Tall, Dark & Furious (Pyte/Sentinel 6) - Page 37

“Stand?” he asked, only to frown when she grabbed his hand and gave it a tug that had him following her back the way they came.

Instead of answering him, Samantha asked, “Do you think you could handle being around people without losing control?”

“Most likely not,” Trace said as his attention was drawn to the small hand wrapped around his.

As his wife dragged him through the house, he found himself running his thumb over the back of her hand, enjoying the feel of her small hand in his, and nearly groaned when she tightened her hold around his hand as she dragged him outside with a mumbled, “That’s what I thought.”

“Why are you dragging me?” he asked as she led him down the stairs.

“To make sure that you don’t kill Bambi,” she said when they reached her car.

She released his hand, opened the back and-

Made him grunt when she shoved her satchel in his arms. With a sigh, she grabbed the sack that his father left for him and shoved that in his arms as well, closed the door, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back towards the house where she grabbed the bags from him and placed them on the floor so that she could search through them.

“There has to be something that we can use,” Samantha mumbled to herself as she opened the sack, grabbed a small stack of light green parchment, a small thin black square, and what looked like another phone with a black string wrapped around it, and slapped them into his hand before shifting her attention to her own satchel, pulled out some clothes and-

Forced him to slap his hand against the wall when his legs threatened to give out as he watched her shimmy out of her trousers before he could look away. Slowly exhaling, Trace forced his attention away from his wife and her smooth, lightly tanned legs that he wanted to run his hands over and did what he’d always done when he needed to distract himself. He focused on the only thing that mattered.

Revenge.

It was the one thing that helped him survive being trapped in that hole. Whenever the hunger and the pain from not being able to breathe became too much and he needed to escape his tomb, he thought of all the things that he was going to do once he escaped. He replayed everything that he’d planned on doing to the bitch once he got his hands on her, how he’d make her pay, make her get down on her hands and knees and beg him for mercy as he-

“Stupid boobs,” his wife mumbled with a soft sigh, drawing his attention to find her dropping her blouse on the floor as she placed her arm across her bare breasts and searched through her satchel while he stood there, biting back a groan.

“Your father said that we couldn’t leave so we’re gonna have to order food,” she explained as she grabbed the cloth trimmed with lace that he hadn’t been able to figure out and pulled it over her head so that she could slide her arms through it, giving him a view of the soft curve of one large breast and-

“Maybe you could stay here while I run out and pick something up?” she said, worrying her bottom lip as she glanced over her shoulder as she finished covering her breasts and reached for a new blouse.

When his answer was a glare, her shoulders dropped with a mumbled, “That’s what I thought,” as she pulled her blouse on as she glanced around the room.

“What are you looking for?” Trace asked, frowning as he followed her gaze.

“You didn’t happen to see a computer or an iPad, did you?” she asked, sending him a hopeful look only to mumble, “Stupid question.”

Nodding to herself, Samantha sighed heavily as she grabbed the phone out of his hand, unwrapped the black string from around it and slid the shiny end into a small slot in the wall. Frowning, Trace leaned over and-

“You r

eally don’t want to do that,” Samantha said, grabbing his hand to stop him when he moved to explore the other slot.

At his questioning look, she gestured weakly towards the wall. “Electricity. It’s what powers all of our devices, turns on lights, and does a lot of other stuff that I’m too tired to explain right now. I’m not sure if it can kill you, but it’s going to really hurt.”

Nodding, he dropped his hand away and watched his wife as she headed towards the closed door across the room and-

“Oh, thank god,” she said, sighing in relief as she hurried into the dark room only to rush back out seconds later, holding a thin square item in her hand.

“What year were you born again?” she absently asked as she headed towards the chaise lounge only to switch directions so that she could pluck the small square out of his hand and head back to the lounge chair where she sat down with her legs crossed and mumbled, “Credit card,” as though that explained everything.

“1649,” he said, watching as she taped her fingertip against the surface.

“The expiration date is next year, so as long as your father activated this card before he put it in the bag, we should be all set. We could ask him, but he said that it wasn’t safe to call again,” Samantha explained as he sat down next to her and watched in utter fascination as an assortment of bright colors suddenly appeared on the surface.

“It’s an iPad,” she explained as she continued to tap the surface, swiping to the left, using her finger to press letters only to type in the numbers off the thing she’d called a credit card a moment later.

“What are you doing?”

“First, I’m going to order food because I’m starving. Then I’m going to order some snacks and drinks from 7-Eleven to get us through the night since the grocery store won’t be able to deliver until tomorrow,” she said, only to worry her bottom lip as she glanced at him, sighed, and shook her head before adding, “It might be a good idea to do an Amazon.com order.”

Tags: R.L. Mathewson Pyte/Sentinel Fantasy
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