Page 39 of Longing for Liberty

THIRTY

STATE NEWS: NEW LAW GIVES FINE AND STOCKADE TIME TO CITIZENS WHO FEED ANIMALS!

I took two days off and returned on the third, feeling like a shell of myself. Fitzhugh greeted me at the door, took one look at me, and said in a mildly scolding voice, “Liberty. You shouldn’t be working yet.” He reached out and put a hand on my forehead, saying with shock, “You’re still warm.”

“I’m okay,” I tried to reassure him, but he was right. It was a low-grade fever now, but it was still there, making me feel weak and fuzzy-minded. “I might not be able to do everything today, but I can at least?—”

“Go climb in my bed.”

My eyes flashed up to his. He touched my cheek, which I was sure was rosy. “Not for that ,” he assured me. Then he nodded toward the hallway. “Go on. Take off your uniform and get comfortable.”

I hesitated a moment and then did as I was told.

In his room, I undressed and folded my uniform neatly before placing my pile of clothes on top of his dresser.

I kept my underwear and bra on as I climbed into the huge bed.

It felt strange to lift the sheet and duvet and climb beneath.

His bed was like a well-structured cloud compared to ours.

Two seconds later, Amos walked in with the covered breakfast plate.

“Oh, no,” I said, reaching for it. “I could have gotten that.”

“I’m capable.” He set it on the bedside table instead of handing it to me. “Are you taking your…whatever the doctor ordered?”

I eyed him. “Herbal supplements. Yes.”

“Yes,” he said, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. “Good.”

The anger for the societal injustice was there, simmering under the surface, but I was too tired to let it rise, and that was a good thing.

“This feels weird,” I admitted. “I really can work. I just need to take breaks.”

“One more day of rest,” he ordered me. “Eat your breakfast, stay hydrated, and sleep when you can. I’ll be working.”

I chewed my bottom lip and nodded. Amos kissed my forehead and left, closing the door behind him.

I couldn’t reconcile how a powerful man like him could be so kind and giving to one person but not to others.

He had to know everything that was happening in the community.

I wasn’t na?ve enough to think he didn’t, although I forced myself not to look too closely at his role in everything.

My sanity was threadbare as it was, constantly cycling through daily raw emotions of guilt, rage, and disgust.

With a deep sigh, I reached for the plate of food and pulled it to my lap, lifting the lid.

I had a flash of being in a fancy hotel, eating room service before the fall of America.

Jeremy and I hadn’t had the money for a big honeymoon.

We’d decided on a quick two-night trip to New York City to see Hamilton on Broadway, and then another two nights at Niagara Falls.

But the hotel in Manhattan had felt so bougie with its thick bathroom robes and room service.

We stayed in that room for over twenty-four hours, just enjoying every little thing about one another.

I’d never felt so secure and whole with another person.

Forcing those memories away, I slowly ate my breakfast and drank all of my water. As strange as it was to be in Amos’s bed, my body didn’t care where I was, so I succumbed to my heated blood, lying down and closing my eyes.

When I woke, I felt the heaviness of having slept for hours.

Once again, I was sweating. I heard the cadence of voices coming from the sitting room, sounding like Amos was on a video call.

I slowly climbed out of bed, lifting my wet hair off my neck as I walked to the door.

It opened silently. All I could see was the hallway and the opening to the living room, but I could make out the voices. I honed my ears to listen harder.

“…the trucks?” Amos was saying. “Just how many bodies are we talking about?”

“I don’t know,” said Walinger’s scratchy voice. “Twenty-something. Twenty-nine.”

“Twenty-nine?” Amos nearly shouted. “And you don’t think we should step in? Give them some magical herbal pills and the pink liquid for the kids?”

“This is God’s will, Fitzy.”

“This is my future State Force, Wally ,” Amos shot back.

“All right, that’s enough.” Roan sounded like a bored frat boy. “You’re worse than a couple of nagging women. Listen. We’re going to let this one run its course, and I’ll find a way to spin it. But if it shows up in another neighborhood, we’ll nip it quickly. Deal?”

Amos let out an annoyed breath and Walinger said, “Deal.”

Roan added, “Do we even know what it is?”

“I’m told it’s Pneumonic Plague,” Walinger said, sending a chill through me.

“Plague?” Roan asked in an amused voice. “Like an actual plague? Damn, maybe they did do something to piss off God.” He laughed, making Walinger chuckle, and I quickly closed the door, holding the edge with both hands to keep it silent despite my shaking hands.

I ran back to the bed, my mind spinning as I jumped into the wet spot, now cold, yanking the covers over my body and lying down with my back to the door while I thought.

Get control of yourself.

Breathe. Breathe slower.

You’re okay.

I desperately needed to disassociate, to feel nothing, but their conversation…

holy shit. What had Amos said? About giving them herbal supplements and something pink for the kids?

Could that be the chalky liquid penicillin?

These assholes really did have access to life-saving medications!

And they knew damn well germs were real. It was beyond cruel! I felt nauseous.

Calm down.

Calm down.

Calm down.

Did Amos really only want to save them because they were his future army?

Or was that an excuse because he didn’t want to admit he cared about people dying?

What did it matter, one way or the other, if he wasn’t going to fight it?

He let himself be outnumbered, and it could kill off that whole neighborhood of hundreds! Twenty-nine dead already.

I don’t know how long I stayed there like that before I heard his footsteps coming down the hall again, and panic crept over me, making me flush with scalding heat. I gasped when the door opened, and seconds later felt Amos’s warm hand rub up and down my arm.

“Liberty?”

I slowly rolled, trying to look sleepy. Amos appeared at ease as he propped himself up on the side of the bed.

“I have to go to a meeting.”

“What time is it?” I started to sit up, but he stopped me with a hand.

“It’s almost three.”

“Three! I slept that long?”

“You clearly needed it.”

I glanced over to see that the plate of food was gone. Amos took my hand and brought my fingers up to his lips as he looked at me.

“Feel free to shower,” he told me. “And I had a toothbrush sent up for you. My meeting is a dinner meeting, so no need to cook tonight.”

I actually knew that from Kathy when I’d gone to get the basket that morning, but I nodded.

“Thank you for this…for today. Have a good meeting.”

He gave a single nod and leaned forward, kissing my forehead before leaving.

Many times since Roan took office, I had felt like we were living in the Twilight Zone, like things were upside down and making no sense and completely out of control. But this moment—having him be so sweet and nurturing after what I’d heard him say—really messed me up.

One thing was becoming clear about our situation. Amos Fitzhugh wanted to play house with me. Take care of me. Have me be his sweet and obedient wifey. He clearly wanted me to feel comfortable with him. But I knew what true security felt like, and this wasn’t it…for me, at least. For Amos, though?

Was he truly comfortable with me? Developing real feelings for me?

How far could I take this? What would he be willing to give and to do for a woman he loved?

A thrill of danger dashed through me, leaving me breathless.

So many wrongs had been done to get us where we were, and so many of us had played by the rules. Played nice. Played right into their hands. Played ourselves out of our freedoms.

No more. If you try to fight clean against the dirty, the filth will get on you and weigh you down. The only way to win against scum when the playing field was so low was to play just as dirty.

Or dirtier.