Mia

"Not there! From now on she will stay in my bedroom!" Patrick orders Bastien.

Like a sheep led to slaughter, Patrick's most loyal shepherd drags me away from the door of my room toward the end of the hallway. Heavy airstream expels through my nose as I protest Bastien's brutal grip around my arm, but my body complies either way.

The next stop is a larger bedroom than mine. It has a wide window, unlike mine which resembled a designated jail cell with a clean bathroom amenity. I grunt from extreme anger and annoyance, but as soon Patrick walks in with a gun still held in his hand I find myself umobinh, glaring at him venomously. 

Murderer! There's not a trace of remorse in his eyes, all the while I see Anne's lifeless body thudding on the cold floor repeatedly in my mind. She could've died better than that. Whether it was love or foolishness, no one deserves to die begging for it.

"Let her go," Patrick orders, and Bastien frees me instantly. "Leave us. Tighten security; if anyone slags, fire them! I don't need incompetent fools protecting the house!"

Bastien nods quietly and leaves without a single glance at me. I mentally snort. So much for the "Nothing is going to happen" speech. 

Bastard!

The door slams from outside. I stand still yet but firmly without batting an eye, looking at Patrick. If he wanted to kill me, I wouldn't be alive right now, but I'm not sure what's worse than death if not being alive with him in one closed room in the middle of the night.

And it dawns on me that he wants me to share this room with him. To sleep in his bed! That can't be good. I don't want him near me. All that comes to mind is him forcing his way on me. It makes my stomach revolt and my skin crawl. I can't let him assault me again.

"Did you think you could leave?" Patrick asks with acid in his pissed-off voice.

"No, I didn't," I confess, holding my breath tightly, warily. "But I had to try because I still want to live and I don't see life with you no matter how hard I try."

Engulfed by a storm of fury, Patrick walks toward the five-six feet wooden bed and places his gun on the nightstand next to the lamp. My eyes catch it, and my brain registers nothing but ways to reach and hold it and put a hole in his head if I can.

"It's unloaded," I hear Patrick say. "I know you think you could use it to escape here but..." He pauses and then turns around toward me with a piteous look in his eyes. "But there is no escape, Mia. There is no way you can leave this place even if you manage to get past the guards and run into the woods."

My heart picks a faster pace, fear and anger roaring like thunder inside me.

"And so what?" I snap haphazardly. "You want me to pledge my fealty to you with the hope that you'd be merciful or what? Why didn't you kill me with her? What do you want from me, Patrick?" I stalk every step he takes back to me.

At least now I'm sure killing me is not part of his plan. Not that I'm comforted by that fact; it only gives me time, and maybe a strategy to keep not only myself alive, but also my baby. However, I don't know how exactly.

"What I want is very simple, Mia," Patrick replies smoothly. He's back standing in front of me, wearing a sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants as though we're home. His knuckles reach for my left cheek as he says, "I just want things back to how they used to be. I want you. I need you back with me, that's all."

My breath quickens at the horrid feeling of his touch on my skin. I hate it.

But I keep the front and tell him, "Well, that's improbable, Patrick. Things have changed. YOU HAVE changed. I HAVE changed. How can we go back when you're holding me here against my will? How can I trust that you'll never hurt me again if it's the only thing you know how to do best, huh?" I draw fake tears, making him feel like I'm ready to break. 

But God knows how I truly feel.

And as expected, Patrick shuts the distance between us and lifts my chin, forcing me to look up at him. Tears barrel down my cheeks and his face softens to worry.

Almost there. Now be vulnerable, Patrick! Say you love me!

"I love you, butterfly, " he whispers, his eyes glowing with fond emotions that can fool the mass. "You know I do, right? Everything I do is to get you back. I can't lose you. No, I'd rather kill everyone in my way just to reach your heart again."

Over my dead body.

"Yeah, you've killed Anne already." I sniffle. "And then what? You'll kill my baby?" The thought brings a heavy feeling in my chest—not part of the mind game.

"It's only a small sacrifice we each have to make," Patrick says. I glance sharply at him. "After tomorrow, no one else has to die. If it's a baby you want, I'll give you another. As many as you want, butterfly."

I wish I had that knife! 

Patrick places his palms on my cheeks, and his body comes too close to mine. I press my trembling lips together and crane my neck because I know he wants to kiss me.

"If you truly love me, you'll have to prove it," I say.

Frowning, Patrick draws his head back, but his hands remain on my face.

"Prove what?" He doesn't seem to appreciate the direction of my remark.

I look back at him and answer, "That you love me. That you can change for me. Because I've done it for nine years, Patrick. Not once did I think of any other man but you. And what did you do? Fuck any woman you could fuck. Even my friend. Yet you wanted me to keep loving you. To accept you. And maybe I can. Maybe it's not too late. But how can I be so sure of that? It's your turn to prove that you love me!" 

His hands fall off my face. Touche! I know I've poked the beehive but it's a game of survival. I've reached an impasse; I can't beat him. Not yet. So I need time. I need him to trust me.

"Where are you heading with this, Mia?" Patrick asks, his voice back to its usual glory.

