God help me, I don’t know how I’m going to get Abigail and I out of this mess. I don’t know how I’m going to get us away from this crazy man…

Especially now that he’s calling me his.

Just what the hell does he mean by that? I wonder as I take a seat beside Abigail on the couch.

He called me his in the kitchen as if he thought the concept would give me comfort, but all it does is fill me with dread.

Does he intend to keep us? Like we’re pets or something? Does he really think he can get away with it?

Fuck, he probably can.

Just because I slept with him once… okay, twice, doesn’t mean I like the man. It was just a mistake made in the heat of the moment. A mistake I seriously don’t intend on repeating—despite what just happened in the kitchen.

All I have to do is keep my distance from him. Avoid letting him touch me. Avoid touching him.

But until when?

Why, dammit?

Why does my body turn on me every time he touches me? Why, even now, do I still shiver with the memory of his kiss. Why can’t his touch feel cold and disgusting like Ivan’s? What makes him different?

At least I knew Ivan, I could predict him. Andrew is a complete wild card. I have no idea what he’ll do next.

Abigail smiles and bounces beside me as she watches her show, and something about it just makes me want to scream in hysterical frustration. She’s already adapting to this madness. The stuff that’s going on is probably even starting to feel normal to her.

I’ve got to get her out of here.

I glance towards the front door. I’m dressed in only a t-shirt, and we don’t have the necklace, or any money, or anything we could trade, but…

Fuck it, we should just make a run for it. Anything is better than staying here.

I rise to my feet and Andrew steps out of the kitchen.

My luck can’t be this bad, it can’t…

As if he can tell exactly what I’m thinking and he’s amused by it, his lips curl up into a smirk as he regards me.

“Going somewhere, Amy?” he asks.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Abigail tear her attention away from the TV to look up at me.

“Actually…” I drawl out just to see that smirk on his face fade away.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warns, taking a menacing step towards me.

Would he hurt me in front of my daughter?

I stare into his dark eyes for a long moment and come to the conclusion that yes, yes he would.

Whatever there is between us, I don’t think it protects me. No, if anything, it makes my situation that much worse.

I’m no fool, I know he has all the power here.

He can do anything he wants to me, and who’s to stop him? Me? Abigail?

“Amy…” he says, taking another step towards me.

Just the thought of him coming closer is enough to send me into a panic. I don’t know what will happen if he gets close but I know it won’t be good. And it’s not because I’m afraid he’ll hurt me. No, I’m afraid he’ll do something worse… like kiss me again. I’d rather submit than endure that.

I’ll take humiliation over the confusing attraction to keep him at a distance.

At least for now.

With a sigh, I look away and drop back down to the couch.

Andrew seems to relax, the tension going out of him. His shoulders drop and he cracks his neck.

He stares at me for a long moment, the air crackling between us, then walks over to the dining room table.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

I shake my head. My stomach is so twisted up just the thought of food is making me feel sick.

“You should eat,” he says and looks at me pointedly.

It takes me a moment to realize what he’s trying to say. When I realize he’s looking at my stomach, my face burns with mortification. He can’t be seriously suggesting… Oh my god, he is… He’s totally eluding that I could be pregnant.

I can’t even.

No.

Hell no.

Oh god.

But maybe I am…

My brain just shuts down, having reached its limit of acceptable craziness.

Over the next few minutes, I’m vaguely aware of Abigail bouncing up and down beside me, singing along with a cartoon princess.

Pregnant. I could be pregnant.

In the kitchen, Andrew cleans up the mess from breakfast.

If I am, then what?

I’m so paralyzed by my thoughts, I just sit on the couch in stunned silence. I didn’t think my situation could get any worse, but now it’s about as bad as it could possibly get.

It’s not until Andrew is done cleaning up and almost upon me that I feel like I can move again. All my muscles tense up and I’m prepared to bolt.

He drops down on the couch and wraps his arm around me just as I try to stand.

