Read Liberty Begins (The Liberty Series) for Free Online Page A

do with it.”
    Please tell me this is not happening. Please tell me this is not happening. John, the hottest man I have ever met, a real-life Han Solo in a crazy expensive, immaculate suit, cannot be sitting inches away from me when I have greasy fingers, a greasy face and deep-fried chicken tender breath.
    “Hi,” I mumble, trying to keep food from falling out of my mouth. I can feel the itchy blush instantly erupt again. Fantastic.
    “I’m glad to see you,” he says, and he’s smiling so widely and genuinely his nose crinkles.
    “Really?” I ask, turning my hot face down towards the table. I didn’t understand. I was pretty, and I was young, but there was a lot of pretty and young — and desperate — in Vegas. John was good-looking enough and appeared wealthy enough to help himself to any of it. Vegas was not where you went to meet a nice girl to bring home to New England. It was where you went to get your party on.
    He sighed at me and laughed. “Yes Liberty, really. ” He leaned his head down towards the table so he was gazing at me at eye level. I realized how ridiculous we must look, all hunched over, and I sat up. The last thing I wanted to be right now was ridiculous, and I was failing miserably.
    John sat up too and looked at me levelly. It made me start to feel hot again. Like I had a fever. Maybe I did and this was a hallucination. He was like a gorgeous mirage springing out of the heat. He smiled again. “You seem embarrassed, but there are far worse things than being a stripper who enjoys fried food,” he said. “Though I expect you already know that.”
    I felt my hot skin start to itch. I felt woozy. No one ever talked to me like this, like I was a real person with a history, thoughts and feelings. I never let my guard down long enough to give anyone a chance. I hadn’t let my guard down now, but John wasn’t waiting for me to feel comfortable. He wasn’t leaving it to chance. On top of all of this, he was so close, so handsome, clean and gleaming. It all made my head hurt.
    He patted my hand. I desperately hoped it was clean. “Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?” he asked.
    I looked at him blankly. My first thought was, Where on earth was this coming from? Why would he ask me something so random? My second thought went towards his question. Did everything happen for a reason? I didn’t think so. A lot of what I had seen in life was the inexplicableness of people’s unfortunate choices and plain old bad luck. I remember being a little girl and calling 911 because my mother had convulsions after a binge and passed out. I remember what Ray did. I didn’t want to think about these things in front of John, or anyone, but his words brought them back and they hit me with the full force of a blow. If this were all for a reason, surely I was being singled out. I was being punished.
    “Of course you don’t,” he said, taking in my expression. “You’re too young. I didn’t believe it either when I was your age. Once you get older, you can see how things play out. Then you can understand why they happened, what their purpose is.”
    He leaned across the table and spoke to me in a low tone: “You need to know: I’m here for a reason. You’re going to have to trust me. You’re going to have to play it out.”
    He sat back and watched me.
    “ Huh ?” I asked, dumbfounded.
    He chuckled, unruffled by my stupefied expression. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the few stray fries I had left on my plate.
    Sure John, have a fry. I pushed the plate towards his and wiped my hands off on my napkin. Seeing him there, eating my French fry in another impeccable suit, looking impossibly clean and gorgeous, and saying all this crazy stuff, I just couldn’t fathom him. I look over towards the bar and there is the group of young suited men who came with him yesterday. They’re standing casually together, studiously not looking at us.
    Handsome though he was, and clean and friendly,