Beyond His Control (His 2)

I let my wife slip through my fingers with my baby in her belly.

Will she be okay? And what will happen to our baby?

I feel sick to my stomach. I have to find her as soon as possible.

Someone knocks on the door. “Noah.”

It’s my father.

I tuck the stick into my pocket and turn to face him. “Have they found her?”

He shakes his head, and I sigh out loud, clutching my fist. “Dammit.”

“Watch your tongue in the House of the Lord,” my father growls.

My nostrils flare. “I don’t care.”

“You’re a patriarch, so act like one,” he barks. “Just because your wife is gone does not mean you get to act like a heretic around here.” He plants his hand on my chest, then beckons me with the other. “What are you hiding?”

I frown. “Nothing.”

He cocks his head. “Don’t lie to me. I saw you put something in your pocket. Show me.”

Heat rises in my throat, and I want to punch him in the gut, but that wouldn’t do me any good right now. I’d hoped he hadn’t seen the stick, and I should’ve hidden it the moment I found it, but I couldn’t stop staring at it. Too late now.

My father holds out his hand, and I pull out the stick and place it in his hand. “I found this on the bathroom floor in her room.”

His eyes widen when he sees the line. “She’s … pregnant.”

I nod.

“And you let her use this?” He holds the stick as though it’s a wand he’s about to cast a spell with. “You know these things are forbidden here!”

“She’s a captured. I took appropriate measures to ensure fertilization,” I reply. I hate talking about it like it’s simply a science experiment when it’s so much more than that. But it’s the only way I can defend my actions without being suspicious. “She would have lied to me if I asked her for the truth.”

“Women cannot hide their impurity each month, son,” he sneers.

“She could,” I reply. “And she definitely would if she had the chance.”

He slams the stick against my chest. “You’d better take care of this … thing … before the other patriarchs find it.”

I nod. “That’s the plan.”

I tuck it back into my pocket. I’ll have to figure out where I’m going to hide it as I can’t just dispose of it.

He narrows his eyes, and says, “Why do I get the feeling you’ve got more ‘plans’ up your sleeve?”

I keep a straight face even though I know he’s prying. He knows me too well. “Only to keep the lineage going.”

“Right …” He pauses. “Well, I wanted to let you know I got word back from some of the guards who went out looking for them. The hounds returned … without prey.”

I grind my teeth, stopping myself from spurting out more curse words.

“I don’t know how they managed to pull it off,” he says.

“Natalie is from the outside world. She knows it better than our men,” I reply.

He raises his brow. “Better than our hounds?”

“She’s cunning; I have to give her that.” I suck in a breath. “But I won’t give up.”

“Good. It’s already bad enough that Marsha caused this whole ordeal.” He folds his arms. “It’s almost as if she started that fire just so Natalie could escape.”

Of course she did. That’s the only reason she would ever light herself on fire. I still can’t believe she had the balls to do it, but maybe I underestimated her.

Father clears his throat. “You know she needs to be punished for what she did.”

I frown and pace around the room. I have to be careful with my words, even around him. One misstep and I could jeopardize everything. “Perhaps. But not now.”

“How is she?” he asks.

I look him directly in the eyes, hoping he might see the fire burning in my eyes as I saw it in hers. “Not well.”

“Alive?”

I gaze at my patched-up hand, which stings with fury underneath the bandage, and I nod. “Only time will tell.”

Natalie

On the train, I manage to find an unattended bag filled with clothes and some money. I tuck the money into my bra and steal two sets of clothes that I hope the person won’t miss too much. I don’t want to be a criminal, but we have to put something on or we’ll freeze.

I help Emmy put on the new clothes. They don’t fit well, but at least they’ll keep us warm. She doesn’t even react to them, despite the fact that she’s probably not worn anything other than white since she was born.

She’s shivering in a corner. She hasn’t said much, if anything at all, since we stepped onto the train. All she does is stare straight ahead.

Maybe the escape got to her. After all, it’s not every day that you’re chased by hounds while trying to flee through the woods, wearing only underwear, after barely surviving a wild river. In the long run, that has got to do something to a person’s psyche.