That means nothing. “We’ve got to get her out of there.”
“That’s impossible,” he says, shaking his head. “You know the trouble she went through to get you out of there, you think it’s gonna be easy to get her out?”
“No, but you’re a patriarch. You have privileges,” I reply, and I lean over to stare straight into his soul. “You’ve done it before, Noah. You can do it again.”
“Things have changed since your first disappearance. The community is much more heavily guarded now. And a fully grown adult doesn’t fit into a trunk either,” he says, smashing all my dreams to bits.
“There has to be something we can do,” I beg, on the verge of desperation. “I can’t leave her in there while she’s suffering and in pain.”
“The doctors have medication too. Our community gets supplies from this world occasionally,” he says. “We only use it in dire situations.”
“Oh, sure, like that’s going to make me feel better,” I scoff.
He just looks at me and pets my hand. He’s too sweet, too kind, and I hate it.
“Stop,” I say, pulling away. “I can’t. I just can’t deal with this.”
“It’s okay. I knew this would happen.”
A sudden rage overtakes me and spills out through my mouth.
“You knew she was alive, and you didn’t tell me,” I hiss. “Just like before, when you knew she was my mother, and you didn’t tell me. You … lied. Again.”
“I didn’t lie. I was going to tell you, eventually.”
“When?” I snort. “After I’d already come back with you?”
“When you were ready,” he says with the most earnest voice that pushes all my buttons. “Because you’re pregnant and under a lot of stress, and I didn’t want to worsen the situation.”
“Worsen the situation?” I jolt up from my seat. “You already did that the moment you and your partner showed up and stole away Emmy!”
He’s still trying to hold me. “Listen to me. I care about you more than anything, but you need to calm down. What good is panicking now? You can’t help your mother if you work yourself into a heart attack,” he growls. “Yes, I initially came to get you back, but I promised you I wouldn’t take you with me unless you said yes. And I’m sticking to that promise.”
“Why now? Out of all the times you could’ve chosen to help me, why choose my side now?” I know I sound angry, but I can’t help but question his motives.
He grabs my hand again. “Because my only goal has always been to change the community from the inside out. This is why I wanted you to experience the outside world, so you knew how twisted our community was,” he explains. “This is the truth. This isn’t something that happened over night, Natalie. I’ve been planning this for years. And when the time came, I went out looking for you. I was hoping you’d come search for me too, that you’d remember us.”
I swallow away the lump in my throat.
He squeezes my hands. “I just didn’t realize you’d forgotten about us … and how hard it would be to bring you back. To make you experience all the suffering our women go through.” He grabs a strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. “I needed you to experience all of the pain and all of the sorrow … so you would know exactly why it needed to be changed. None of the women there understand, but you do. You know both worlds. And only you can change it … with me.”
I shake my head. “I can’t. This … this is … so much to take.” I sit down on a chair before I lose my balance again. “You planned all of this?” I ask him straight up. “Even the suffering hut?”
He nods. “The suffering hut was the only way to make you see the real community. It is part of the initiation.” When he sees my angered face, he goes down on one knee in front of me. “If I had taken you straight to the Temple, lavished you with gifts and showered you with adoration … you wouldn’t have wanted to change a thing about the community.”
I lick my lips and let it all sink in for a moment. “You wanted me to become a martyr.”
This is the reason? This is the reason I went through all that shit? So that I could learn what it felt like to gain independence and then lose it?
It all feels so … hollow.
“My intention was never to hurt you, but for you to understand,” he says.
I frown and look away. I don’t know what to do with all of this information. It doesn’t make the pain sting any less or the memories go away. Everything I experienced is now lodged forever in my soul.
The Family changed me, and he can’t ever take that back. Being here, in my apartment, in the real world outside the community can’t fix that either. Nothing can.
And worst of all, I’m not merely deciding over my own fate and that of the people in the community, but I have to decide over my baby’s fate too … and it has no choice in the matter.
“I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but know that I always had this intention from day one. I’ve fought so hard, and it’s been difficult seeing you like that.”
“Then you should’ve thought of another plan,” I reply.
“You know those men,” he says, tilting my chin so he can gaze into my eyes. “You know the violence they’d use to silence the people. To keep the women subdued. But together, we can make a difference.”
Suddenly, someone bangs on the door, and I immediately get up in panic. “What was that?” I whisper.
Noah turns around and listens with his ear against the wood.
Another loud bang pulls him away.
The door swings open.
Men burst inside, one of them … the president himself.
My eyes widen as adrenaline courses through my veins, fear igniting my heart.
“Finally,” the president says, his voice bringing chills to my spine.
“What … what’s happening?” I mutter, as he grabs ahold of my arm. “Why are you here?”
“To get you, of course …” he scoffs, as though he finds it odd I’d even ask that question. “And to get my unborn grandchild.”
