Chasing liberty, p.1
Chasing Liberty, page 1
Liberty “Libby” Chase’s name an explosion of patriotism from her military father and her yuppie, free-loving mother. Her name emerged from a drug-induced haze her parents floated through the night she was conceived. Life threw her a curve ball when she was born with fiery red hair and a too-tall gene, striking an intimidating figure. It’s perfect, however, for her personality and for her line of work: a hard-nosed cop with a wicked sense of humor.
Morgan Pierce is a corporate lawyer who has mapped out the path her life will take. So far, it’s working out as planned, and she is on track to make partner in her firm. That all-but-certain end is called into question when an unexpected revelation rocks her world off its axis. Perhaps it was inevitable, but now she must come to terms with a lifestyle change that will upend everything—and everyone—in her world.
When a fatal car crash with suspicious origins makes it clear that Morgan’s life is in danger, these two women from different worlds must work together to figure out who wants Morgan dead…and why.
Isabella
SAPPHIRE BOOKS PUBLISHING
SALINAS, CA.
Chasing Liberty
Copyright © 2023 by Isabella All rights reserved.
ISBN EPUB – 978-1-952270-92-5
This is a work of fiction - names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without written permission of the publisher.
Editor – Heather Flournoy
Book Design - LJ Reynolds
Cover Design - Fineline Cover Design
Sapphire Books Publishing, LLC
P.O. Box 8142
Salinas, CA 93912
www.sapphirebooks.com
Produced in the United States of America
First Edition – January 2023
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This and other Sapphire Books titles can be found at
www.sapphirebooks.com
Isabella’s other books
Faithful Series
Always Faithful
Forever Faithful
Faithful Valor
American Yakuza Series
American Yakuza I
The Lies that Bind -American Yakuza II
Razor's Edge - American Yakuza III
Blood Honor: American Yakuza IV
American Yakuza - The Collection
Executive Series
Executive Disclosure
Surviving Reagan
Scarlet Series
Scarlet Masquerade
Scarlet Assassin
Stand Alone
Broken Shield
Dusty Road Home
Chasing Liberty
Cigar Barons: Blood isn't thicker than water, it's war.
The Gate
Twisted Deception: Love can be dangerous.
Short Stories
The Last Train
The Tinderella Chronicles: Big Sur Edition
Anthologies
Fandom to Fantasy: Volume 1
Fandom to Fantasy: Volume 2
To the love of my life.
May we always find the joy and laughter in everything we do.
To my grandson. I don’t know you yet, but I love you beyond measure.
To my editor, Heather Flournoy. You are so much more than my editor, you’re a great friend.
To the team at Sapphire, Lori and Janice you gals rock!
To the readers who keep reading my stories. Thank you just doesn’t seem enough.
Morgan Pierce tapped the steering wheel of the Mustang. After everything that happened yesterday, Morgan knew what she needed to do. Her relationship with David had served its purpose. More importantly, it was taking more than it was giving and it was starting to go down a dangerous path that wasn’t what she’d planned for her life.
Yesterday wasn’t just a wake-up call, it…
The sound of powerful engines revving shook Morgan out of her musings. She caught sight of two cars racing toward the intersection on the cross street, barreling forward with no sign of stopping. She stomped on her brakes to try and avoid the impending collision, but nothing happened. She tried again, and her foot went all the way to the floor.
Fuck.
Swerving pointlessly, she was slammed into, her car flipping onto its roof and spinning through the intersection.
As she skidded across the asphalt, her thoughts went to the night before.
Morgan turned off the lights in her office and sat quietly in the dark, contemplating her options. Pulling the pins out of her auburn hair, she shook it loose and ran her fingers through the shoulder-length mass of curls. She was too tired to drive the forty-five minutes it would take to get home. Besides, she would just return in a few hours anyway. She looked over at the quilt on the couch and sighed. She was grateful the leather couch was so comfortable because it looked like she’d be spending another night on the firm’s dime.
“They owe me,” she said as she closed her eyes and relaxed in her chair. Kicking off her shoes and slipping out of her panty hose, she stretched her feet. Office drag is starting to be a drag, she thought as she flexed her neck. Suddenly, she heard the elevator doors swish, followed by women’s voices coming closer to her office.
“Shit, who’s coming in at this hour?” she grumbled, ready to get up and check out who was inside the office.
A light came on in the cubicle across from her office, and she recognized her paralegal Renee’s voice saying something indistinguishable as she came into view.
“So, this is where you work. Wow. Your own cubie and everything. Nice, honey,” said a blonde in a short cocktail dress and very tall stilettos. She sat in Renee’s chair while Renee stood beside her. The blonde reached up with one arm and wrapped it around Renee’s waist while her other hand slipped under Renee’s own very short black dress and caressed her ass.
