She awoke to her blood pumping and a funny smell under her nose. She shook her head violently and tried to wipe her nose only to found herself bound. She opened her eyes and looked around to see Clyde sitting across from her and he smiled.
"Good to see you awake! Welcome home," he announced. She looked around; she was tied down to a chair and in a basement.
"Where is Samson?" she asked immediately.
"He's safe upstairs, and will remain so until you can learn your place Skye." Lyndsay snapped her teeth at his nearby hand, missing barely inches. He slapped her and she could feel her cheek tingling and she hissed at the sensation.
"Lord knows I tried it all Skye, I tried to love you and give you nice things, I tried to keep you safe, I even tried to train you like my brother did to his wives. But it seems I need to become stricter, I need to lead with a stronger hand." Her lower lip trembled.
"Please just let him go. Do what you want to me but let my son go." He slapped her again.
"OUR son Skye. He is OUR son. Now I have a question for you; and I want an honest answer. What the hell is this?" Clyde demanded as he pointed to her bicep where her IUD was inserted just beneath her skin. There were five raised bumps of where the tubes had been inserted.
"Tracking device," she replied easily. Clyde reached for his belt and pulled out his large hunting knife from the sheath.
"Nice try Skye, but in case you've forgotten, I have gone to med school, I may not have graduated, but I know what this is. You know I hate liars!" he growled as he dug the tip of his blade into her arm. She screamed as hot searing pain shot up her arm and through her body, blood ran down her arm and onto the floor as he cut open a large enough slit that he was able to use the blade to rip out the IUD. The pain was so intense she faded in and out of consciousness. When the five plastic strips were all out Clyde stitched her up and wrapped a bandage around her. Lyndsay's head sagged against her chest as the pain continued throbbing from her arm.
"You would have still removed them if I had told you the truth."
"Yes, but if you had told me the truth, I would have numbed your arm first." He smiled as he grabbed an old towel and started to clean up his hands.
"You have no right to prevent pregnancy Skye; that is in direct violation of the Lord. If he chooses to bless you enough to carry life, it is a sin to deny him." She didn't respond as she tried to work through the pain.
"I am going up to feed our son now. Does he like grilled cheese?" Clyde asked thoughtfully. Lyndsay nodded, she hated that she was restrained and couldn't do a damn thing. But if he was going to feed Samson, he should at least feed him things he likes.
"He also likes milk mixed with the tomato soup instead of a can of water. Creamier," she announced softly. Clyde smiled, thanked her and made his way upstairs. He locked the basement door behind him and made his way into the living room where Samson sat on the couch, Looney tunes on again.
"Do you want to help me make lunch?" he asked Samson.
"I'm not hungry." Samson answered.
"You will eat son. Or you will sit at the table until your plate is all finished. I don't know how your mother does things for you. But in this house you eat what is served and you are thankful for it." Samson didn't reply and Clyde turned back to the kitchen. After he cooked some grilled cheese and tomato soup he directed Samson to the dining room table. When the boy refused to get off the couch Clyde took one step towards him and the boy was up and walking briskly towards the food. Clyde could hear the kid's stomach growl as he sat in front of his lunch. But he crossed his arms defiantly while Clyde sat down across from him and started eating his own lunch.
"So Samson, tell me about school, how do you like it?" he asked casually. Samson glared at him in response and said nothing.
"You and your mother are not going anywhere, we mind as well get to know each other."
"I don't care if you are my father or not, I don't like you and I never will!" Samson finally yelled.
"You WILL respect your elders or I will beat the respect into you boy. You will not address me like that again, am I clear?" he hollered. Samson shook at the sudden raise in Clyde's voice and he nodded as he stared down at his soup. He wanted him and his mother to go home. He'd always thought his mother was too worried, but now he was beginning to see why. He'd grown up knowing very little about the whole incident. And even less about his father.
Eventually the smell was too irresistible and he began to pick at his plate, the tomato soup made just the way he like it. When his plate was finished Clyde smiled at him and ruffled a hand in his hair.
"Now put your dishes in the sink and let me show you your room." Samson set his plate and bowl into the sink and followed him across the living room and into a closed room. Inside was a blue painted room filled with all kinds of new toys. Unopened boxes of Legos, a few different gaming systems, a large bed with an Adventure time sheet set. Samson didn't want to admit it, but his room was pretty cool.
"Mom doesn't let me play video games all the time. She says they'll turn my brain to mush."
"And I agree; you will be limited on how long you can play and only after your chores are done."
"Chores?" Clyde chuckled.
"You don't have chores at your house?" Samson shook his head.
"Mom says I need to be a kid first, and worry about cleaning up after myself when I'm older."
"Well in real life you have to work for things you want in life. Nothing is ever just handed to you. Speaking of chores, I need to chop wood for the furnace; I'll split 'em, you can stack them." Samson nodded and followed Clyde outside. In the back yard there was a giant pile of wooden logs along with an Axe and a small stack of already chopped wood.
"You can stack that inside by the stove, and by the time that's finished I'll at least have a few logs finished for you to stack there and replace them." Samson nodded as he started carrying wood inside the house. Once he was in the house he set the wood down and ran for the basement door. There were several locks; a few were faced the opposite way so that Clyde could lock her in, while also locking him out. He tried to open them, frantic to get to his mother.
