His hands gripped her hips, the fingers digging into the flesh as he lifted her to where he could position himself at her core. Their eyes locked and she noticed she’d stopped breathing in anticipation for his intrusion. He smiled, light sparkling within the emerald green of his eyes and in one fluid motion, he pushed himself inside, exquisitely filling her and stirring to life the volcano of need that’d almost reduced to her to ash only a few minutes before. Her mouth fell open, but the passionate cry that sounded was swallowed when his weight fell over her and his lips sealed over hers taking her breath, her cries, and his name as it rolled off her tongue.
Moving within her with a rhythm that eventually drove him deeper inside, he broke the kiss, and pushed up to look down at the small woman beneath him. He sped up, pushing them both hastily to a point where words could not be formed in their minds or on their tongues. Her hands ran along his back, her fingers smoothing over the skin covered with a sheen of sweat from the heat being poured from his body. It was carnal pleasure, completely overwhelming them both until finally, they found their release together. His lips parted and a feral growl escaped his chest, his throat while she screamed out, pushing a ball of energy from within her, an orgasm too vivid and powerful to contain. Finally, he lay down beside her, taking her into his arms and delivering to her the peace that had been stolen so many months before.
Chapter Fifteen
“I don’t understand why you bother keeping her around. It’s obvious she’s unable to give you what you want…an heir. Why not just get rid of her and use one of the other women within the network who would happily give you what you need?” Emory sat back against the leather couch in Joseph’s office. His fingers brought up to his face, he looked over his nails while attempting to convince Joseph to take the final step to setting himself free of a woman who’d caused nothing but problems since the network was built. “She poisons you, Joseph. You are too busy and important to be concerning yourself with something that has become useless - an anchor to a life you no longer live.”
Rage bloomed within Joseph’s chest at Emory’s words and the nonchalant tone in which he spoke them. Bending forward he picked up a straw from the surface of his desk, placing it to his nose before inhaling the sweet escape of the drug he had lined up before him.
His head swam, his thoughts flickered out for a split second while the drug crept into his blood stream and followed a numbing path along his veins. His habit had started slowly, a way to temper the rage he felt at his failing marriage, the humiliation he daily suffered not being able to produce a child with Arianna. It was a nagging thought at first, but his obsession grew quickly, but not so much with the desire for a child as it was with his need to prove his own virility. It was an accomplishment not achieved and a failure he could not accept.
When Joseph didn’t respond, Emory stop examining his hands and looked up with eyes so dark, the brown appeared black and lifeless. “I don’t even know why you want a child so badly. Who will care for the vile thing? Certainly, not you.”
“Arianna will care for it. She would be its mother – and it will be her, not some two bit whore that births him. Do you really think I’d muddy up the gene pool by impregnating some dumb bitch?”
The angry tone to Joseph’s words caused Emory to straighten where he sat. Joseph eyed his guard intently before continuing. “Have you ever wanted immortality? I do - because I know that at some point, I’ll no longer exist. Yet, I can beat even death itself by leaving behind a genetic link, something that can take over, to be a reminder of having existed at all.” He paused, a wicked smile touching the sides of his lips. “Besides, who would manage The Estate when I die? Do you think I’d trust it to just anyone? It’s as much a child to me as anything Arianna can push out of her body. If I have a son, I can raise him to be stronger than me, smarter, deadlier. My network will never fall apart, even years after I’m still able to run it.”
After lowering his head to inhale another line, Joseph sat back and allowed his head to fall to the side, his eyes watching the heavy rain that fell outside his window. The woods were all but obscured by the violence of the storm. Every so often lighting would crack the sky before the answering thunder would roll so loudly, it shook the windows and walls of the mansion.
Turning his head back to Emory, he reached out to cut more lines of the drug that was slowly eating away at his sanity. “Honestly, I could care less about the bitch. Ever since I told her about what I’d built, the successes I’d gained, all she fucking wanted was to leave. It’ll be fitting to force her through a pregnancy, to show her that, without doubt, she belongs to me, regardless of whether she likes it or not.”
Emory smiled, playing the devil’s advocate, he asked, “Are you not concerned about how much time she spends with Connor? Their daily walks out into the woods? How sure are you that he’s not working towards the same goal as you?”
Joseph stopped chopping and slowly placed the razor blade aside before looking up at his guard. “Do not mistake me for a fool, Emory. Connor is not that stupid…and neither am I. I have men watching them constantly. All that’s been reported to me is that Connor guards her as he should, never touching her or barely even talking to her.” He paused, a sick smile creeping along his features. “Not that Arianna would have anything to do with a man like him anyway. He basically ensured that they day he beheaded a man in front of her.” He sat up and placed his elbows on the desk. “I know my wife, Emory. She’s a prude, she’s a tease; but she’s not a whore. I have little concern about that.”
. . .
Two weeks passed since Arianna and Connor had been in the cave and Arianna stood in her bedroom looking at a calendar, counting the days on her fingers that she was late.
