Emily lay back as Ian moved inside her, panting and moaning, and she tried to act like she was enjoying it.
For whatever reason, whether it was the knowledge that he'd knocked her up or the fact that he literally had her chained to his bed, he was much more interested in sex and, in the interest of keeping him happy, she was trying to play along.
She knew that her only chance – her child's only chance – was to escape from Ian's makeshift prison. She couldn't bank on anyone coming to rescue her. She was going to have to rescue herself. And the only way to do that was to earn his trust.
She'd spent two weeks being as obedient and docile as possible, though it was entirely opposite to her natural instinct. She played the part of the dutiful loving girlfriend and whenever he brought up the subject of the baby, she acted like she was considering keeping it. And, though it made her skin crawl, she acted like she still loved him, still wanted him.
"Ian..." she gasped, hoping her acting was more convincing than it felt as she squirmed underneath him in a simulation of ecstasy, as if he still turned her on, rather than repulsed her. "Oh, Ian..."
His one hand kept migrating to rest on her slight swell of a belly with some kind of primal pride over the knowledge that he'd impregnated her. She wasn't sure that, as long as she lived, she'd ever be able to forget the feeling of his hands on her, with the knowledge that she'd once longed for that touch.
With a guttural cry, he emptied himself inside her and rolled onto his back, out of breath. Emily shuddered, feeling used and dirty. She swallowed on the lump in her throat, trying not to cry lest she anger him by breaking the fantasy that she was anything other than fully committed to the illusion that they could still be a family.
"You seem distracted, Love," he remarked, as if only just realizing she was there.
"I'm not feeling well," she lied, pulling the sheets up over herself to hide her nakedness from his eyes.
Concern creased his brow and he reached over to feel her forehead. "You feel feverish," he said, frowning. He reached for his phone. "I'll have a doctor come to the house."
"No!" Emily yelped, entirely too urgent. Then, softer, "No, I'm sure it's nothing. I'll probably be fine by tomorrow."
Ian studied her for a moment as if unsure he believed her, then nodded once. "But if you're still unwell tomorrow, I'm calling the doctor."
She forced a smile. "Thank you for taking care of me. I know you're only trying to do what's best for us."
He seemed pleased to hear her say that. "You just worry about growing our child, Love. I'll worry about the rest." He kissed the top of her head, then climbed out of bed and started getting dressed.
"Do you think you could leave the handcuffs off?" she asked sweetly when he moved to restrain her again, batting her eyes up at him for good measure. "I couldn't go anywhere even if I wanted to..." She nodded to where she knew the door was locked with at least one armed guard posted outside. Ian spared no expense when it came to his personal security.
He said nothing for a long moment, seemingly considering whether he believed her request to be innocent. Eventually, he nodded. "Aye, I suppose you're right. You wouldn't get ten steps..."
"I'm not going anywhere," she promised. "We're going to be a family."
It was late into the night when Alex got a phone call from a number she didn't recognize. "Hello?" she answered warily, suspicious and more than a little concerned.
"Look for Lauren Reynolds."
Alex felt her heart leap and lodge somewhere in her throat. The voice was shaky and frightened, but it was unmistakably Emily. "Where are you?" she asked in a breathless rush. "Are you safe?" But the line had already gone dead.
With panic pounding in her chest like a war drum, she called Clyde Easter.
Emily was hooked up to half a dozen monitors and IVs when a team of armed federal agents swarmed her hospital room. If she hadn't been praying they'd show up, she might've been frightened.
As it was, she was overjoyed.
"Get on the ground, now!" the lead agent demanded, gun aimed squarely at Ian's chest.
Ian made no move to comply. He turned to Emily, one hand stroking her hair almost tenderly, his eyes almost soft as he looked at her. He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.
"Hey! I'm not going to tell you again!" the agent commanded, "Get on the ground, now!"
He raised himself up to his full height, putting his hands behind his head. Without looking at the agents, eyes never leaving Emily's, he said, "Kill me or arrest me, but I will not lay on the ground like a dog."
As they lead Ian out of the room in handcuffs and, hopefully, out of her and her child's lives forever, Alex came bursting through the door. She paused when she caught sight of Emily like she couldn't believe she was really there, alive and unharmed. Then, professionalism be damned, she swept Emily up in her arms, holding her tight to her chest, choking on relieved sobs.
After a moment of surprise, Emily returned the embrace, breath hitching with sobs of her own.
When she pulled back, Clyde was standing beside the bed, studying Emily with curiosity. "How did you do it?" he asked, "How did you engineer this escape?"
Alex turned to him with a frown. "Can't this wait until the morning? She's just been through hell; she's clearly exhausted. This much stress isn't good for the baby." As if to punctuate her statement, the fetal stress monitor beeped insistently.
Emily shot her a thankful smile, squeezed her hand in reassurance. "It's okay," she insisted. "I won't be able to fall asleep any time soon." She turned to Clyde. "Ian..." She paused, swallowed thickly. Saying his name felt wrong – he may have been a bad man, but she'd loved him at one point... "He'd been careful to remove anything from the room I could use to harm myself fearing I might take my own life, so I had to use my imagination...
"I smashed the light bulb in the lamp beside the bed and used one of the shards to make a shallow cut on my inner thigh where it wouldn't immediately be obvious. I used the blood to make it look like I was miscarrying, so he had no choice but to take me to the hospital. I borrowed the nurse's phone while she was doing my pelvic to call the only number I could remember..." She gave Alex a small, almost shy, smile.
Clyde hummed an impressed note. "You think well on your feet," he praised.
Alex shot him an irritated look, seeing where he was headed, but was saved having to reprimand him when a nurse showed up with a sedative and shooed them from the room.
"Wait..." Emily called out before Alex could go. "Stay?" she asked, "I don't want to be alone right now."
Wordlessly, Alex took the seat beside the bed.
As the sedative took effect, Emily turned her lolling head to look at her, a sleepy sad half-smile on her lips. "Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?" Alex asked, squeezing her hand gently.
"Offering my baby a different story – one that isn't...him."