Beyond His Control

by Wild, Clarissa

  All I can do now is go back into my room and wait.

  Wait and pray … that he’ll listen to her.

  And that she’ll save me from being hanged.

  * * *

  Natalie

  When someone finally knocks on my door, I’m practically jumping to get out. I’m still a prisoner here, and anything is better than being stuck in this room like a caged animal.

  Agatha enters, and says, “The president would like to see you now.”

  I take a quick glance at myself in the mirror. I grabbed a dress from the closet and put it on. Is it ridiculous to look nice for these people? Yes. Am I a lunatic for obeying their rules? Yes. But it all has a purpose. I have a role to play … and that’s one of a loving daughter and wife. A faithful servant of God. A woman who will gain the trust of her father so she can change the course of this community for the better … and stab him in the back later.

  That’s what I’ve decided.

  It’s my time to play the game Noah intended me to play.

  So I smile at Agatha, and ask, “Am I presentable?”

  She nods. “You look good, matriarch.” She steps forward and grabs my hand, pressing a kiss on top. “Very good.”

  I feel unease as she releases me. Is this what they always do to matriarchs?

  “Follow me, please,” she says, and she walks outside.

  I traipse behind her, past the guards, whom I’m almost tempted to flip the finger at, but that probably won’t help me in the long run, so I don’t.

  Instead, I throw them a single glance, one that speaks volumes and says all the words I’m forbidden from speaking out loud to the men.

  We walk downstairs and go straight into the hallway behind it. There are giant doors in the back that open once we arrive. My jaw practically drops when the hall I walk into beyond that could host hundreds of people. It’s like a big auditorium, but instead of people getting lectures, there are loads of empty seats lined next to a yellow rug that stretches all the way to a big door at the end. On the other end of the rug, near the wall, is a bigger seat that has hand-carved embellishments and resembles a throne. And on top of it … sits President Lawrence.

  My father.

  I swallow down the lump in my throat as Agatha steps aside and beckons me to go inside.

  One step. Two steps. My knees begin to quiver, so I straighten my back. My fingers start to tremble, so I turn them into fists and continue my pace.

  Showing weakness in front of this man is like showing your wounds to a wolf; he’d bite your head off.

  His face doesn’t look any less menacing as I step forward onto the rug. I stand before him with my hands firmly by my side and my head held high. The number of times I’ve seen him and talked to him can be counted on one hand, and never one on one like this. When his eyes home in on mine, I stop breathing for a few seconds.

  “So …” He clears his throat. The pause seems to last ages, and it makes the sweat pool in the small of my back. “I heard you paid your mother a visit.”

  I swallow. He sees and hears everything. His staff are loyal to him, not the other patriarchs, so lying is of no use to me. Instead of trying to weave my way through this mess, I’m going to come clean. Maybe a fresh start would convince him of my usefulness.

  “Yes,” I reply. “I didn’t know she was still alive, so when I found out, I had to see her.”

  “And? Did you like what you see?” he asks, scratching his face. “Did you take a good look at the scars and the pain she suffered thanks to the fire?” He clutches the chair. “So that you could escape?”

  My throat tightens as though he has his hands wrapped around my neck right this moment.

  “I …” My eyes falter. I can’t look at him. Not when we both know I caused all of her pain.

  “You know exactly what you did when you escaped. And for what reason, exactly?” he spits. “Did you hate it here that much?”

  I don’t reply. I don’t know what to say without making him hate me even more.

  “You’re my daughter. If you’d only told me …” His voice sounds as though he’s lamenting on our lost time together. “You’re both the same. You and your mother,” he growls, forming a fist with his hand. “If only I hadn’t picked that woman to be my wife.”

  “I’m glad you did. She’s the best mother a girl could ever wish for,” I reply in a moment of courage.

  “Hmm … you really think so?” he says, tilting his head.

  This sounds like a test, like there is no right answer to any of this. “I wish I could’ve grown up with a mother like her. That I could’ve been there.”

  He looks at me. The wait seems eternal, and sweat has started to drip down my back.

  A smile appears. “I wished for the same thing.”

  I smile back.

  “But, unfortunately, that’s not how things went, and we can’t change the past.” He clears his throat. “However …”

  The pause that follows makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “I’d like to know how you managed to escape at such a young age.” He leans forward in his throne-like chair. “Surely, you must’ve had help?”

  I swallow hard. “I don’t remember. The details are hazy.”

  It’s no lie. I didn’t remember, for the most part, though Noah brought back some of the memories that lingered in the back of my mind. But he doesn’t need to know that part.

  “You sure you don’t remember anything?” he emphasizes.

  “No,” I say. “Otherwise, I would’ve tried to find this Family a long time ago.”

  Another wretched smile forms on his lips, which dissipates quickly. “Yet you escaped … twice.”

  I suck on my bottom lip. “Because I needed to say goodbye to my former life one last time.”

  Good one, Natalie.

  “If you’d told me sooner you were my daughter, maybe I could’ve arranged such a thing without you going through all that hassle and putting a strain on our guards to go and find you. Hmm?” He leans back in his chair.

