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“Those aren’t for hair.”

“These are what the females use.”

“For what, lobotomies? I’m not putting sewing pins in my head.”

He snapped the box closed. “Every female on the farm pins their braids. You can choose the style of braids, but your hair cannot stay loose. It’s a reflection of morals.”

“Well, I didn’t choose to be here, so I guess I’ll just keep my hair nice and loose—like my morals, which, by the way, you took no issue with last night when you were shoving your cock inside of me.”

He stilled and for once, she couldn’t read his expression. Unsure if he wanted to throttle her or kiss her, she backed up.

Shit. She was messing this all up. She was supposed to cooperate and lure him into trusting her. She needed to cut the snark and play nice, but her resentment kept getting in the way.

“Delilah, I want us to understand one another.”

“That would be great. Can we start with why you brought me here and why you’re dressing me up like Amish Barbie?”

“Our kind does not do well with waiting. My circumstances were urgent and there was no use delaying the inevitable.”

Was he talking about the Amish? One would think they’d be incredibly patient, what with having to wait for things to heat over a flame and churning butter and such shit.

She needed to make it believable. Softening her glare, she tried to reason with him. “That’s no excuse for the way you’ve treated me. I’m not an object you can just take. I’m a human being. I have a business to run. People will be looking for me. I have responsibilities.”

“What people?”

“Friends. Clients. I have a life, Christian. I want to go home.”

He looked sad for a moment and then his expression hardened. “You cannot leave. Ever. Your life is here now. This is where you’ll live. I’m sorry if you’re unhappy, but that will fade. The sooner you accept your reality, the faster your heart will heal. God teaches us to forgive even the worst of men. Eventually, you will forgive me—”

“No,” she snapped. His unbending refusal to hear reason infuriated her.

“No?”

Fuck this. If he wouldn’t meet her halfway, she saw no reason to play nice. “I’m not going to just roll over and let you decide my life for me. What you’re doing is against the law. I’ll fight you to my last breath if I have to. And if you force me to stay here, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll hate you with every fiber of my being and make your life a living hell.”

“That’s not an option.”

“Oh really? Do you plan to keep me on drugs? How do you intend to make me stay? You aren’t armed. Will you beat me into submission with your hands? Let’s go, tough guy.” She jumped off the bed, crowding him until he backed up a step. “Bring it.” She poked his shoulder.

“You're getting hostile again.”

“Yeah, turns out lavender oil and bubble baths only go so far when I’m being forced to do things against my will.” Another poke.

“Do not test me, Delilah.”

She got in his face. “You keep saying that, but I think you’re just a full-of-shit hypocrite. Which is it, Christian? Are you a God-fearing man who knows right from wrong, or do you only lean on your faith when it can be weaponized to control others? Huh?” She shoved him, harder this time, and he staggered back. “Which is it? Will you hit a woman? Tie me down so I can’t leave? Torture me until you break my will to run? What’s the big fucking plan?” He’d already gotten physical, but she had no memory of him actually striking her. “Come on, tough guy. Try to stop me.”

He just stood there. Maybe it was that easy. She only had to look her fears directly in the eye and march the fuck out of there.

She scoffed. “Exactly what I thought.” Pivoting, she looked at the door, but Christian was already there. She did a double take, looking back at the empty space where he stood a second ago. “How…?”

“You cannot leave.” He blocked the door.

It was the drugs. It had to be the drugs. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. She blinked and shook her head.

“Look, if you’re afraid I’ll tell someone about what you did, I won’t.” That was a lie. “But only if you let me go right now. I just want to get back to my life. I have a shop to run and friends that will be worried.”

“You can’t survive out there anymore. Things are different now. You must remain here where I can protect you.”

“Protect me from what? Kidnappers? Give me a break. I know about the Amish. No resistance. Forgiveness. And no violence. Get out of my way.”

She pushed him and he grabbed her. Instinctively, she raised her hand to slap him but he caught her wrist in an unbreakable grip. “There is no violence because our values are strong, and we have a devout faith in God. But do not ever mistake me for weak.”

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