Bicep tensing, his arm squeezes around me to drag me closer to him. I try to push up. I try to scoot away from him. But my desire to move away only seems to make him that more determined.

I know this drill, we did this last night, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

The more I fight him the more his hold tightens.

He traps me against his side, arm wrapping around my shoulder, and his heavy hand coming to rest on my arm.

Abigail glances over at us and he grins at her.

To my dismay, she smiles back at him.

I take a deep breath, hold it, and count to ten. If I just relax, maybe eventually his hold will loosen enough for me to escape.

I exhale the breath I was holding, and tired of staring off into space, I take a good look at him, familiarizing myself with him. After all, it’s always good to know your enemy.

Last night, in the dark, I couldn’t see him though I got to know him quite intimately.

In the light of day, he seems to loom even larger, if that’s even possible. It must be because he’s so close, practically breathing down my neck.

I look down at the huge hand upon my arm and note the scars on his knuckles. I wonder how many men he’s hit with his hands. How many women? How many children?

Shivering with that thought, I jerk my gaze away only to have it fall upon his lap. I definitely don’t need any reminders of how big he is in that department.

I drag my eyes up until they fall on his face.

He stares down at me with a dark, hungry intensity that takes my breath away.

Why is he looking at me like that?

And why is his big head growing even bigger?

Oh, it’s because he’s dipping his face, coming in for a kiss.

Leaning back, I blurt out, “If you’re going to keep us stuck in this house, Abigail will need more to do. Watching cartoons all day isn’t good for her.”

He frowns, pausing a breath away from my lips, looking chagrinned.

“I don’t know how long you intend for this to go on,” I continue, now that I’ve got his attention. “But we’ll also need some clean clothes and all our toiletries.”

He nods his head, his eyes locking on my lips, and murmurs, “It’s already being taken care of.”

“It is?” I ask with some surprise, not expecting that answer. “In what way?” I press, more warily.

Is it being taken care of because he intends to release us? Or is it because he doesn’t expect us to be alive long enough to need more than what we already have?

“Johnathan is bringing—” he starts only to be cut off by someone knocking loudly on the front door. “Speak of the devil,” he mutters and unwraps his arm from around my shoulders with a look of regret.

As soon as his hold on me loosens, I pull away from him. He stands and I sink back into the couch cushions, grateful for the interruption.

Really, just sitting next to him was dangerous. I was afraid that at any moment he was going to start kissing me right in front of Abigail and I wouldn’t be able to resist him.

It’s not until he’s halfway to the front door that I realize I’m half naked. Grabbing one of the couch pillows, I pull up my knees and hug it close, hiding my lack of pants.

“Johnathan,” Andrew says coolly and steps back, giving the other man room to walk in.

Johnathan walks in and grunts before dropping the box he’s carrying to the floor with a loud crash.

“Did you bring it?” Andrew asks, sounding a little impatient as Johnathan straightens and gives him a dirty look.

“Johnny!” Abigail squeals from beside me and then jumps up, running to him.

“Abigail, no!” I call out, popping up but it’s too late. She’s already throwing herself at the guy, hugging those tree trunks he calls legs.

“Hey, there,” Johnathan grumbles and pats her on the head, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

He shoots a distressed look towards Andrew, no doubt hoping Andrew will help him, but Andrew just smirks and leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Was there any trouble?” Andrew asks.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Johnathan grumbles trying to unsuccessfully pry Abigail’s little fingers off of him.

I shouldn’t find it hilarious, I really shouldn’t, but perhaps I’ve finally broken. Laughter bubbles up in my throat and I have to bite my lip to keep from releasing it.

I should probably pull Abigail off the guy, but a little, evil part of me is happy she’s making him so uncomfortable. If he works with a guy like Andrew, I’m sure he deserves it.

“Well, are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?” Johnathan asks Andrew as Abigail starts babbling about her day and how much she missed him.

Suddenly Andrew’s phone starts ringing and his smirk becomes an outright wicked grin. “Sure…” he says and lifts his phone. “But first I’ve gotta take this.”