by V. K. Ludwig
Silence surrounded us for a long while, and I did nothing about it. I let her sob and sniff back her snot. In fact, it gave me a weird kind of satisfaction, triggering the unthinkable in me.
“What kind of mother doesn’t stay with her child, anyway?” I said in a low tone dripping with malice.
I regretted my words the moment they left me, but I couldn’t keep my lips from moving. They just chattered on, coming down like kicks on someone who was already on the ground. Literally. “Placing her in danger like that. Maybe it’s a good thing we never had a child because I don’t think you’re cut out for motherhood.”
She shot up quicker than she had dropped to her knees, rising in the corner of my eyes like an ambush. Her lips had retreated inside her mouth, the edges of it losing silent curses. Until she opened them again, that is, unleashing hell.
“You are not her father and never will be,” she said, preparing for a punch way below the waist. “And we never had a child because you weren’t man enough to give me one!”
Ouch! It wasn’t the first time I heard someone say that. Mostly, I had told it to myself. Coming from her, it ripped out my innards and pushed them down my throat. She must have thought that many times — now she had said it.
“That’s not exactly news,” I said as if it didn’t hurt. In reality, it tore my heart into shreds. “But guess what. I might not be her biological dad, but I am still your husband. And what does that make me, babe?”
My words made her give a jolt. Move. Sway restless from one side to the other. All color sucked from her face, making her green eyes the only thing alive.
“She’s not yours,” she stammered, her voice drowned in those tears she bit back.
“She was born inside our marriage, regardless of where she comes from.” I took the step off the pedestal and leaned into her. “The law says I am her father, and I have as much right to her as you do. Rose stays with me.”
“Such a law never existed!”
“Well, it does now because I made sure of it!”
She flung her hands up, stretched her palms and folded them, clueless as to where she might put them. They dropped by her sides once more, a stomp of her foot echoing through the longhouse.
“You’re an asshole!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.
“People have called me worse things. I’d rather be an asshole than a fucking District broodmare.”
“What did you just call me?”
Yeah! What did I just call her?
My stomach knotted up, making everything around it convulse in unrelenting waves of immediate remorse. I had burnt down a bridge even I knew wouldn’t be rebuilt. And for what? Ten minutes of pure bliss because I could finally hurt her the way she hurt me?
Fuck it! She deserves this. She deserves all of this.
“I want my daughter back!” She punched her fists into my chest like an endless hail. Left. Right. Left. Right. “Give me my daughter back! I want to see her now! Where is Rose?”
I grabbed her wrists and squeezed them. “Hit me all you want, but it won’t change a thing. You took everything from me. Everything.” Droplets of spit went in all directions, but I didn’t care. I lowered myself down a little and stepped close to her. My lips inches from hers. My body less than a heave away from her breasts. “I won’t let you take her from me.”
Her body now shook and trembled. She let her eyes dart back and forth between mine and my lips, sending a prickly sensation down my spine and deep into my pelvis. She licked them, her lips that was, and for a moment she might have thought about kissing me. Or maybe not, because she sent a huge blob of spit straight against my cheek.
Darya pulled her wrists from my hands and left, slamming the door shut behind her with whatever fury she had bottled up inside her. I didn’t know if this was well-played revenge or a magnificent victory. Not that it mattered. Either way, it tasted like shit.
Chapter 10
5 minutes earlier…
Darya
“I won’t let you take her from me.”
The strength in Rowan’s voice sent electrical shocks down my spine, covering me in unchecked shivers. He was still way too much man for one woman to handle. In the past, it made my panties drop. But now? Now it kept me away from my daughter.
He had his hands wrapped around my wrists. The popped veins of what I could see of his underarms told me he wanted to squeeze them. Squeeze them hard. But he held back, his grip almost caressing my skin.
My eyes flicked between his hateful stare and trembling lips. Did he know they trembled? It didn’t matter. He called me a broodmare. I wasn’t one of them! I was still a clanswoman for fuck’s sake. But what’s even worse, he had called me a bad mother. His words still stung somewhere deep inside me. Leaving me open. Wounded.
I pulled up whatever snot I had left at the back of my throat, formed it into a nice gooey ball, and spit it right at him. With a quick wiggle, I freed my wrists from his palms and walked out on him. Nobody would keep me from my daughter. Not the Districts. And most definitely not my so-called husband.
The moment I pushed the door of the longhouse open, the guards peeled their ears off it and scrambled away. None of them looked at me or said a word. Villagers halted the going about their day, each one of them staring at me from curious, surprised or even angry faces.
A man stopped his wood-splitting and pointed his ax at me. “Traitor!”
What did he just call me?
I shrugged it off and kept on going, weaving myself through mud homes and sheet metal stores. The fire pit roasted some rabbits on a spike like every winter.
“She doesn’t belong here,” a woman mumbled to another, not even trying to conceal the hate in her eyes. “Accused us of killing the chieftain’s daughter.”
His daughter? Traitor? I pushed my feet into haste, my heart pounding against the back of my throat.
I have to get away from these people. I have to get Rose!
