The Willful by Lauren Nicolle Taylor

Author:Lauren Nicolle Taylor [Taylor, Lauren Nicolle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Clean Teen Publishing, Inc.

“How long has he been unconscious?” Paulo asks as he pushes through the door with his physician behind him. He pulls his shirtsleeves down crisply and buttons his jacket. He sniffs the air and pulls a sour face.

My wide eyes lift to his, and his face relaxes. “Don’t worry, Esther. I’ll take care of this.”

Wind blows through the door, sending leaves scuttling across the carpet. They dance over Pelo’s motionless, but breathing body, which I managed to drag to the living room floor. “He’s been unconscious for about fifteen minutes,” I manage, my head darting back and forth between the two of them. Paulo looks so put together. Classically handsome and stern. Pelo is a sprawling mess.

The physician bends down and checks him over as I hold my breath.

Paulo comes to stand next to me, taking my hand between his and rubbing gently. It’s unnerving that it’s reassuring. “When is this going to stop, Esther? He’s a danger to you and your daughter,” he murmurs, and it sounds like more between the words. It sounds like an invitation.

I pull my hand from his like it’s a trap. “He promised this was it. The last time,” I lie.

Paulo’s laugh is cold, hard, and disbelieving. “He will never change and you know it. You remember the first time we met? You were running from a group of angry citizens because of something he’d done. That was five years ago and look where we are now.” He gestures around our small home as if it disgusts him.

I smooth my hair down, suddenly aware that I’m still in my nightdress. I run my hands over the fabric. He takes a large step closer, his face still edged in hard lines, but a slight softness to his eyes when they alight on my face. “Don’t worry about your clothing. You look beautiful, Esther. Too beautiful and sweet to be with someone like him.” His eyes darken as they pass over Pelo’s motionless body.

I shrink, but he doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to care. He puts a hand to my face. It’s warm, strong. Safe. Safer.

The physician shouts from the floor, “He’s going to be fine. He’s sustained a concussion. The blood was just a dislodged clot in his nose from the beating. He should be moved to bed though, and you’ll need to watch him closely for the next twenty-four hours.”

My eyes slide to the quilt still strewn across the kitchen floor. Paulo’s eyes follow. “If you were with me, you wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor. I would take care of you, and his child,” Paulo says, his eyes fierce with jealousy. I shouldn’t have called him.

I lean into his hand because I don’t want to make him angry. Then I lean away because the way he makes me feel is confusing and wrong. “I’m married, Paulo. That hasn’t changed… it’s… it’s not going to change.” His eyebrows arch at my stuttering words.

The physician interrupts us. “Mr. Amos, can you please assist me? I need to carry him to the bedroom.

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