When she reached the gravel, her heart was already beating in her throat. Then Reese ran. The tree line looked close in the falling dark. She ran across the clearing, her breath coming fast, her shoes slipping on the gravel. Behind her, Wade dropped the wood he’d been carrying.
“Reese,” he growled.
She ran harder.
His heavy boots hit the gravel fast behind her. The sound erased everything else. Reese aimed for the dark gap between two pines, but the ground dipped where she did not expect it. Her foot landed badly. She lost her balance, fell forward, and landed on all fours. Pain shot through her palms and knees.
She pushed herself up as fast as she could. Dirt stuck to her skin. The baby shifted in her belly, and fear hit her so hard she almoststopped. But she didn’t. She made it three more steps before Wade caught the back of her hoodie.
The fabric jerked tight at her throat.
Reese grabbed at the collar with both hands, choking. Wade yanked her backward. She stumbled into him. His arm locked around her middle before she could twist away.
“Look what you did,” he said.
She tried to kick back, but he dragged her off balance and turned her toward the cabin. Her shoes scraped over the gravel. She dug in once, hard, and he pulled until pain flashed through her shoulder.
“You fell because you ran into the dark,” Wade said. His voice had gone low and cold. “You could have hurt the baby.”
Reese stopped fighting, guilt sharp in her chest. He hauled her across the clearing, up the steps, and through the front door. Inside, he kicked the door shut behind them and locked it with the key.
He then shoved her toward the couch. She caught herself against the arm and sat before he could push harder.
“Stay there.”
Wade crossed the room and disappeared into the hallway. A cabinet opened. Something shifted inside it. Reese looked at the door, then at the fireplace tools, but her legs were shaking too badly to carry her anywhere. Wade came back with a coil of thin rope in one hand.
“No,” Reese said.
“Hands.”
She held them against her belly.
His jaw tightened. “Give me your hands, Reese.”
She looked at the rope, then at his face. The least dangerous choice was the one that kept him from putting his hands on her again. Slowly, she held out her wrists. Wade crouched in front of her and tied them together. Reese pulled at the rope, but it tightened around her wrists when she did.
“Now you’re going to listen,” Wade said, hands on either side of her hips. His face was inches from hers.
She held her bound hands against her stomach.
“I’m doing this because you keep making choices that put my child at risk.”
Reese stared at him.
“If I have to keep you here until the baby comes, I will.” His voice stayed low and even.
The cabin was getting colder, but Reese felt sweat gather under her hair.
“You don’t get to take my child from me,” Wade said. “You don’t get to run off, hide, and decide I don’t matter.”
She cupped the curve of her belly with one hand, the rope tight on her wrists.
“You need to understand something right now.” He leaned closer, close enough that she could feel his hot breath on her face. “If you try to take my child from me again, it will be the last thing you do.” He said it like it was a simple fact.
And Reese believed him. Wade stayed close for another moment, watching her face.
Then he stood and went to the door. “I’m getting the wood.”
