Beyond His Control (His 2)

The way he looks at me, so full of adoration, shakes me to my core.

“Tell the truth,” he murmurs.

I close my eyes and let out a sigh. I’ve been so caught up in running that I never had a chance to think about what I was leaving behind; the unspoken feelings still lingering between us. But I can’t let them blind me either.

“I’m …” I don’t even know what to say.

He cocks his head, and a gentle smile appears on his face. “It’s okay. It’s okay to be mad.”

As he comes closer, my body yields to his touch, craves his warmth, and I fall for the trap so easily. With his hands snaked around my back, I cave to his embrace willingly.

I shouldn’t, but I’m unable to resist the pull. It’s always been there, from the very first time I met him, and now there’s a baby growing inside me that carries his DNA.

Noah

“I’m so confused,” she says.

I completely understand. Anyone would be if they were in her shoes.

I place a kiss on her forehead. “It will be okay.” I touch her belly, and heat flows through me. Is my child still in there? God, I hope so. I pray he’s all right.

“Is our baby okay?” I ask.

She bites her lip. “I think so. I bled today, so I went to the hospital. They said it was a minor bleed, and that he was still in there, and that there was no need to worry.”

A breath of relief escapes my mouth. “But he’s alive.”

“Or her,” she says.

It’s enough for me. I trust her. I’m in awe of her strength, and the willpower she’s shown. I would’ve expected her to try to get rid of it, but she didn’t, which proves she cares about the baby … and about us even though she might not admit that out loud.

I place a hand on her shoulder. “But you are worried.”

She nods again and rubs her own arms. “I don’t know what to do. I didn’t want to keep it, but I can’t get rid of it either.” She sighs out loud. “I don’t know why I’m even telling you all this. You’re the …”

“Enemy?” I raise my brows.

“I didn’t want to put it like that, but you’re here to take me away again.” She eyes me from underneath her eyelashes as though my mere presence threatens her.

I don’t blame her. I did come here to claim her and bring her back. But a part of me understands things aren’t as easy as they seem, and I think she knows that too. Nothing in this world is black and white. If I take my wife back to the community, my son or daughter will grow up resenting me for what I did to their mother. But I can’t let her stay here either, knowing she’s carrying my child, my future heir.

She suddenly jerks herself free from my grip and walks off. “I’m not coming with you. Don’t think you can convince me. Did you send those guards after me? And those dogs?” she hisses, searching through her kitchen drawers. “Answer me!”

“That was my father, unfortunately,” I reply. Well, partly. The other half was my decision.

She scowls at me, and says, “I shouldn’t have come back here. You know where I live, you’ve seen the room … you know my past now, all my secrets.” Goose bumps erupt on her skin, and I can’t help but feel as though she’s in desperate need of someone she can trust. And that person … isn’t me.

Because in her mind, I will always be the bad guy.

Right then, she pulls out a knife. “Leave.”

She points the knife in my direction, but the tears are welling up in her eyes again. It hurts just to look at her. She’s in so much pain from being alone in a place she’s no longer at home in.

“You don’t belong here anymore. These people haven’t been through what you’ve been through, so they’ll never understand,” I say.

“Shut up,” she yells, the knife shaking in her hand. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I think you do. You want someone to listen to you, to hear you, to know your story, and I do. I know every inch.”

“You were the cause of all my misery and heartache!” she yells. “You ripped out my heart and stomped on it for fun!”

“Natalie … You have to understand I’m trying to change things at the community, and I can only do that when I have you by my side. You have to come back home with me.”

“No!” she yells. “There’s no place for me there or anywhere. I don’t have a home. I don’t need a home.”

“Everyone needs a home, including you,” I reply.

“This baby …” She holds her belly with her free hand. “Deserves a better place to grow up in.”