  “I didn’t know I was your daughter until my mother told me on the day she set fire to the hut.”

  His eyes twitch. “Interesting …” He licks his lips. “So you didn’t know you were born here?”

  I shake my head.

  “But your mother knew?”

  I don’t want to throw her under the bus, but I guess it’s too late now.

  “She only realized after I showed her the scarf,” I lie.

  “What scarf?”

  “The scarf she gave me before I … first escaped.”

  “So you do remember something,” he says.

  Shit. Shit, shit.

  “No, no, I …” I mutter, feeling the heat rise under me. “I just had it on me as a child. I don’t remember anything else, just that I always had this scarf which carried the symbol of the Family.”

  His eyes narrow. I wonder if he believes my story. I hope so.

  “Let me see the scarf.”

  “I don’t have it,” I reply. “It’s in the hut that I was made to leave after … marrying Noah.”

  “I’ll have it fetched then,” he says, and he snaps his fingers.

  Immediately, an elder comes forward from the shadows. I hadn’t even noticed him.

  The president whispers into the man’s ear, who then immediately walks off.

  Probably to pay a visit to Holly, April, and Emmy … if they’re even there. In fact, I’m starting to wonder if Emmy ever returned to this community. How do we know the helper Noah brought along didn’t just take her away so they could disappear? And if he did bring her back, where is she now? And is she unharmed?

  “I’d like to know where my friend is,” I ask in a bold moment of courage.

  “Oh … so you have wishes now,” he jests.

  “I wouldn’t ask otherwise, but she was with me on the outside, and she was whisked away by one of the helpers, and I don’t know—”

  He raises his hand. “I
know. She’s been taken care of.”

  Been taken care of?

  A cold shiver runs up and down my spine.

  “Is she … dead? Did that man kill her?” The question makes me want to vomit.

  He frowns and cocks his head. “Oh, my sweet, sweet child … are you really that oblivious?” He’s mocking me. “I wouldn’t allow Noah off this property without someone to accompany him.”

  So the president sent that man to grab Emmy?

  He claps his hands. The big door on the other end of the room opens up to a panoramic view of the Holy Land. In walks a man … the same man who I saw the day Emmy was taken.

  My eyes widen, and I stop breathing for a second.

  She’s right behind him.

  “Emmy,” I whisper, tears staining my eyes.

  She survived.

  Chapter 13

  Natalie

  My heart swells as they come closer, and I completely ignore the man who took her in favor of looking at her.

  But there’s a mark on her face.

  Several, in fact, all dark and red, just like the ones my mother had.

  “I’m sorry,” I mouth as she passes me.

  She only blinks at me a couple of times.

  I know she can’t talk, she’s not allowed, and if she dared … that man would probably hurt her more when they get back to their hut. Rage fills my veins, and I make a fist as I glare at the guy. I wish I could wrap my hands around his throat and choke him to death.

  “Sit,” my father says, and Emmy and the man immediately sit down on two chairs in the front.

  The man grabs Emmy’s gloved hand and squeezes it tight. She winces, clearly in pain.

  “I hope you know why you’re here,” the president says.

  “Yes, thank you so much, president, for allowing me to bring her back,” the man replies. “I owe you my gratitude.”

  “God brought you back your wife. Be thankful to him,” the President says.

  Wife?

  A gasp slips out, but I quickly cover my mouth with my hand.

  “Of course,” the man responds, and he bows his head. “Our God is generous and kind.”

  “That he is,” the president mumbles. “Unlike my daughter who managed to steal your wife away from you.” My father turns his attention toward me. “See what you have done? You’ve caused this family great pain.”

  “I didn’t …” I mutter. “I didn’t even know she was married.”

  I gaze at Emmy, who can’t even look me in the eyes. When did it happen? One moment, we were together in the hut, and then the next, she wanted to escape with me over the fence.

  Was she already married by then? Is that why she was so determined to run away with me? Because of him?

  “It’s irrelevant,” the president growls. “Do you understand what your actions have caused?”

  I rub my lips together in an effort to contain my anger. I know they’re watching and listening. All around me are cameras. Nowhere is safe.

  “I understand,” I reply, and I glance at Emmy. Her eyes are full of terror.

  As though she’s afraid I’m going to tell on her … that I’ll push her to the brink of destruction.

  “It was my idea,” I blurt out.

  I don’t know why I do, but I can’t stop myself.

  “She didn’t wanna come with me. I dragged her.”

  Everyone looks at me; the silence is deafening. I quickly glance at Emmy. She’s gently shaking her head, but I ignore her.

  “You forced her?” the president asks.

  I nod.

  “Why?” he asks.

  I clear my throat, thinking of a quick response. “Because I didn’t want to be alone.”

  His nostrils flare. Another pause follows. “Do you know the pain she has had to endure because of you?”

  “I apologize.”

  “You should feel sorry,” he says. “Your actions affect everyone around you. Apparently, your time outside has made you forget that simple fact. But you will learn your place here,” he grumbles.

