Beyond His Control (His 2)

I sigh and go back up the stairs and enter my home, where I place the bag of groceries on the table and sink down onto the couch, hugging a pillow tight. Emmy must be going through hell right now. The fear. The anguish.

They’ll probably hurt her … so badly.

I close my eyes and stuff my fingers into my ears.

I don’t wanna know, but my mind … it compels me to place myself in her shoes, forcing me to feel the pain she’s about to endure, and it wounds me. It cuts into my soul and strips me of every defense I ever had. I scream out loud even though I’m alone.

There’s no one here to hear.

Just like there’s no one there to hear Emmy’s torment as she’s dragged all the way back to that “camp,” that infernal hellhole filled with nothing but heartless monsters.

Fucking Family …

Emmy and I were more of a family than those people could ever be, even in what little time we had together.

I grunt to myself and throw the pillow out of frustration, wishing it was a brick I could smash into someone’s head.

If only I’d watched her more carefully. If I’d only held her hand, then she wouldn’t have gotten snatched away. If I hadn’t gone inside, maybe I could’ve smacked him in the head and alerted people around us to help.

But I didn’t. And I will never, ever forget or forgive myself for that.

Suddenly, my belly cramps, so I run to the toilet, but instead of peeing … there’s blood. My eyes widen as panic fills my veins.

Is my baby okay?

A mixture of feelings shakes me to my bones. I don’t know why I care so much. This baby was made there in the Community. Noah is the father. I shouldn’t want this …

Yet right now, I want nothing more than for this baby to survive.

What do I do? Where do I go?

I don’t have anyone to help me, so there’s only one option left; the hospital.

I’d wanted to avoid any big facilities at all cost for fear of being identified, as I’m sure Noah has the means to track me down if anyone enters my information into a computer. But Noah already knows where I live; how else would that man have found us and taken Emmy?

It’s already too late. And with a bleed like this, I have no choice but to go, so I pack my things and run out the door.

Noah

Hours later

At nightfall, I go to her home.

I’ve always known where it was, but I wanted to forge a plan first so we could capture both girls and bring them back alive and unharmed. Unfortunately, there’s no time for that anymore. The guy probably already took Emmy, which means Natalie knows we’re here and that I’m coming for her.

No time to waste. I have to act now.

I ring a random doorbell and wait until a stranger picks up his phone.

“Hi, I have a delivery for you,” I lie.

The guy presses the button, and the door to the building opens up. Too easy.

I go in and run up the flight of stairs, just in time before the man whose apartment I rang walks outside to wait for his nonexistent package. I’m already out of sight, and I quickly go up to her apartment door.

I wonder if she’s home.

Without waiting, I ring the doorbell.

No one opens up. Guess not.

Fuck. I hope she hasn’t run already. But it’s worth waiting. Maybe she’ll come back.

I fish out the key I stole from her the moment we took her and stick it into her door. It opens with ease, and I step inside and look around. I’ve never taken a look around. The last time I was here, it was solely to use her laptop to announce to her job she’d quit and to tell her landlord in writing that she’d be vacating the place.

I would’ve never guessed I’d actually come back here. Or that she would.

She’s clearly been here, as there’s stuff all over the place, blankets, clothes, water dripping from the faucet, used cups. I guess she ran off in a hurry … but to do what?

I look around the place and notice the door opposite to the bathroom is open. What’s inside immediately captures my attention. A changing station … and a crib?

Her scar.

Of course.

Why didn’t it dawn on me sooner?

A smirk spreads across my lips as I slide my hand across the table and touch the butterflies on the wall. Cute. Exactly how I imagined she’d decorate a nursery for her child.

But where is the child? And why does this room look as though it’s been perpetually stuck in time?

No wonder she refused to tell me about the scar on her belly. She’s afraid I’d use it against her … or worse, that I’d find her kid and use him to keep her with me.