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Chapter 16
Liberty showered after Trent dropped her off. She kept thinking about Trent and everything between them. So many emotions warred within her. How could she be falling for this guy?
She made herself some herbal tea, the kind with chamomile that her grandmother would always make her when she couldn’t sleep. Then she wrapped one of grandmother’s homemade afghans around her shoulders and padded down the hallway toward the room that had always been her favorite in the summer. The room that she had wished her grandmother would get rid of because Will hated it so much.
Carefully, she pushed the door open and walked inside, flipping on the light. She inhaled sharply, noting that all the easels were covered with white sheets. The sight sparked unrest in her, but curiosity as well.
She knew what painting would be beneath the sheet of the first easel. Of course she did. She grabbed the sheet and yanked it off, revealing a painting of her grandmother. Liberty had painted it the summer she was fifteen. Her grandmother had always displayed it in the hallway, until Liberty had asked her not to.
Carefully, she traced the lines of her grandmother’s face. She missed her so much. She sucked in a deep breath, wishing so many things in her life had been different. The other four easels were still covered. If only she had the courage or strength to uncover them, but not tonight.
Pushing past them, she moved to the painting supplies that were still in the same basket she’d always kept them in. She grabbed the basket and an easel and carried them out of the room, taking care to turn off the light and shut the door.
Her heart thrummed as she moved down the hallway to the kitchen. She went to work setting up the easel, putting the matte in place. She used bowls from the cupboard and filled them with water and cleaner and everything she’d need. She thought of the picture of Tren’ts family. She held the brush above the colors she’d put out. Her hand shook. Ever since Trent had shown her the picture earlier and she’d told him to take it, her hand had itched for a brush. She’d itched to bring life to the faces in the photograph.
As she outlined the Stone siblings and parents, so many memories rushed back to her. She thought of Trent and Hunter and their antics. She thought of all the Stone brothers who had seemed like Greek gods to her back then. She thought of Kensi and how she’d been enamored by her. Kensi had always seemed so cool. With a laugh, Liberty thought about her and Cheryse and everything they’d done to get Trent and Hunter’s attention.
Well, for her, it had just been Trent. She’d been so jealous when Cheryse had dated him. Those feelings from years ago bubbled back to life.
Trent. She wanted to paint the first image she’d seen the other day of him, the one in the field with the headdress on. The one where he was chanting shirtless with such determination in his eyes. She found herself getting lost in the painting, lost in the memories.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been painting when she stepped back, admiring her work. The Stone Family. Yes, it was good.
A loud crash echoed through the house. “Hurry!” someone called out as the back door slammed open. Down the hall, she saw three people barrel outside.
She wanted to call out and demand that they stop, but fear paralyzed her. The memory of the crash, of her child crying, of the way the shattered glass felt on her face as the jaws of life broke into her car … No, no, no!
Finally, she unfroze and dropped the paintbrush, pulling out her phone. She dialed nine-one-one.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“There was just a break-in at my house.” She gave the operator more details.
“We are dispatching someone to your location now. Do you need me to stay on the line?”
Liberty walked outside. No one was there, but that didn’t give her any relief. “I … I’m okay.” She pressed end on the call and felt herself shaking.
On impulse, she called Trent. Would he even be awake? It was almost midnight.
“Lib?” His voice was thick with sleep.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Her knees threatened to buckle, and she sat down on the ground.
Something shuffled on the other end; she could imagine him sitting up straight. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone broke in. The police are coming. I don’t know why I called. I’m just …” Her unsteady fingers nearly dropped the phone. Distantly, she thought she could hear her baby crying.
“I’ll be there in five.”
