Page 300 of Redeemed

“Did you sleep well?” he asks nonchalantly.

Like he didn’t kidnap me yesterday.

Like he didn’t rip my clothes off and rape me before bed.

Like he didn’t keep me trapped against him all night.

“I slept fine.”

When Isaiah sets his mug on the table too harshly, I jump. It’s a mistake, showing fear, but it was an involuntary reaction.

“So did I,” he says, annoyed. “Thank you for asking.”

I drop my gaze to my lap. “Sorry.”

He pushes his mug across the table until it’s right in front of me. There’s no need to ask me to refill it. Why ask someone to do their job?

“Are you on birth control?” Isaiah asks as I pour his coffee.

“No,” I lie.

Thank god I went with an IUD instead of the pill.

“Good,” Isaiah says. “Tomorrow, you have an appointment at the clinic. I want the women’s doctors to look you over.”

I freeze. “What? Why?”

“You couldn’t get pregnant before. We tried for three years. I’m not about to wait three more. I want you pregnant by the end of summer.”

Isaiah’s mug slips from my hands and falls to the floor. Hot coffee splashes onto my bare feet and legs, but the pain barely registers.

I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

“Heaven,” Isaiah says impatiently.

He’s right in front of me now, but I can’t look at him. I can’t move at all.

My lack of acknowledgment earns me a slap across the face. It forces me back to the reality of where I am and who I’m with. Of who I’m going to become if I can’t escape again.

“Clean this up, and then get ready for church,” Isaiah snaps. “I don’t want you making us late.”

. . .

The walk to church is just as I remember it, except now, Isaiah has a firm grip on my arm as we make our way down the path. We pass by the school, and then the medical center, and then the large community garden.

When the gate that leads outside comes into view, I’m surprised to still find two men guarding it. Disappointment spirals through me as I realize what that means.

“Are they not attending the service?”

Isaiah shakes his head. “Whoever works the gate shift Sunday morning has a private meeting with Pastor Beckham and the elders later in the day for prayer, teaching, and worship. We can’t risk leaving it unattended.”

Glancing back, I get one more good look at the gate. I can’t get past two armed men. Even if I did, what about the men in the towers around the perimeter? Would they shoot me down if I escaped, or let me go?

Isaiah snaps his fingers in front of my face, and I realize I’ve stopped in the middle of the road. Fury is etched into his expression, and this close, I can see the pale freckles across his cheeks that’ll darken over the summer.

“Stop it,” he grits out. “Stop thinking of ways to escape. It’s not going to happen, you hear me? If I have a say in it, you’re never stepping foot outside these grounds ever again.”

“E… ever again?” I ask faintly.

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