“No.” One word, whispered so low that only she could hear it. She moved away from the wall, paced the floor in front of her bed, fighting tears from falling down her face. She’d hoped it wouldn’t be possible, but the signs, the sickness, told her that not only was it possible, it had occurred. Growing dizzy from the rush of emotions combined with the constant movement of her body across the floor, she finally sat on her bed, holding her head between her hands to keep from throwing up.
She’d woken up that morning feeling fine. Joseph hadn’t shown up for over three days and she’d gotten out of bed and walked into the bathroom to take a shower and brush her teeth. The shower was uneventful but when she leaned over the sink and scrubbed at her teeth, her gag reflex kicked in and she found herself quickly bent over the toilet throwing up whatever bit of dinner still remained in her stomach from the night before. Forcing herself back on her feet after she’d spent several minutes dry heaving, she moved into the bedroom closet and put on a simple dress that wouldn’t press on her sensitive stomach.
Now sitting, glancing up at the clock on the wall, she knew Connor waited in the living room to escort her to breakfast and then the music room. It was their daily routine on the mornings following Joseph’s absence. Connor had started sleeping in the guest room on those nights, a secondary guard sent down by Joseph always stationed in front of the front doors to the suite.
She couldn’t go out there and face him, face anybody without fear that she’d immediately break down, crushed by the knowledge that she would bring a child into the nightmare that had become her life.
Lying back on the bed, she stared up at the small iron chandelier that hung from the ceiling, her legs hung over the sides, her foot kicking back and forth. She heard the slide of metal against the tile floor when her toe brushed up against the shackle that Joseph kept attached to the foot of the bed. Instantly, she pulled her legs up, sitting up to wrap her arms around her knees, tears streaming down her face when she allowed herself to look down at the floor, her eyes finding the bits of the chain links that she’d accidentally dragged into view.
A soft knock at the door and she used her toe to quickly kick the chain back under the bed, the sound of metal against stone causing her stomach to turn and a chill to ru
n up her spine. The door clicked open and Connor peeked into the room, his eyebrows raised in question at her obvious distress.
“What’s wrong?” He pushed into the room, quickly crossing the floor to kneel down at the foot of the bed.
Turning her head away, she closed her eyes, avoiding the depth of the jade green eyes that stared up at her. She didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to see the painful expression that was sure to cross his face. She felt his hand grab hers just before he stood up to take a seat next to her on the mattress. The bed sinking beneath her from his weight, she continued in her refusal to look at him when she said, “Get off the bed, Connor. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had cameras in this room, or the entire house for that matter.”
He stood up, immediately moving to stand by the door, his face taking on a disinterested expression as he resumed the sentry position. “Let’s go for a walk. We can talk by the stream.”
Her stomach churned, a mixture of morning sickness and disgust at what she would have to tell him. Knowing he’d find out eventually, she sighed deeply, resigned to speak words she didn’t know she could say.
“I can’t go for a walk today. I don’t feel well.” She looked up into his face; saw the concern that swirled within the depths of his eyes. Whisper soft, she confessed, “I think I’m pregnant.” She lowered her legs over the bed and wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach. “Oh, God, I’m going to bring that bastard’s child into the world.”
“Or mine.”
He’d spoken so quietly, she wasn’t sure she’d heard him. Her blue eyes shining bright with tears, she looked up at his face, her heart breaking to see realization darkening his gaze. Just slightly, her head shook, disbelief consuming her, driving her farther into despair.
He blinked…once – twice…and his tone was curt when he finally said, “Lay down, get some sleep, and see if you feel better when you wake up. If you can, we’re going out to the stream. We need to talk.”
Before she could argue, he stepped into the hall and shut the door. She wasn’t angry at his brevity, and she knew that his reaction would have been different if they’d not been in the house. But he was right, they did need to talk, and she hoped she’d feel up to it after she got some rest. With eyes burning, she lay back on the mattress again, curling into a fetal position, her body trembling with grief while she lost herself to sleep.
. . .
They walked quickly through the woods, her stomach having settled after she slept for a few hours. Connor was tense, each muscle of his body locked, his defensive posture apparent in his gait. He didn’t move faster than she could follow and he still stopped to assist her over top roots and other obstacles that littered the path. The sky was covered in clouds again and she worried that rain could fall at any time while they made their way farther out into the woods. Small bits of light streamed in from where the leaves were less dense above their heads.
When they finally reached the stream, he led her to a large rock that sat along the edge, holding her hand until she was sitting down. “I’m fine, Connor. You don’t need to start treating my like I’m fragile so early. I’ll need more help when I’m so big I can’t see my toes anymore” She attempted levity to try and lighten the mood that weighed down his shoulders, but he didn’t crack even a slight smile in response to her words.
Intently, he stared down at her when he said, “I’m getting you out of here, Arianna. We’re leaving tonight.” Moving from her side, he ran his hands through his hair and began pacing back and forth along the edge of the stream.
“How will we get out? Where will we go? No. It’s insane; we can’t do this. We don’t even know for sure that I’m pregnant…”
“Are you late?” He turned to her suddenly, the green of his eyes shining brilliantly in the sunlight.