My lips quiver. He knows. How? I never said a word. Did he find the stick? Or was Noah the one to tell him?
“It took some time to find where you were staying, but I’m glad we figured it out on time,” he says, turning his head toward Noah, who’s being held by two other elders. “Thanks for keeping her safe, Noah.”
My jaw drops as I focus on Noah. “You did this? You told him where I was?”
“I didn’t, I swear,” Noah says.
“Shut your mouth!” the president barks. “You’ve already done enough damage.” He nods at the elders. “Go.”
They drag Noah out of the apartment, who fights them tooth and nail. “Natalie! I swear, I didn’t say a word! You have to believe me! I don’t know how he found out!”
His words fade into the hallway as they take him away, and they fall on deaf ears.
He lied to me. He told me I would be safe, and that he wouldn’t take me away unless I said yes, but now the president himself has come to my apartment. How else would he have known about my address if it wasn’t for Noah?
My hands turn into fists as rage consumes me.
But when the president turns his head to face me, I feel weak again. Powerless, just like when I was still in the community, fighting for the same freedom I’m about to lose.
I look around, but there’s nothing—no knife, no scissors—that I can quickly snatch off the counter to use as a weapon.
“Don’t try anything,” the president warns. His tone alone makes me shiver. “You’re outnumbered. You’re not going to win this.” He holds out his hand. “Now come with me.”
When I don’t respond or give him my hand, he grabs my arm and gently tugs. It’s not much, but it still sways me to move. Not because of the way he pulls, but because of his penetrative stare that tells me everything I need to know.
I have no choice.
No options.
No way out.
And a cruel smile spr
eads on his lips. “We’re going home … daughter.”
Chapter 10
Natalie
With a bag over my head and a rope around my wrists, I’m thrown into a van. I scream, but the gag they stuffed in my mouth prevents the sound from traveling anywhere. No one can hear me. No one will come and save me. It’s happening all over again, and I can’t stop it.
Tears well up in my eyes, but I push them back, as crying won’t help me now.
More noise follows. Someone’s thrown into the back of the van with me. “Hello?” I say, but I doubt it sounds like anything more than random gurgles.
“It’s me,” Noah whispers. “Don’t scream. Keep your head down.”
“Fuck you!” I hiss through the gag, but it’s no use since anything I say gets distorted.
I try to spit it out, but it won’t budge either.
“They’re taking us back,” Noah says.
“Be quiet!” someone barks. It sounds like the president, but I can’t see a thing through this
hood. “You’ve already wasted enough of my time. Let’s go.”
The car begins to drive, and I scream, to no avail.
I’m going back there to that hellhole, to that place I vowed never to go back to.
Adrenaline rushes through my veins, and I immediately start kicking and fighting, trying to get out.
“Calm down!” Noah says.
I keep kicking the doors and the windows, hoping they might break so I can jump out. Even though the car is driving and it might kill me, the need to control the situation consumes me.
I can’t handle knowing that I’m going back there … and that I’m now pregnant too.
This baby deserves better.
And it’s all because Noah dared to come and find me.
Because he’s so obsessed with me that he can’t let me live in peace.
And if he orchestrated this, I’ll never forgive him.
As he tries to hold me down, I punch him in the gut with what little strength I have.
He groans, and I move away toward some of the windows, where I press as many buttons as I can find.
“Do something,” the president barks at someone.
Within ten seconds, a painful jab hits my neck.
A needle?
Shit.
I grunt in pain and feel my strength fading.
Without wanting to, I slump over, unable to move, and within seconds, my eyes close … and my mind drifts off to nowhere.
* * *
Noah
I flick the needle out of the elder’s hand. “How dare you drug my wife!”
“I … uh … Sorry, patriarch, but—”
“Don’t apologize,” the president says. “It was my call to make.” He glares at me now. “You’d better calm down before I do something you’ll regret.”
That was a threat, and I won’t take it lightly. I know he has the power to kill me if he wanted to. All that’s needed is a snap of the finger and they’d hang me by the gates as a warning to others; defy the president and you die.
It’s plain and simple. He makes the rules … and he can break them too.
My wife is his daughter, and he’ll rein her in whenever he wants to.
But fuck him for laying a hand on her.
“You might be her husband, but she is my daughter,” he says. “Do you have a death wish?”
“No, president,” I reply, averting my eyes.
“I think you do,” he muses, a devilish smile forming on his lips. “I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you failed to disclose to me that you found her and brought her back to the community … and then you let her run off.”
“I—”
He raises his hand. “I don’t want to hear it now. First, we go home.”
He immediately presses a button that closes the window between the front section of the car and the back, blocking any form of conversation on purpose. But I know my reckoning is coming … all I have to do is wait.
I tug at the hem of my shirt, feeling nauseous all of the sudden.
I never intended for any of this to happen, and now that it has, I don’t know how to fix it.
