Freedom's Price Read Online Free PDF Page B

men and boys if I didn’t come forward.”
    He tried to make his voice more matter-of-fact, tried to feel as detached as he sounded, tried to report only the facts. But the facts were brutal and his voice cracked. “So I turned myself in, but Vásquez burned the village and killed the men and boys anyway. Marisala’s father and brother were among the murdered.”
    Lauren drew in a breath, and Liam tried to fight the memories. He’d been there. He’d watched as that monster had given the order to gun down those innocent people. Marisala had been there too. He couldn’t help but remember the sheer horror in her eyes. He couldn’t erase the image of her fighting to free herself from the other women who held her, fighting to run to her father and brother, even though they were already dead, even though she herself would then be in range of those deadly machine guns.
    “That’s when Marisala joined the guerrilla forces. I went to prison,” he stated, “and Marisala took up her father’s gun and went to war.”
    It was amazing. With a few sentences, Liam could simplify and describe eighteen months of sheer hell.
    “Since Marisala was Santiago’s niece, it didn’t take her long to win the respect and following she needed to become a leader in the rebel movement. By the time she was seventeen, she was making command decisions and leading from the front lines.”
    “Isn’t that unusual?” Lauren asked, uncrossing and recrossing her legs with another whisper of silk. “Aren’t women considered second-class citizens in that country?”
    Liam nodded. “Yeah. It was unusual.
She’s
unusual.”
    “That’s obvious.”
    “Eventually, the rebel army attacked the prison where I was being held, and I was freed. Sort of. Everyone and their brother, including Tomás Vásquez himself, was after me. And after all those months in prison, I wasn’t in real good shape.”
    Another massive understatement.
    “That was when my brother and his wife came to the island,” Liam continued. “And with their help, Marisala got me to safety.”
    Lauren took a delicate sip from her glass of water. “So now this Marisala is in Boston.”
    “She’s a freshman at the university, but someone screwed up, and she doesn’t have a dorm room.”
    “So she’s staying with you.”
    “Only for a few nights.” Please God, let them find a safe, clean apartment first thing in the morning.
    “Lee, I hate to suddenly turn editor on you, but do you think Marisala would consent to an interview for the paper? This story is incredible and—”
    “No.” He glared at her. “Absolutely not. No way. Santiago made me her guardian, and
I
won’t consent. She doesn’t need to be reminded of that hell all over again. And God knows she doesn’t need the notoriety. Santiago wants her to have a normal, quiet,
civilized
life now.”
    Lauren took another sip of her sparkling water, gazing at him over the top of the glass. “Maybe so. But what does
Marisala
want?”
             
    Marisala wanted to go into Liam’s room.
    She’d been standing in the doorway for several long minutes, trying to decide whether Liam’s casual “make yourself at home” included exploring his bedchamber.
    Across the room, his bed was an unmade jumble of brightly patterned sheets and pillows. It was bigger than a normal double bed, perfect for two lovers to sleep comfortably—stretched out yet still touching, replete after making deliciously passionate, pulse-pounding love.
    Against the other wall was a dresser, its wood stain a deep, rich brown. And several exercise machines were set up and ready for use in front of the windows.
    The curtains were still closed, keeping all but a single red-orange ray from the setting sun out of the room.
    Make yourself at home.
    Marisala knew quite well that Liam hadn’t meant for her to go into his bedroom and lie down on his bed, but she didn’t care. She did it anyway. His sheets smelled like him and she lay back against his