“Yes,” she admitted quietly.
“Then we’re leaving.” Stepping towards her, he grabbed her arms, pulling her closer into him, hugging her while resting his head on top of her head. Her body shook against him, sobs escaping her throat.
“We can’t, Connor. It won’t work. Just getting out will be dangerous, but after that, what will we do? He’ll find us, and I don’t even want to think about what he would do to us if we were caught.” He held her tightly, and when he didn’t respond she added, “It could be his child, as much as yours.”
“I don’t care. I’m not letting that monster anywhere near you again. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long. I know the risks, but I can’t sit idly and not try.”
She was sick of crying, of the constant state of futility in which they lived. But she knew agreeing to leaving was risking his life. Her heart beat rapidly and her voice cracked when she said, “It’s too much of a risk. I can’t - I won’t do it.” Breathing deeply, she begged, “Connor, you need to leave. You can get out of here and he won’t look for you, he has no need to keep you here, but you know if I leave, he won’t rest until he’s found me. He’s insane, if he were to catch you, he’ll kill you.”
“It’s a risk worth taking!”
She jumped in response to his raised voice and shame instantly appeared in his features when he looked down at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…fuck!” Letting her go, he walked away again and what was left of her already broken heart was crushed into dust as she watched him struggle with their fate.
Quietly, purposefully, she suggested, “Let’s give it some time. You can figure out a way, a plan that would help us leave, possibly someone who’d be willing to help. However, leaving here tonight, with nothing but anger and rage to shelter us, that would be suicide. You have to agree with me on that, Connor. It’s the only reason we’ve stayed as long as we have.”
He stopped pacing, but didn’t turn to look at her. His eyes remained locked on the water and the distant field that spread out before them. “I will find a way Arianna, I don’t know how long it will take, but I will find a way.”
Chapter Sixteen
Futility. Hopelessness. Impotence. Those were the only words to describe their life. After the day by the stream, Connor worked quickly in an attempt to find a way to not only escape the Estate, but to remain hidden after they’d accomplished it. However, barriers and roadblocks were all he could find. The Estate’s reach was far and deep. Connor had to be careful regarding the people he approached, and even when he could find a person who would not report back to Joseph Carmichael, they refused from fear of being caught. Had it just been Connor, the chances would have been better, but as soon as it was mentioned that he intended on taking Joseph’s wife with him, most people would refuse.
When Arianna’s symptoms were discovered by Joseph, he’d immediately hired a midwife to assist her for the duration of the pregnancy. Connor and Arianna were never left alone, and she was specifically restricted from leaving the mansion. Security in the right wing was heightened and Joseph’s appearances became more frequent. The only blessing that could be gained from the discovery that she was pregnant was that Joseph’s abuse stopped and Arianna was not subjected to the degradation to which she’d become accustomed.
As Arianna grew larger, and when the baby inside her moved, her love for that child grew with her expanding waistline, and she couldn’t care which man had sired the child. She spent more time in the music room, playing to the developing child in her womb, wondering if she’d be given a son or daughter. Over the months of her pregnancy, she’d written a song for the child. She’d intended for the song to be happy, to express the love she had for the person she’d someday meet, but the melody had come out sad and hauntingly beautiful instead. Secretly, she’d given the music to Connor after it had been completed and he took it, had it transcribed and penned under a fake name, returning it to her as a present for the child that was to come.
“Push!”
Her legs spread wide, Arianna’s teeth clenched to the point of fracturing while the midwife sat positioned to assist with the birth. She’d been in labor for seven hours, had writhed atop the bla
nkets of her bed, while Joseph paced at the foot. His presence sickened her, and although the midwife had told him it would be hours until the child was born, he’d refused to leave. Playing the role of the concerned husband, he made Arianna’s stomach turn. Every touch, each caress, every offer of assistance or comfort caused her to flinch away from the monster she knew was hidden beneath the caring façade.
Bringing her knees up, bearing herself to the midwife, she pushed down with her body, forcing the child out into the cold air of the room. Pain unlike anything she’d known, tore through her center, made her feel like she was being ripped in two as the child progressed downwards.
When the midwife announced that the child’s head could be seen, Joseph stopped pacing and leaned against the opposite wall to watch as the baby emerged. Grey eyes alight with anticipation, he smiled when the baby’s head was exposed, and his eyes beamed when it was finally discovered that the child was a boy.
Falling back into the sweat soaked pillow, tears ran from Arianna’s eyes at the announcement. She was thankful she could hide the true reason for her tears beneath the guise of pain. When the baby wailed, a small cry that spoke of life and health, Arianna silently apologized to the child, and prayed for the future of a soul born into damnation.
After the boy had been cleaned, the midwife handed him to Joseph swaddled in a small blue blanket. The sight was unnerving; Joseph lovingly caressed the child’s head with hands that had been used for torture and abuse. The midwife stayed long enough to deliver the final remnants of the pregnancy and to clean Arianna enough so that she could comfortably lie back on the bed. When they were finally left alone, Joseph approached her holding the small child in his arms.