  I lower my eyes. I’m probably going to get punished now, but it’s worth it if it means I can keep Emmy out of further trouble, as long as that man she’s with believes my story.

  A quick glance in her direction tells me all I need to know because tears have welled up in her eyes and she mouths a, “Thank you,” in my direction.

  I gently nod.

  “Furthermore,” the president continues. “Do you know how dangerous it was for you to go out there on your own? Pregnant? Without the aid of a man?”

  “I—”

  “Silence!” His voice echoes through the room. “Listen to my words and don’t interrupt me.”

  Wow. No wonder Noah hates him.

  “You should’ve known better than to endanger your child,” he growls. “For that alone, I should have you punished.”

  Tears well up in my eyes, and in a moment of sheer panic, I lunge to my knees in front of him, hands locked, fingers entwined above my head. “Please, don’t put me in the suffering hut. Please, have mercy.”

  He doesn’t say a word.

  “Please, I beg you. I have endured so much. I just want this baby to be safe.”

  I blink away the tears, hoping he’ll see my plea as honest and truthful even though my heart is filled with so much hatred that I could burn this entire temple down along with all the people in it.

  Now I know why my mother did what she did. What pushed her to the brink of insanity.

  Anyone would go to those lengths to spare their daughter from the wrath of this man sitting on this throne in front of me.

  “Hmm,” he murmurs.

  I look up into his eyes. “Please … Father. Have mercy on your only daughter.”

  The word father brings a foul taste to my mouth, and it makes me want to rinse it out with soap.

  I know Emmy’s watching me, and that she’s probably judging me right now. She knows who I am, where I came from, and she knows I would never see a man like him as my father.

  But she must realize my predicament, right? I can only hope she won’t tell a soul about the real me … and that she’ll do the same for me as I did for her.

  “It seems you’ve learned to embrace humility as part of our community,” the president says after a while.

  “Yes, Father. I understand my mistake now,” I say, nodding while trying to ignore the obvious gawking coming from Emmy’s direction. “I promise you, I won’t ever try to do something like that again.”

  I’m lying through my teeth.

  I would give anything to escape again, even my own kidney, but that won’t save me now.

  “No, you won’t,” he says. “In fact, I presume Noah had something to do with your scheme, so he will be punished as well.”

  My eyes widen. “What? No. He fought hard to keep me here.”

  He raises his brow. “Is that why he took so long to bring you back? Why I had to jump in and get you myself?”

  I swallow away the lump in my throat. I have two choices … rat him out and try to make it out again … or save him like he saved my mother. He hated her guts, yet he pulled her from the fire and got hurt himself.

  The choice is simple.

  “I was the one who kept him from taking me back,” I say, clutching my hand near my chest. “I was confused … because of my pregnancy.”

  The president glares at me as though he expects a better answer.

  “Please, don’t hurt him. He tried his best to get me back safely,” I add.

  His Adam’s apple moves up and down. “You do realize I know that he knew you were my daughter, right?”

  I break out into sweat.

  “He purposely kept information from me,” he says. “That alone is punishable with death.”

  Even Emmy gasps now.

  “He only kept it secret to protect me. Because I didn’t remember my past, he wanted to introduce me to it slowly, so I wouldn’t panic,” I explain. “And it worked. I fell in love w
ith him.”

  When I say those words, Emmy looks at me in shock.

  “I became his, and we made a child, together. He planned to tell you right after, but then …”

  “You ran,” he fills in for me.

  “Don’t let your grandchild grow up without a father,” I say, shaking my head. “No one deserves that.”

  He mulls it over for a second. “You’re just like your mother.”

  I don’t know what that means … or whether it’s even good or not.

  He sucks in a breath and stands. “Very well. You’ve convinced me.”

  A sigh of relief escapes my mouth.

  “But …”

  Too soon.

  “My grandchild belongs here, in this community as part of a loving Family,” he says, his eyes narrowing. “You will not leave this property ever again. Should you try, you’ll have the blood of your husband and your child on your hands, do you understand?”

  I gulp, then nod. It’s a definite threat. One I’m sure he’d make happen if push ever came to shove.

  He smiles and sits down again, tapping his fingers together. “Good. Then we’re done here.”

  * * *

  Noah

  When someone finally knocks on my door, I immediately open it, hoping it’ll be my salvation from being locked away in a room. “Yes?”

  “The president wants to have a word,” the elder says.

  I follow him as he traipses downstairs and toward the wing underneath the staircase, where we go into his auditorium. This room is usually only used for occasions when we’d need to speak to the crowd of people and invite them inside to take a seat, but that’s a rare occurrence. Why would he bring me here? Unless … he means to put me on the block in front of everyone to make an example out of me.

  But as I walk through the big doors in the back, Natalie passes me, and we look each other in the eye without saying a word. One simple glance says more than a thousand words ever can.

  The president wanted a word with her too. I wonder what he had to say … and if she ratted me out to save herself.

  I won’t blame her if she did. It’d be the safest option for her. She’d survive. Our child would live. But I would perish, and she knows.

  I can only hope she said what she needed to say.