Read Online New Title 7 by Emma Clark - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Emma Clark
Tags: Suspense, Psychological, Mystery, BDSM, Crime Fiction, captive, Thriller & Suspense, erotic thriller, kindle ebooks, anti-hero, controversial, Kindle Store
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with getting this nightmare over, I barely heard him.
Fancy burgundy tile surrounded me while I peered at the toilet—dreading to pee for the first time in my life. The box and its contents were scattered across the marble sink. I snatched the pink strip and glanced at the directions.
I peed on the stick. Afterward I put the strip on the sink, waited as my stomach twisted and my limbs quaked. First test window changed to a light pink. Second window darkened.
In the strangest nursery rhyme, Dr. Suess-like laments invaded my mind: Light pink. Dark pink. Pink pink pink. Pretty colors ensued as this little stick casually decided my fate, rudely chose what route my life was going to take.
Pink pink pink pink and a line.
No, wait— two lines. One a deeper red than the other, showing a definite positive result.
Pregnant. I wanted to cry. I wanted to die. Mental voices shrilly reminded me this situation wasn't conducive to raising a healthy child!
I dropped to my knees, didn't realize I was crying till my tears dripped to the floor. Brandon crouched by and held me, rocked me, whispering words of comfort. Telling me everything would be okay.
Would it?
The voices told me no .
10. THE TWENTY-FOURTH DAY
S o he'd planted the seed, or rather fertilized it. This seed would become a child—an actual child complete with DNA, coursing blood and eyes that could mimic the unusual color of Brandon's.
I tried to get used to the idea but couldn't, just couldn't.
I wasn't ready. He wasn't ready. Our unprotected sex caught up, forced me to become a mother too soon. I should've known this would happen as Brandon never used condoms, though he'd used one with Deeana.
Deeana. Poor Deeana.
And Brandon had impregnated me on purpose. Of course he had.
'My father taught me that the most important thing you'll ever do is get married, bring children into this world. Someone to carry on your name. Continue family traditions,' he'd stated from the beginning .
He'd planned it all along, wanted a child before leaving this earth. I couldn't blame him—but this didn't mean I wanted it.
What if it was a girl? Brandon had an obvious lack of respect for females, so how the hell would he treat a little girl ? The possibilities disturbed me.
For the past three nights he slept beside me, making a gallant effort to be there for me.
Weird falling asleep next to him as if we were married or any normal couple.
Normal couple.
He didn't fit well on the narrow mattress and every morning his nude body slung part-way off. Surprising he didn't fall.
Maybe he stayed here to ensure I didn't run away.
Should I run away?
Brandon told me I was five weeks along and the baby was due in February. I counted back the weeks, struggled through my mind fog and concluded he'd impregnated me in the woods. Which was a violent way to start new life, although I'd wanted him to make love to me. I objected to the manner in which he'd done it.
On the other hand—he gave me an orgasm. I must have liked it.
My two lousy choices: Stay or leave. I didn't want to leave but I had a baby to consider.
I'd miss him. Badly, totally. I dreaded the possibility of being away, living without him while raising his baby... a child to remind me every time I gazed upon its face, his or her features reminiscent of Brandon's.
I wouldn't be allowed to forget.
And what if I wanted an abortion?
Tears soaked my pillow while I curled up and imagined the angel enlivened in the nearby snowglobe. Her wings flapped as she glided to freedom.
Six days after endless self-reflection, I chose freedom as well.
I yearned to recapture my power so my baby's future could rest in my hands.
Not Brandon's.
11. THE THIRTIETH DAY
M y decision to leave didn't bring me happiness or peace. Sadness consumed me, spinning my emotions in constant turmoil.
I was only doing this for the baby. Even if ultimately deciding to terminate, I was confident in making the right choice.
Nine days after
Fancy burgundy tile surrounded me while I peered at the toilet—dreading to pee for the first time in my life. The box and its contents were scattered across the marble sink. I snatched the pink strip and glanced at the directions.
I peed on the stick. Afterward I put the strip on the sink, waited as my stomach twisted and my limbs quaked. First test window changed to a light pink. Second window darkened.
In the strangest nursery rhyme, Dr. Suess-like laments invaded my mind: Light pink. Dark pink. Pink pink pink. Pretty colors ensued as this little stick casually decided my fate, rudely chose what route my life was going to take.
Pink pink pink pink and a line.
No, wait— two lines. One a deeper red than the other, showing a definite positive result.
Pregnant. I wanted to cry. I wanted to die. Mental voices shrilly reminded me this situation wasn't conducive to raising a healthy child!
I dropped to my knees, didn't realize I was crying till my tears dripped to the floor. Brandon crouched by and held me, rocked me, whispering words of comfort. Telling me everything would be okay.
Would it?
The voices told me no .
10. THE TWENTY-FOURTH DAY
S o he'd planted the seed, or rather fertilized it. This seed would become a child—an actual child complete with DNA, coursing blood and eyes that could mimic the unusual color of Brandon's.
I tried to get used to the idea but couldn't, just couldn't.
I wasn't ready. He wasn't ready. Our unprotected sex caught up, forced me to become a mother too soon. I should've known this would happen as Brandon never used condoms, though he'd used one with Deeana.
Deeana. Poor Deeana.
And Brandon had impregnated me on purpose. Of course he had.
'My father taught me that the most important thing you'll ever do is get married, bring children into this world. Someone to carry on your name. Continue family traditions,' he'd stated from the beginning .
He'd planned it all along, wanted a child before leaving this earth. I couldn't blame him—but this didn't mean I wanted it.
What if it was a girl? Brandon had an obvious lack of respect for females, so how the hell would he treat a little girl ? The possibilities disturbed me.
For the past three nights he slept beside me, making a gallant effort to be there for me.
Weird falling asleep next to him as if we were married or any normal couple.
Normal couple.
He didn't fit well on the narrow mattress and every morning his nude body slung part-way off. Surprising he didn't fall.
Maybe he stayed here to ensure I didn't run away.
Should I run away?
Brandon told me I was five weeks along and the baby was due in February. I counted back the weeks, struggled through my mind fog and concluded he'd impregnated me in the woods. Which was a violent way to start new life, although I'd wanted him to make love to me. I objected to the manner in which he'd done it.
On the other hand—he gave me an orgasm. I must have liked it.
My two lousy choices: Stay or leave. I didn't want to leave but I had a baby to consider.
I'd miss him. Badly, totally. I dreaded the possibility of being away, living without him while raising his baby... a child to remind me every time I gazed upon its face, his or her features reminiscent of Brandon's.
I wouldn't be allowed to forget.
And what if I wanted an abortion?
Tears soaked my pillow while I curled up and imagined the angel enlivened in the nearby snowglobe. Her wings flapped as she glided to freedom.
Six days after endless self-reflection, I chose freedom as well.
I yearned to recapture my power so my baby's future could rest in my hands.
Not Brandon's.
11. THE THIRTIETH DAY
M y decision to leave didn't bring me happiness or peace. Sadness consumed me, spinning my emotions in constant turmoil.
I was only doing this for the baby. Even if ultimately deciding to terminate, I was confident in making the right choice.
Nine days after
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