Liberty Begins (The Liberty Series) by Leigh James Page A

manners.
     
    We were getting closer to Darius’s aisle. I looked straight down at the floor. I didn’t care if he glared; he couldn’t do anything to me, but I still found him unpleasant. I looked up out of the corner of my eye and there he was again, shooting me a filthy look, trying to say something through his taped-over mouth to me. “Shut up!” said the guard next to him. He pushed him back roughly into his seat.
     
    But that wasn’t good enough for John.
     
    Before I knew what was happening, he leaned over the row of seats. He slammed Darius in the nose with his fist. Blood spurted everywhere. I yelped and I could hear Darius’s muffled howl.
     
    John grabbed the prisoner’s chin, ignoring the blood, and looked him in the eye.
     
    “Don’t you EVER look at her like that again,” he said, and his voice was fierce, scary. “Or you’re going to have some other body parts bleeding. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” I could see Darius’s jaw clench through the blood smeared on his face, but he nodded.
     
    “Clean him up,” John directed. “Liberty, go ahead.” He nodded towards the bathroom.
     
    I went in and gratefully locked the door. Holy hell , I thought. Now he really seemed like a bounty hunter. I was shaking; adrenaline coursed through me. Am I scared or excited? I wondered. John was a little scary, but I’d never had somebody stick up like that for me before. Both, my inner voice offered. You’re both. Plus, John was pretty hot when he was mad. It must be some sort of testosterone thing, I thought.
     
    I was starting to worry myself.
     
    I took a deep breath and steadied myself for a moment. Then I unlocked the door and stuck my head out. John was standing there, drying his hands off with a towel.
     
    “John?” I asked. He looked at me expectantly. He was completely unruffled, unfazed by the blood on his hands. Clearly, this was just another day at the office for him. “Can we please have some wine with dinner?”
     
    He smiled. “Of course. Might help take the edge off,” he said, and shrugged.
     
    “That would be great. Thanks,” I said, and happily locked the door again. Now I was almost all grown up, I thought. I not only knew what it felt like to really kiss someone, when you really wanted to, but I knew what it felt like to need a drink. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
     
    John had left a pile of clothes for me on the vanity. There was a pair of new black Converse high-tops on the floor, size eight. How did he know? I wondered, checking the labels on the rest of the clothes. The tee shirt, which was gray and fabulously soft, was a medium. The jeans, which were a dark wash and looked expensive, were a size 28. This baffled me, but they looked like they would fit. The bra, which I noticed was black and lacy, was a 34C, and it had matching, very sexy, underwear in a size four.
     
    Honestly, I didn’t want to know.
     
    I used the organic body wipes again, but what I really needed was a shower. I eyed it, but I couldn’t bring myself to jump in. Too many people on the bus. I would feel weirdly exposed, because they would know that I was naked in here. I couldn’t have that. So I just brushed my teeth, put on my beautiful new clothes that all fit perfectly, and shook my hair out. I looked at my makeup-free face in the mirror. I hoped I would be good enough for John without my mask.
     
    My stomach rumbled again and I hastily stuffed my dirty clothes into a plastic bag I found in the console cabinet. I opened the door and he was still standing there, waiting, smiling at me.
     
    “Hello, beautiful,” he said. My heart clenched. “Come this way.” He gestured towards the back of the bus.
     
    It was a minuscule but immaculate galley kitchen, with granite and ceramic tile that matched the bathroom. There was a couch along the opposite wall from the sink and the refrigerator, and on a low table in front of it were several pizzas, a salad, a bottle of wine and two place