I made my way up the narrow trample path like I had so many times in my life until I reached our cabin. Rowan’s cabin. My heart dropped into my stomach at the sight.
The logs had darkened over the year, turning it less inviting, as if the love had been swept from it. Rose had to be in there somewhere. My steps turned frantic. Uncoordinated. Meeting her babysitter didn’t sit well with me, especially since it must have been Autumn.
I could have shoved on the windows. Could have wiggled the doorknobs. Instead, I went straight to the tin roof over the well and lifted one shingle.
Bingo!
The spare key was where it had been for the last six years. Just another proof why husband’s should listen to their wives. How many times did I tell him to rotate the hiding spot?
Slowly and carefully, I pushed the teeth into the lock and… click. The door fell open like on freshly oiled hinges, letting out a whiff of jerky, musk and seasoned wood.
I stepped right in and closed the door behind me, my eyes falling to the baby bottles which stood upside down on the kitchen counter. Nipples, arranged in rows of two, lay on a blue kitchen towel.
The cabin was quiet, the air still. Wherever Rose was, it wasn’t here. It was just me now, trapped between wooden logs and a bunch of painfully good memories. I should have known she wouldn’t be here, but heaviness dropped onto my shoulders, nonetheless.
Okay, calm down. She might be with someone else, but I’m sure he will bring her back home with him. All I have to do is wait.
I took a stroll through the cabin.
While our old home had seemed darker from the outside, everything in here was brighter than it ever had.
A handful of wooden building blocks lay scattered across the floor, right next to an off-white blanket with a stag embroidered on it. They had plugged the baby swing beside it into a battery pack, the mobile above missing one of the plush farm animals.
I kneeled down and placed my head onto the blanket.
Yes. That was it.
Sweet like honey and with a hi
nt of baby-powder to it, the scent of Rose made tears well up at the back of my eyes once more. A well-known sensation climbed into my breasts, like a million needles poking the area around my nipples and areola. A few weeks ago, the smell of Rose would have caused my milk to flow. I gazed down at my shirt, hoping for small, wet stains. Nothing. That I had dried up added ten pounds to whatever pushed my shoulders down.
I stood back up and walked along the hallway. The door to our old room stood ajar, the small gap so thin and sharp, I worried I might cut myself if I came too close. The sounds of my breathing and the far-away creaks of the wooden boards faded into sub-conscience. And sure enough, I allowed myself a peek, a knife-edged pain stabbing me right in the guts.
Tied to his bed stood her crib.
“How the fuck did you open the door?”
His low baritone made me swing around with such force, I lost balance and stumbled back against the doorframe. There on his hip sat Rose, creasing his shirt inside her fist and burying her face against Rowan’s strong chest.
My knees buckled underneath each of my steps as if someone might pull the floor out from beneath me at any moment now. Dark green and adorned with a single white shell, her headband framed those light-brown wisps of hair.
I wanted to reach out for her. Wanted to pull her from him. She was so close now. Just inches away.
Damn it, I can’t breathe.
The urge to rip my child from him was strong, but something else was stronger. I hesitated.
He and Rose painted a picture of the only thing I ever wished for. A dream come true! My husband, tall and strong, carrying our child around with pride and love. Except, this wasn’t his child. And he was barely my husband. A perfect picture of a fucking nightmare.
“I asked you a question.” Rowan took a step back, taking Rose out of my reach again. It was less than a foot, but it felt like miles, making anger sweep over me like hot, burning waves.
“I took the spare key you idiot,” I snarled. “It’s not like you gave me another choice. Give me my baby back!”
With no hesitation, I slung one arm around Rose and supported her bottom with the other. Then I pulled. And pulled. And pulled some more. The more I pulled, the harder she screamed, driving shards through my heart.
I looked up at Rowan, the edges of my vision a dazzled, wet mess. “She won’t let go.”
“Tell me about it,” he scoffed.
“Maybe if you gave her to me…” the plea was palpable in my voice, tasting pitiful and desperate.
“Listen, this won’t work,” he said, bouncing her on his hip. “She’s been very clingy lately and getting her off me has been nothing but drama. Besides… she doesn’t know you, Darya. She hasn’t seen you in over two months, and now you expect her to be okay with you?”
The room cooled by several degrees. He was right. Rose didn’t recognize me at all. Weeks of separation had turned us into strangers.
I leaned against the wall and let my body sink to the floor. “You should have left me behind.”
He shoved Rose around on his hip in an attempt to reposition her. Little grunts came from her wrinkled face, threatening a meltdown if anybody, including him, as much as tried to take her from his arms.
“I didn’t make that call. Autumn and Max insisted on getting you out.”
His words stung worse than a paper-cut on the nail-bed. He wasn’t the one who came for me. Why should he have? Everything he had I took. And now I went for the rest.
“Why did you do it?” I asked after a while.
“Do what?”
“Cut your hair.”
He took a deep breath and sat down against the opposite wall, letting Rose kick her little feet against his thighs.
“You know I hated wearing my long hair open. Cutting it off seemed like a good idea. There was nobody around to braid it for me after…”
“After I left,” I finished his sentence.
