Hold Me

Chapter 8

8

Nora

My mind is blank, emptied of all thought as I look at Julian. I’m vaguely aware that he’s still inside me, but that’s all I can process at the moment. I feel broken, destroyed, the raw soreness of my body amplified by the deep, stabbing pain in my soul.

I don’t know why this bout of rough s*x felt so much like a violation. Why it reminded me of those early days on the island, when Julian was my cruel captor instead of the man I love. Only a couple of days ago, he tortured me with a flogger and n****e clamps, and I reveled in it, begging for more.

I begged today too, but it wasn’t for more. s*x wasn’t what I wanted—not with my heart breaking for the tiny life growing inside me.

For the innocent child conceived by two killers.

“Nora…” Julian’s voice is an aching whisper. The pain in it tugs at what remains of my heart. I want to hate him for hurting me, but I can’t. It’s part of his nature. It’s who he is.

It’s why any child of ours is doomed.

I hold his gaze, feeling like I’m crumbling into pieces. “Let me go, Julian. Please.”

“I can’t.” His face twists, the scars around his eye standing out in stark relief. “I can’t, Nora.”

I swallow painfully, knowing he’s not talking about our physical position. “I’m not asking that of you. Please, I just— I just need a moment.”

He withdraws from me, rolling over onto his back, and I turn away onto my side, gathering my knees to my chest. The nausea that plagued me earlier is gone, but I feel weak. Exhausted. My body aches from Julian’s hard use, and a sense of hopelessness engulfs me, adding to my growing despair.

I’m barely cognizant of Julian getting up. It’s only when he presses a warm washcloth between my legs that I realize he must’ve gone to the bathroom and returned. I don’t have the energy to move, so I lie still and let him clean the residue of s*x off my thighs.

Afterwards, he pulls me into his embrace and covers us both with a blanket. As the familiar warmth of his body seeps into me, lulling me to sleep, I dream that I feel the brush of his lips against my temple and hear a whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“As I began to explain last night, this pregnancy was improbable, but not impossible,” Dr. Goldberg says as I sit down on the couch next to Julian. “The morning-after pill is ineffective about five percent of the time, and your probability of being able to conceive a few days after the removal of the old implant was also somewhere in the five-percent range, so if you do the math…” He shrugs, giving me a sheepish smile.

“What about the fact that Nora is still on birth control?” Julian asks, frowning. “She has a new implant in her arm—she’s had it for weeks.”

“Right.” The doctor nods. “We’ll have to remove that as soon as possible and have Nora start taking prenatal vitamins.” He pauses, then adds delicately, “That is, if you want to keep the baby.”

“We do,” Julian responds before I can process the question. “And we want to make sure the child is healthy.” He reaches for my hand and wraps his fingers around my palm, squeezing it possessively. “And Nora, of course.”

Finally comprehending Dr. Goldberg’s words, I glance at Julian. His jaw is set in hard, uncompromising lines. Abortion hadn’t occurred to me as an option, but I’m surprised Julian is so vehemently against it. He claimed not to want children, and I can’t imagine he’d be hypocritical enough to have moral or religious objections to the procedure.

“Of course,” the doctor says. “Obstetrics is not my specialty, but I can examine Nora and remove the implant, and prescribe her the appropriate vitamins. I can also recommend an excellent obstetrician who might agree to oversee Nora’s pregnancy here. I already emailed you her contact info.”

“Good.” Releasing my hand, Julian gets up, looking restless and tense. “I want the absolute best care for Nora.”

“You’ll have it,” Dr. Goldberg promises, rising to his feet as well. Turning toward me, he says, “At least this explains something.”

“Explains what?” I stand up too, uncomfortable being the only one sitting.

“Your persistent nightmares and panic attacks.” The doctor gives me a sympathetic look. “It’s not uncommon for pregnancy hormones to amplify anxiety, particularly in the wake of traumatic events.”

“Oh.” I stare at him. “So I’m not just overreacting to what happened?”