My entire plan, all the pawns I put into place, all of it … gone … wiped off the board in one fell swoop.
My fists ball, and I struggle not to slam the windows with my own bare hands and jump out with my wife in my arms. I should … but they’d chase after us, and there’s no running from a car.
I should’ve left with her when I had the chance. After my partner stole Emmy without talking to me about it first, I should’ve acted right away. He must’ve told the president where Natalie was staying. How else would they have known about the location? That … or maybe it was my father.
My teeth grind together. He was the only one who knew what I was doing, where I was … and that she was pregnant.
But how did the president find out she was his daughter?
I didn’t tell a soul. Not even my father or the guy who grabbed Emmy.
None of this makes any sense.
I sigh to myself and gaze out the window.
Natalie is convinced I did all of this, that I persuaded her to come and when she didn’t, her father pulled up to get her anyhow.
How am I going to fix this?
How am I going to make her believe me when all I did was lie?
Trust is hard to win back when you’ve already lost it once …
But I won’t stop.
Not now.
Not ever.
And this bold move by the president to come out here on his own doesn’t make me despair … it makes me all fired up.
She knows the truth now.
She knows what choice she has to make.
And I know she’ll make the right one … for her future … for our baby … for us.
* * *
It takes them hours to get us all back to the community, but the time spent traveling doesn’t quench my rage. I should’ve known not to trust my father every time I spoke to him on the phone. Every sentence uttered was one too many. I’m sure he used every bit of information I told him and played it through to the president. I didn’t tell the partner about my wife being pregnant, so it had to have been my father.
Which means he betrayed me.
I clench my fists as I walk up the stairs of the temple and storm into his room.
“You did this!” I yell.
He’s standing near his window, glaring outside at the people. “Ah, there you are,” he muses, as he turns around. “I was waiting for you.”
Of course he’d be watching for when I’d return so he can gloat on his victory.
“You told him about Natalie, didn’t you?”
He frowns. “About what exactly?”
“Don’t play games with me!” I yell. “He knew about her pregnancy. I didn’t tell a fucking soul. But you knew, you saw the stick.”
He folds his arms behind his back and casually strolls my way. “Don’t swear, Noah, it doesn’t behoove you.”
“I don’t fucking care!” I stomp my hand against the door to close it. “She’s my fucking wife! You had no right!”
“Yes, she is, and had you taken better care of her, we wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.”
My eyes narrow. “I never thought I’d say this to your face, but I always wished you were dead.”
He stops in his tracks, and a smile briefly appears, then fades away. “You wouldn’t be my son if you didn’t.”
What kind of a man says that? No wonder our family is so fucked up.
He pours himself a drink from the table. “Want one too?”
“No, I want answers,” I say through gritted teeth.
He clears his throat, and says, “I’m sorry, but I don’t have them for you.”
My brows furrow. “Stop lying to me.”
He takes a painfully slow sip of his drink, and then says, “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not the one who told President Lawrence
she was pregnant. What reasons could I ever have?”
“To bring them back quicker,” I growl.
He snorts and points at me with his glass. “That was your job.”
“And you inserted yourself into my job, like you always do,” I snap.
“No, I gave you guidance. This was all on you.”
“Then who told the president if it wasn’t you?”
He shrugs. “It’s not my problem, Noah.”
“Yes, it is. Your grandchild is now in danger, thanks to you,” I say, folding my arms.
I can barely contain my anger. I want to lash out, smash his face into the mirror, and make him bleed until the walls are covered in his entrails.
But I can’t do that. The other patriarchs would kill me.
“No thanks to you,” he retorts. “I told you to get her back straight away, but you wouldn’t listen, and the longer it went on, the more in danger she got.”
“She was safe there. I had it under control,” I reply.
“Clearly not,” he says, “since you were both escorted back by the president’s private guards.”
He throws me an unimpressed look. “Your wife was out of order. She fled the community. You know the rules. You’re lucky she’s still alive.”
“She’s his daughter, so of course he’d keep her alive,” I retort. “Actually, I want to know. How did he know she was his daughter?”
He pauses and stares straight at me. “I don’t know.” He raises a brow. “Maybe you should ask her mother?”
My eyes widen. No. She wouldn’t. She’d never …
“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not possible.”
He shrugs. “Women do strange things for their children.”
“No, she wanted to keep Natalie safe,” I snap.
“I think you should be more worried about what this is going to do to your reputation.” His face darkens. “You lied to the president.”
“I didn’t lie,” I retort.
“You omitted the truth. That’s worse than lying. Did you or did you not know she was his daughter when you brought her back from our little trip?”
My nostrils flare.
“Thought so.” He puts down his drink and stares at me in that same judgmental way he always does. “Do you know how hard I’ve fought to keep the president from hanging you?”
Beyond His Control Page 7