“Holy shit!” Morgan whispered to herself as she watched the two women in the cubicle. Morgan sat as still as possible to avoid being seen. This was the second time she’d heard Renee bringing a woman to the office, and this woman wasn’t the same one from last time. Morgan remembered that the privacy screen in the front window of her office had been lowered. All executives at the firm had them. Mark McMillan had said he wanted the execs to have privacy but still be able to observe their staff as well.
Micromanaging asshole.
A giggle pulled Morgan’s attention back to the two women. She sat riveted, watching Renee bend down and kiss the blonde sitting in her chair. Renee kicked off her stilettos and slid a knee into the chair, hiking what little her dress covered and exposing her round ass. Morgan raised her eyebrows when she realized that Renee wasn’t wearing any underwear.
Hmm, I wonder if she does that all the time.
“You know what, babe? We haven’t christened your office yet,” the blonde said seductively and then licked her lips.
“Michelle, shh.”
Morgan felt a tremor shoot through her body watching Renee cover her girlfriend’s lips with her finger then slide it into Michelle’s mouth. As she pulled it out, Michelle's tongue caressed the tip. Morgan heard a low moan slide out of Renee.
“Baby, you’re killing me.”
“Fuck, you’re killin’ me, Renee,” Morgan mumbled as she felt her clit tighten.
Renee slid her tongue along Michelle’s earlobe then gently bit it. She whispered something that made her girlfriend giggle again and fondled one of Michelle’s breasts. Morgan sat transfixed as Michelle slipped her hand between Renee’s legs. Renee dropped her head back, moaned, and started working her hips back and forth over Michelle’s hand.
Morgan slipped her hand between her legs and felt her own wetness. She thumbed her clit and jerked. Sliding a finger, then two, into herself, she started to masturbate as she watched Michelle’s arm pump furiously into Renee. Renee grabbed the arms of the office chair, tensing as she slid up and down on her girlfriend’s hand. Arching her back, Renee shook and exploded in orgasm.
Morgan’s own orgasm started reverberating through her body. She shuddered and bucked against her hand when she came. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against her chair. Another tremor worked through her body as she slid her fingers over the stimulated clit. Muscles clamped down on her fingers and spasmed again as she slid in and out of her wetness.
Morgan stifled a groan as she processed what she had just done. She’d masturbated off of watching and listening to Renee and her new flavor of the night. What the hell?
Looking up, she watched Michelle give Renee a wicked smile and lick her fingers. Renee followed her fingers, flicking her tongue against Michelle’s lips before she kissed her again. Breaking the kiss, Renee rested her forehead against Michelle’s and smiled.
“Your turn,” Renee said. She squatted down and spread Michelle’s legs before Michelle protested.
“ Stop. Why don’t we go into your boss’s office? I bet she has a couch or a nice rug in there.”
Both women looked at the window, then the door. Morgan blanched at the suggestion. Had she remembered to lock the door? What would she do if they found her sitting there? Oh shit! She pushed her skirt back down and grabbed her shoes. She had a small bathroom, but she was damned certain she wasn’t going to hide in there while they screwed in her office. What was she thinking? She just watched them fuck in the cubicle right in front of her. Well, they didn’t know she was there, but still.
“In Morgan’s office? No, I don’t think so, babe.”
“Why not?” Michelle asked. “She isn’t here, and she’ll never know.”
“She’ll know. Besides, I wouldn’t feel right. She’s a great boss, and every time she went into that office I would know.”
“Good girl, Renee. Now you’re thinking with your head,” Morgan whispered, sitting back down in her chair.
“Got the hots for the boss, huh?” Michelle smiled as she stood and adjusted her dress.
“Hey, if you saw her, you’d have the hots for the boss too.” Renee stood and reached into a drawer, handing a couple of sanitary wipes to Michelle. “Besides, she’s married and I have you.” Renee kissed her girlfriend again and adjusted her own dress, stepping back into her double stilettos. “Now where did I leave that key?” Renee bent over her desk, shuffling through papers in her inbox and feeling under the blotter. “Got it!” She raised a hand triumphantly above her head and tugged Michelle toward the elevator with the other.
I think we need to institute a new dress code at the firm. Short dresses and stilettos, underwear optional. Morgan watched the two women continue to grope each other as they left. She’d had no idea Renee was a lesbian. Why should she? She rarely interacted with her on a personal level. Work was work and play, well that was something Morgan didn’t do very often.
Until recently. It was like her sexuality was on full blast and unable to turn down. Morgan took in a long breath and accepted that this might be her new reality. And one she could enjoy—if she survived getting T-boned by a vehicle going at least eighty.
This is the last moment to flash before my eyes? Strange, Morgan thought she’d see some idyllic memory of her childhood, some special moment that brought her pleasure. Not that the day before hadn’t given her reason to think about her life and how she’d somehow, she’d…what? How she hadn’t been true to herself, all to get the top office, a partnership, a successful career?
Now hot sparks felt like needles as they showered her face. Bits of safety glass bounced around her, a few sharp shards cutting her exposed skin. Morgan had a death grip on the steering wheel, as if she could control the sideways slide of the car. Her neck craned away from the passing street only inches from her head.
