Page 71 of Owned

25

Rowan

I stared at the front door of the loft silently, debating what to do. Atlas had been very clear the week earlier when I’d found out I was pregnant, that I had to stay put in the loft. I thought it would only be for a couple of days, until he and his buddies had figured out a way around Charlotte’s demands, but a week had gone past and nothing had been said, and now there were security guards hanging discreetly around outside the front door. And I knew that because I’d tried to leave a few days ago and had been told very firmly and very politely, that I wasn’t going anywhere.

To say I was furious was an understatement, but sadly, whenever I had that conversation with Atlas, about how I was beginning to feel like Rapunzel in the tower, he would shut me down, either with sex or by walking away and refusing to have the discussion.

He’d apparently told Charlotte that I wasn’t well enough to attend the doctor’s appointment she’d arranged for me, which caused her to then send the doctor to the loft to do a home check-up. Atlas had been furious, sending the poor woman straight back to where she’d come from, which had then led to a phone call with Charlotte that I got the feeling had not ended well, because he’d been ropable after it.

That night he’d come to bed, demanding and still furious, and I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me, since that seemed to calm him. He liked it when we lay in silence together and I was in his arms, his hand stroking my hair. I could hear his heartbeat become slow and steady, his breathing relaxed, all the tension in him gone. It made me feel good to have him like this, because I hated to see him angry. Anger was armor, I knew, and it was armor for fear and it seemed that since he’d discovered that I was pregnant, he’d become afraid.

He didn’t talk to me about it, but I knew he was concerned that he wouldn’t be able to find a way around whatever it was that Charlotte had on him and his friend Tennyson Fox, because whatever it was, it was serious. Serious enough that he’d go to jail if Charlotte wanted him to.

That scared me if I thought too hard about it and not just because that would leave me alone. It would leave me without him, and I did not enjoy the thought of being without him. But if I followed that particular thought too far, it was going to lead me to places I didn’t want to be in, so I decided I wasn’t going to think about it.

Atlas had managed to put Charlotte off for another week, but I knew that wouldn’t last forever. She would insist on me attending one of her appointments and then she’d find out what he and I had both been trying to hide from her.

Frustrated, I turned from the door and went back to the couch where I’d been sitting, scrolling through pregnancy websites, trying to get my head around the fact that I was pregnant. I didn’t feel any different, but it was early days still.

Sitting back down on the couch, I stared sightlessly at the laptop screen.

I hated being penned in like this, it made me feel trapped. It also made me feel utterly useless. I wanted to help Atlas and myself, I wanted to have some control over what was happening to me and to him, yet I was powerless to do anything.

I didn’t know what Atlas and Tennyson had done, or what kind of information Charlotte had on them both, and given how powerful Atlas and his two other friends were, it was surprising that they hadn’t found a way around it. Then again, I’d been doing some research into the Hamilton family and what I’d discovered about them had been eye-opening. They were hugely powerful and influential, so perhaps it wasn’t surprising at all that Atlas and his friends hadn’t been able to find a way out.

Then again, I wasn’t exactly chopped liver. I was a Hamilton.

Up in the bathroom last week, as Atlas had become possessive with me on top of the vanity, I’d suggested that I speak to Charlotte, though I hadn’t really been thinking much beyond talking to her and perhaps convincing her not to go through with taking the baby.

Atlas had told me no in no uncertain terms that I was not to speak with her and he’d been adamant about it. I don’t know why it turned me on so much when he was adamant, but it did. And in fact, the harder he was, the more erotic I found it. Especially when he put his hand around my throat. My God, that turned me on so badly, the weight of his palm pressing gently against my skin, against my pulse. The grip of his fingers reassuring in a way I couldn’t describe. He never hurt me, never tried to choke me, his hand was just there, and it made me feel owned.

I liked it. In fact, I was starting to feel that being owned by Atlas Blackwood was what I wanted, was what I craved. Owned in every way there was.

Still, that wasn’t going to help me if he and his friends couldn’t find a way out of Charlotte’s contract. No, if they couldn’t then I hated to think of what might happen, because Atlas was not going to let anyone near this child of ours, and I worried that it might lead him to do something drastic. There was a ruthless streak in him, a core of iron that the handsome, easy going playboy hid, and that was the kind of ruthlessness that would do anything and everything in its power to protect those he cared about.

That obviously includes you.

But did it? Was it me he cared about or was it simply that he didn’t want anyone taking away his possessions? I was his ‘toy’ and the baby would be just another thing he owned too, and while I know he did care about my feelings, did he actually care about me? The person I was?

Except I couldn’t afford to start thinking about that kind of thing, because then I’d be forced to start think about my feelings for him and that was something I really didn’t want to think about.

Anyway, what I did know was that his ruthlessness didn’t frighten me. No, I was frightened for the man who’d have to deal with the consequences of his own actions. Because some things you couldn’t come back from.

Certainty settled in me. I couldn’t just sit here and let Atlas become a victim of his own ruthless need to possess. I couldn’t sit here and do nothing. I had to help somehow.

As I sat there, I suddenly had an idea about how I could do it. The fantasy Atlas had told me about, that he hadn’t mentioned since.

Obviously putting on a sex show here was out of the question, but what about at Arcadia? That would get me out of the loft, and I was sure Atlas would agree to it if it meant he got to have his fantasy.

If I was careful, I could also arrange to meet Charlotte there first, talk to her about this baby, see if I could make her see reason and maybe reach some kind of compromise.

Are you sure you want to go through with it? You can’t promise him that then pull out at the last minute.

Anxiety settled in my gut, along with a certain edgy anticipation. Sure, I was nervous even thinking about it, yet some deep part of me wanted to give this to him. He’d given me a lot after all, pleasure and a home, a future for Mom and I, and I really wanted to do something for him in return. This was the one thing he wanted, the one thing no one had ever given him, and he wanted to do it with me, so why shouldn’t I? Sex with him was always good and there was no reason this wouldn’t be either.

Deciding, I pulled out my phone and texted Atlas. Going crazy here thinking about you and that fantasy of yours.

There was a pause and I waited. He liked sexting and he was good at it, though he was usually the one who initiated it.

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