"To the fact that maybe we can go back in time," I reply. His forehead creases, and I can swear to heavens that joy and excitement have crossed his eyes fleetingly. "But under one condition."

I hear him breathing rapidly, giving me a cold look that could shudder the devil.

"Say it," he deadpans.

"You take me as I am," I state boldly. A wave of anger and shock washes over him but he holds himself. "You kill my baby, you kill me. You want me, you take us both."

Bullshit, I know. There's no way I want him to be the father of my son or daughter even if it's the end of the world. But I'll say and do everything to survive this horror of my life. 

Anything to protect you, little bean.

"You gotta be kidding me." Patrick's laughter vibrates through the red brick walls; there's no humor in it. "You want me to accept that thing as my own?" he asks while pointing a finger at my belly.

I don't respond, but my determined face says it all. And he reads it. And he hates it.

His laughter subsidizes, and eventually, it dies upon my firm silence.

"You fucked another man, Mia! You got yourself pregnant and now you want me to accept your bastard child as mine?" he roars contemptuously. "No, I can't!"

So only men can cheat? At last, I find mobility and fling myself toward him like a rocket.

"Where were you when it all happened, Patrick?" I hit him on the chest, infuriated. He grips my hands tightly, but it doesn't stop me from snapping, "I know I haven't told you this before because you always pride yourself as the victim here, but the truth is... I fucked Red to spite you! I grew tired of waiting around for you to stop cheating on me! I was fed up with being your little butterfly, innocent and obedient and STUPID! I got tired of crying for you so I flipped! You don't want this baby, fine. Why don't you let me go so I can take care of it myself? Why are you still clinging?"

"I SAID NO, MIA!" Patrick shouts.

Silence ensues as we both pant. He looks like a crazy bull but I'm not afraid of him.

"Well then you only have one choice, I'm afraid," I reply in a shaky voice. "You want one, you get two! You kill one, you kill both! If I lose my baby, you lose me. Those are my terms. I'll kill myself if I have to but you're not taking this baby away from me!" Forcefully, I pull my hands out of his and walk toward where I suppose to be the bathroom.

Patrick doesn't stop me, and that can only mean I got into his head—hopefully. His obsession with me is my only immunity right now. I'll use every bit of it to keep us alive but for how long? When will this end?

I shut the bathroom door and lean against it, trembling. Hands on my hardening stomach, I breathe heavily to repress the storm of tears pooling in my eyes. I feel powerless and useless like a sparrow with broken wings.

Anne was right. I'm just a weakling waiting for someone to save me. Is there anything else I can do to leave this place and keep my baby from harm? What else am I capable of doing? What else, damn it! Defeated, I cry.

He said he'd protect us. Where is he now? Tears refuse to stop; the more I hold the necklace Red gave me, the more my heart breaks and fear shoots in through its cracks. I need him but how can he reach me?

Patrick

She's out of her mind!

I love her truly but I can't accept some bastard in my family. No, I'll get rid of it just as I planned. She'll forget it once I get her pregnant and give her the baby she thirsts to have, even if it's the last thing I need.

I'll kill myself if I have to.

Her words haunt me. Fuck! I groan and reach for a bottle of tequila to simmer this anger. I know how strong-willed Mia is. That fierce fire in her eyes is nothing to ignore when it comes to her resolutions—one of her many charms.

And I'm not ready to lose her.

Maybe that baby could be the leverage I need to keep her by my side. I pour the drink and take a shot. The burn slides down as I ponder: I can simply tell her it died during labor. There's nothing money can't buy.

A few knocks on the door and Bastien walks in holding his walkie-talkie. "Everyone stays in position, Kane, do you copy?" he snaps into it as he scrambles farther into the room.

Then we hear, "No, it's bad! I fucking don't know where the shots are coming from but Finn and Roscher are dead! No response from the woods gate either!"

My face furrows.

"What the hell is happening?" I demand, throwing the tequila bottle aside.

Panting, Bastien responds, "As I said, stay in positions! Don't let anyone get inside the house, Kane!"

Bang! Bang! Bang! Multiple gunshots echo from outside.  

"This is fucking insane, Bastien! All the gates are compromised! Whoever is shooting is one he'll go motherfucker, I can't—"

Another shot and the line dies. 

"It's Red," Bastien mutters comprehensively, eyes at me. "We have intruders. I think we're surrounded."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I march to the window and there's a car heading in with firearms purring bullets on both sides. "Fuck!" I face Bastien. "You think it's him?" I feel my heart racing.

"Not sure. But we both know he's the only shooter with that caliber," Bastien replies while cocking his gun. "You need to leave this room."

I nod. But why is my heart beating so fast, damn it! I'm not afraid of that bastard! No, I'm not!

"Mia! Where's Mia?" I snap frantically.

Just as I move, she steps out, looking at us quizzically.

"I heard gunshots. What's going on?" she asks breathlessly. 

"None of your business, come here!" I grab her hand, and as usual, she protests with so many questions that I could kill her first before I consider answering. "Shut up! Just shut the fhck up and walk!" I bark.

"This way! To the basement!" Bastien leads the way and all I can think of is that fearless bastard and his guts.

_______

A/N: Our bodyguard in the house. Any kind words for Patrick?