“You’re not,” Dr. Goldberg assures me. “Depression and anxiety can happen to pregnant women with much less provocation. You do need to take it easy and relax as much as possible, though, both for your sake and that of the baby. Acute stress during pregnancy can lead to all sorts of complications, including a miscarriage.”

“I will make sure she rests and doesn’t stress.” Julian reaches for me again, intertwining his fingers with mine. It’s as if he can’t bear not to touch me today. “What about food, drinks?”

“I’ll give you a list of what to avoid,” Dr. Goldberg says. “You probably know about alcohol and caffeine, but there are a few more things, like sushi and seafood high in mercury.”

“All right.” Julian turns his head to look at me. “Baby, would you be okay with the doctor examining you now and removing the implant?” His voice is unusually soft, his gaze filled with indefinable emotion.

“Um, sure.” I see no reason to procrastinate, and I like that Julian asked, instead of just ordering the examination in his usual autocratic manner.

“Good.” He lifts my hand—the one he’s holding—and presses a kiss to the back of my wrist before letting it go. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

I nod, and Julian quietly exits the room, closing the door behind him.

“All right, Nora.” Dr. Goldberg smiles at me, reaching for his bag and pulling out latex gloves. “Shall we begin?”

After the doctor leaves, I change into a swimsuit and go to the back porch, grabbing my Psychology textbook on the way. Pregnancy or not, I have an exam to study for, and I’m determined to do so—if for no other reason than to distract myself from the situation. My arm once again sports a tiny, Band-Aid-covered wound, and I try to ignore the faint ache there, not wanting to focus on the fact that my birth control implant is gone… and the reason why.

It’s strange, but the broken feeling of last night is no longer there. It’s been replaced by a kind of distant hurt. I should probably be traumatized and angry at Julian, but I’m not. Like the days right after my abduction, last night feels like it belongs to a different era, to a time before we became who we are. I know I’m playing that game with myself again—the one where I exist solely in the moment and push all the bad stuff into a separate corner of my brain—but I need that game to stay sane.

I need that game because I can’t stop loving my captor, no matter what he does.

It doesn’t help that the Julian of this morning is a far cry from the brutal savage of last night. From the moment I woke up, he’s been treating me like I’m made of crystal. Breakfast in bed followed by a foot rub, constant little kisses and affectionate gestures—if I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s feeling guilty.

Of course, I do know better. Only a thin line separates the monster of last night from the tender lover of this morning. Guilt is an emotion that’s as foreign to my husband as pity for his enemies.

When I get to the back porch, I grab a lounge chair under an umbrella and make myself comfortable. As always, the air outside is hot and humid, so thick it’s almost smothering. I don’t mind, though. I’m used to it. If it gets unbearable, I’ll jump into the pool. For now, I open my textbook and begin re-reading the chapter on neurotransmitters.

I’m only halfway through when a moving shadow makes me look up.

It’s Julian. Dressed in a pair of black swim trunks, he’s standing next to my chair, his gaze traveling over me with unabashed hunger.

I lick my lips, staring up at him. In the bright sunlight, he’s almost unbearably beautiful, the new scars somehow only adding to his stark masculinity. From his shoulders to his calves, every inch of his body is packed with lean, hard muscle. His powerful chest is dusted with dark hair, and his abs are clearly defined, with a line of hair trailing down from his navel into his shorts.

He’s stunning, more gorgeous than any man I’ve known—and I want him.

I want him despite last night, despite everything.

“How are you feeling, baby?” he asks, his voice low and husky. “Any nausea? Tiredness?”

“No.” I sit up, swinging my feet to the ground, and put down the textbook. “I’m okay today.”

Julian sits down next to me and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Good,” he says softly. “I’m glad.”

“Did you come out for a swim?” I try to ignore the warmth pooling between my thighs at his touch. “I thought you would go to your office.”

“I did, just for a few minutes, but I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

“Really?” Julian’s days off are so rare they’re practically nonexistent. “Why?”

He gives me a wry smile. “I couldn’t focus.”

“Oh.” I regard him cautiously. “Do you want to go for a swim then? I was thinking of diving in after I finished this chapter, but I can go now.”