We both sat in the hallway in silence, watching how Rose drifted off to sleep. After a while, he carefully got up and nodded toward the bedroom door. He slowly placed her into her crib where she startled for a second, but quickly fell back to sleep.
I stood there for a few minutes, feeling the warmth of Rowan’s presence right behind me. Each of us observed the gentle rise and fall of Rose’s chest and the way she held her clenched fists to each side of her head.
“I’m sorry you lost men because of me,” I mumbled into the room, too distraught to look at him. “Didn’t think you would keep the search up for such a long time.”
“It wasn’t that long. Few weeks perhaps.”
I glanced over my shoulder but avoided his gaze. “Your sister said you were still searching when she came to the Districts.”
“She said that, huh?” He scratched his hand through his beard and forced out a sad chuckle. “Nah. I called it off after a month. Could’ve been two. Definitely no more than three.”
His body inched away from me, not wanting to stay but not leaving either. The warmth emanating from him wrapped me in a blanket of safety and protection. The same safety and protection he had given to Rose, no matter how heartbreaking it must have been for him.
I turned around. “Rowan, there’s —”
I sucked in a breath, pulling whatever I wanted to say right back down. There in front of me stood the man I loved. The man I never thought I’d see again. His eyes deepened with agony. Because he had to look at the woman who broke his heart. Twice. No, wait. Three times.
Once when she left.
The second time when he found out what she had done.
The third time when others made him rescue her.
“You were saying?” His body leaned toward me, chipping away on the inches between us. He reluctantly picked up his hand and reached out for my cheek, making my heart pound against the back of my throat.
Rowan was all man. Rough where I was soft. Towering where I was insignificant. Strong where I was weak. Of course, he was through with me. He had to be. So why did something inside of me still hope?
His hand dropped back to his side. It wormed its way into his pocket. But my cheek felt the weight and warmth of his palm as if he had gone through with it.
The moment he turned away from me, my hand darted for his arm. “I want you to know that I am sorry for what I did to you. And that I will be eternally grateful for what you did for Rose. The way you took care of her… the toys… the crib…” My voice broke off, overwhelmed by the many unspoken words between us.
He didn’t look at me but stared at where my palm lay on his arm. My hand shook. Or maybe his arm shook. I couldn’t tell.
I led his arm toward my chest and placed the palm of his hand right atop where my heart pounded against my sternum. Could he feel it? The rushing of blood sounded in my ears.
Fast and determined, he pulled his hand out of his pocket and cupped my cheek. He took a step toward me, pushing his hard chest against my breasts. I rose onto my toes. Stretched myself taller. The ground underneath me gave away, but I didn’t care. He would catch me if I fell. Like he had always done it. He was so close now, his breath caressing my lips.
“Is this a fucking trick?”
I fell back onto my heels. “What?”
“Did you think I would give her up that easily?” He ripped his hand off my cheek and slowly circled around me. “That all it takes is for you to wiggle your ass to get what you want?”
“What? This isn’t a trick, Rowan. I just wanted to tell you —”
“Yeah, that you’re sorry.” He shook his head and raked his hands through his hair. “Too bad you’re a year too late because I have literally zero fucks left to give.” He pointed at Rose, who didn’t seem bothered at all by the emotional swing. “She stays right here. With me. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”
My entire body tensed up, but I wouldn’t back down. “Oh yeah?”
In the fraction of a second, he towered over me. “Yeah! You can save your dirty tricks because t
hey ain’t gonna work on me, baby. Did you really think I would kiss you?”
His question made a wave of heat sweep over me. Not sure if it was fury or shame because, fuck, yeah I might have hoped. A little.
“If you want to play daddy, get yourself a doll,” I snarled. “You are not her father, but I will always be her mother.”
“She is my daughter by law, remember?” He said it with a smile on his face that reminded me of the butcher’s dog. “You wanted me to bring law to this Clan, and I did. This law kept men from killing their bastard infants. You’re welcome.”
My eyes darted to the crib, a stream of adrenaline flowing through my body. No. I would never make it out of here with Rose. And if I did, we would die within a day or two.
“Well, she is my daughter by law as well, and… and…” My voice trailed off, my brain crumbling away from the worst of my bad ideas. “And I am the wife of the chieftain, or so they told me.”
“What are you talking about, woman?”
“You never divorced me,” I said and flung my hands onto my hips just like he had done it. “That makes me the wife of chieftain Rowan. This is where I live, together with our daughter.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute.” He held both his palms up, his brows almost touching his hairline. “You sure as hell won’t live here in my cabin.”
“Our cabin. Remember? We’re married!”
He paced back and forth between the crib and me, mumbling one curse after another into his beard. Every now and then he stopped and pointed his finger at me as if he was about to say something, but the words never came, and the pacing continued.
“This won’t change anything,” he barked at me.
“Uh-huh.”
“I will call in the entire village and have a vote on it,” he said. “They can decide who should take care of Rose. You, or —”
“Or the guy who isn’t her biological father? Which reminds me… do they know? Because it sure as hell didn’t sound like it on my way here. Apparently, she is your daughter, and I am just a fucking traitor. What happens if they find out, Rowan?”