Christ, she thought. This is how I’m going to die. Well, no open casket for Mom. What was it that people said about the last words spoken in anger? Morgan suddenly remembered the fight she had with David this morning. Another push for children, and she had given him an ultimatum. No kids and stay married, or divorce and be done with it. It was up to him. And she could tell from the hardening of his eyes that he did not agree with her demand.
Her mind slipped back into reality. The meat grinder she was spinning in crashed to a sudden stop, jerking her body back and forth. Morgan’s head finally met the pavement. The burning rubber assaulted her as her body went limp and she sagged against the hot pavement. Her vision tunneled and a piercing pain lanced through her brain. Everything went black.
“Miss…Miss…” Liberty reached a hand through the windshield to touch the woman. The unmistakable sound of two metal objects colliding echoed down the street and swung her attention to the crash. Libby didn't have time to outrun the accident, as it traveled through the intersection and stopped only yards away from her and her motorcycle. Her eyes widened, and she knew this was going to be an ugly scene and feared the worst for the victim.
“Miss...” Libby keyed the mic on her collar. “Dispatch, I need rescue on-site and backup ASAP. Vehicular at the intersection of Main and Alisal.” She gave further description of what she’d witnessed, knowing what fire and paramedics would need to know.
“Copy that, Charlie Twelve. Medical is on the way. Are you hurt?”
“Negative, so far I have one female vic...” She reached into the vehicle and ran a slender hand along the woman's neck. A faint pulse—at least she thought it was a pulse. The thready beating of the woman’s heart gave Libby a little comfort.
“Are there other injuries?” the dispatcher blared through the radio. “How many vehicles involved?”
“Two vehicles, one with one passenger. The other...” She looked over at the slightly crumpled muscle car as two males tried exiting. Neither showed any signs of trauma.
“How many?”
The young man was squeezing out of the passenger door while the other stood in front of his former muscle car surveying the damage.
“Dude, my car. My fucking car.” He looked over at Libby and the crumpled wreck.
Libby spoke calmly. “There are two men coming out of the second vehicle, but they don't seem to be hurt too badly.”
“Can you see the other car?”
“Copy that.” Libby returned to the woman. Her face was covered in blood to the point that little red bubbles were forming at her nostrils with each shallow breath.
“She's hurt pretty bad. I can barely feel a pulse.” Libby touched her shoulder and gently shook her. “Ma'am?”
As if the dispatcher on the other end could see what she was doing, the dispatcher said, “Charlie Twelve, don't touch her. Rescue is on their way.”
No, of course. I wouldn't think of it. Libby brushed at the glass littering the scene and sat next to the woman. Grabbing her hand, she began to say a short prayer. She didn't know what else to do. For all she knew she could be the last person who ever held her again. Libby didn’t want the woman to die alone if she slipped away from this world.
“Dude, what the fuck?” The kid who’d been in the other car surveyed the damage and now stood in front of Libby, his hands on his hips. He looked as if he’d just popped out of an eighties’ rap video: his sideways hat, a bleached-blond crew cut, an oversized team jersey, and baggy jeans. Brand-new gleaming white high tops finished his outfit.
It pissed Libby off, how unconcerned he was for the woman dying in her arms now. “You came from out of nowhere and hit her,” Libby sneered. “Your fucking car got what you deserved, asshole!”
The kid leaned over Libby before she could push off the pavement. She carefully positioned away from the woman and stood. Clearly, he was intimidated by her uniform from the moment she stood. It was like he didn’t notice what she’d been wearing the entire time. Libby wasn't a violent person, but this kid wasn't going to make a bad situation worse. Even though his eyes wandered from her to the woman and back to her, he was too wired to back down now. Not with his other friend watching.
“Donnie, stop. Can't you see she's hurt?” The other guy in the car finally walked up, trying to grab Donnie and pull him away.
The kid was five seconds away from Libby beating the shit out of him. He jerked his arm back and pointed to the unconscious woman still in the mangled mess. “She did this. She should have been watching where she was going.”
“We should get the fuck out of here before more cops get here,” his buddy hollered in protest. He was clearly on drugs, especially if he thought confronting Libby was a smart idea. She recognized the telltale signs, sure that he was high at this point.
“Too late.” Libby tapped at her shield. She couldn’t believe they were acting like she wasn’t there. They looked at each other as she recognized the fight or flight response. Please don't let them be this dumb.
The wannabe rap kid turned on his heel and bolted for the park. Libby stood and stared at the second guy, then looked back at the woman in the car. She pointed her finger at him. “Don't even think about it. I'll drop you where you stand.” She put her hand on her gun and thumbed the holster strap out. She was bluffing, but the kid didn’t know that and she couldn’t leave the woman and let these assholes bolt. “Leaving the scene of an accident is a crime. So, your buddy is already going to jail. Don't join in. Unless you’re itching to have some O.G. in jail make you his bitch.”
