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There’s a little speck in my uterus that is going to grow into a human baby.
And it’s his.
Oh my god.
This cannot be happening.
A knot forms in my throat. There’s a heaviness in my chest, and a sadness that permeates the air around me as I try to grapple with this awful reality.
If this is true, I’ll be tied to Calvin for the rest of my life. There will truly be no way of escaping him, and with the resources he has…
My god, he can make my life an absolute hellscape. He’ll be able to control my every move. He has already shown how ruthless he can be, so there’s every reason to suspect he would view a child together as leverage he can use to bend me to his will.
And he’ll be right. I’ll be utterly defenseless. His prisoner in the truest sense.
His pet.
For as long as he wants me to be, which was already the case with the blackmail, but now he’ll have power over me even after that.
What will happen to me when I’m no longer what he wants?
A normal man might leave, but a man with his resources and controlling disposition…
My god.
“I don’t want this,” I say softly. “I can’t…”
“It’ll be okay,” he says, his voice firm and reassuring as he wraps his strong arms around me. He doesn’t know all the horrible thoughts going through my head, my fears about my fate if it’s irrevocably tied to him.
I don’t want his comfort, but I take it anyway. I let him guide me back to the bedroom. I climb into bed and let him hold me.
He probably thinks his strong arms around me symbolize support, but to me they might as well be steel bars.
Chapter Thirty Six
Calvin
I didn’t get her pregnant on purpose.
Right?
I probably did. I was pretty adamant about not using condoms with her, and I’ve never been one to have risky sex with random women.
Hallie isn’t random, though. She’s the girl in the red dress whose smile burrowed into my brain and stayed there, the rare spark amid absolute boredom.
And the woman who continues to think she’ll eventually get away from me, which is a bit maddening.
Every single time it comes up, the way she talks about us is so temporary.
It’s her own fault, really. I keep warning her that the limit does not exist when the question is, “What will I do to get what I want?” but she doesn’t seem to be getting it.
Murder, maiming, the creation of human life—whatever it takes to ensure she’s mine.
Besides, I’m eager to see what a little half-me, half-Hallie being will be like. It’s the scientist in me, I suppose.
Hallie isn’t there yet. She hasn’t accepted it as I have, but then I guess I’ve given it more thought. Did I peruse her phone calendar and make mental notes about her cycle? Sure. Did I make sure I fucked her more than once when science indicated she was due to be ovulating? Possibly.
But I’m not God; I can’t know her lovely body is so fertile that the first time I fuck her when she’s ovulating, she’ll get pregnant.