“Sure.” Julian rises to his feet and offers me his hand. “Let’s go.”

I place my hand in his and let him lead me to the pool. As we approach the water, he suddenly bends down, slides his arm under my knees, and picks me up.

Startled, I laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Julian! Don’t throw me in! I like to walk in slowly—”

“I wouldn’t throw you in, my pet,” he murmurs, holding me as he descends into the pool. His eyes gleam with unexpected humor. “What kind of monster do you think I am?”

“Um, do I have to answer that?” I can’t believe I’m in the mood to tease him, but I feel ridiculously lighthearted all of a sudden. Some weird hormonal fluctuation, no doubt, but I don’t mind. I’ll take lighthearted over depressed any day of the week.

“You do have to answer,” he says, a wicked grin appearing on his face. The water is now up to his waist, and he stops, holding me against his chest. “Or else…”

“Or else what?”

“This.” Julian lowers me a few inches, letting my dangling feet touch the water. He tries for a menacing scowl, but I can see the corners of his mouth twitching with a suppressed smile.

“Are you threatening me with a dunking, sir?” Wiggling my right foot in the water, I give him a look of mock reproof. “I thought we just established that you wouldn’t throw me in?”

“Who said anything about throwing?” He steps further into the pool, letting the water creep higher up my calves. His fake scowl disappears, edged out by a darkly sensual smile. “There are other ways to deal with naughty girls.”

“Oh, do tell…” My inner muscles clench at the images flooding my mind. “What kind of ways?”

“Well, for starters”—he bends his head, his lips nearly touching mine as I hold my breath in anticipation—“some cooling off is required.”

And before I can react, he sinks down, lowering us both into the water—which immediately engulfs me up to my chin.

“Julian!” Laughing in outrage, I release my grip on his neck and push at his shoulders. The pool is heated, but the water is still cool compared to my sun-warmed skin. “You said you wouldn’t!”

“I said I wouldn’t throw you,” he corrects, his wicked grin returning. “I didn’t say anything about carrying you in.”

“Okay, that’s it.” I succeed at slipping out of his hold and putting a couple of feet of distance between us. “You want war? You have it, mister!” Scooping up water with my palm, I throw it at him and watch, laughing, as it hits him square in the face.

He wipes the water away, blinking in stunned disbelief, and I back away, laughing even harder.

Recovering from his shock, he begins to advance toward me. “Did you just splash me?” His voice is low and threatening. “Did you just throw water in my face, my pet?”

“What? No!” I mockingly bat my eyelashes as I attempt to retreat to the deeper end of the pool. “I wouldn’t dare—” My words end in a squeal as Julian lunges for me, closing the distance between us in a blink of an eye. At the last moment, I manage to jump out of his reach and start swimming away, still laughing hysterically.

I’m a good swimmer, but less than two seconds pass before Julian’s steely fingers close around my ankle. “Gotcha,” he says, dragging me toward him. When I’m close enough, he grabs my arm to bring me to a vertical position and wraps his muscular arms around my back, grinning at my ineffective attempts to push him away.

“Okay, you got me,” I concede, laughing. “Now what?”

“Now this.” Bending his head, he kisses me, the warmth from his large body counteracting the coolness of the water.

As his tongue invades my mouth, I tense involuntarily, memories of last night surfacing with sudden clarity. For a few dark moments, I relive the terrible feeling of helplessness, of painful betrayal, and I know I wasn’t entirely successful at compartmentalizing the good and the bad. As much as I’d like to pretend that today is a day like any other, it’s not, and no amount of playful laughter changes the fact that the evil in Julian’s soul will never be completely eradicated.

That the monster will always lie in wait.

And yet, as he continues kissing me, the heat of desire grows within me, luring me under its spell. He’s tender with me now, and my body softens, basking in that tenderness, in the insidious warmth of his embrace. I want to believe in the illusion of his caring, in the mirage of his twisted love, and so I let the dark memories fade, leaving me in the brighter present.

Leaving me with the man I love.