Page 63 of Knocked-Up Bratva Prisoner

I don’t mean to be so nasty to her. The last thing I want to do is hurt her in any way.

I take another deep breath and realize I am still gripping her arm tightly. I let go, flexing my hand open and closed.

“You didn’t even tell me you were going."

“You were still asleep. I was just walking around a little bit—I didn’t even go far.” She is defensive. I don’t blame her with the way I am speaking to her. She looks scared of me. I clench my jaw in agitation. My anger often gets the better of me, but I don’t want to be that way with her.

I shake my head.

I need to calm down.

Take a few deep breaths. Close your eyes. Count to ten. Do whatever you have to do.

Then suddenly, it hits me.

This is exactly what I did to her.

I left her in the house without waking her up and I went to work that day, and this is the kind of panic she felt, thinking I was never coming back again.

Rubbing my hands over my face, I sigh.

“Clara, I’m sorry—I just—"

“It doesn’t matter. I want to go back now, please. I’m done here.” She has her arms wrapped around herself, a defensive posture, protecting herself from my anger.

“We can still—" I stammer.

“No, please take me back.” She tilts the bowl of berries out onto the forest floor. “I’m sure the birds and insects will eat those.”

She wipes the back of her hand across her cheek to brush away the tears, and I feel immense guilt for the way I treated her.

I understand how she felt now, though. And I was gone for hours when I left her. I only had to go through that for a few minutes.

Shit. I am such an asshole.

Clara starts gathering up the blankets and folding them into her arms.

I start quietly helping her, not sure what to say at this point because I have already upset her.

I wish she hadn’t left like that.

It also tells me something else, though.

I never want her to go.

I never want to let her go.

Can I really keep her a prisoner forever, though?

But—

She's had the chance to run now, and shedidn’t take it.

She could have been well out of my reach and on her way home by now.

Why didn’t she try and escape?

When I first brought her here it’s all she did, constantly and recklessly trying to get away, even putting herself in danger to achieve it.

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