now, who’ve we got here?” Darius asked, kicking the people on the floor, making them turn over so he could see them, shoving his gun in their faces. “You’ll do,” he said, pulling a woman up off the floor. She didn’t struggle. I recognized her immediately: Amber, one of the sometimes girls. The one with the dead eyes, dyed-red hair and a smattering of pockmarks, who always looked pissed to be anywhere. I guess she’d had the misfortune of being called in tonight. I wondered what she was thinking while Darius held onto her roughly, and shoved his gun into her ribcage. I was glad I couldn’t see the look in her eyes from here.
Poor girl.