“I’m not talking to you,” Samantha said with a glare as she pulled herself up, winced when she went to put her foot down, rethought it and limped past him and eventually made her way to the cottage.
For a moment, Trace stood there, staring at the cottage before forcing himself to walk back inside, telling himself that he’d send her away in the morning. He’d been telling himself that lie since he left her with the Sentinel. He should have sent her away after they returned from the woods, but he hadn’t been able to make himself say the words.
Sighing, he grabbed a book off the table and found himself frowning when his wife flopped down on the cot with a muttered, “Ow.”
“What’s wrong, wife?” Trace asked, sighing heavily as he placed his book back down on the table as he went to see what was wrong with his wife only to sigh when she turned her head so that she was looking the other way with a mumbled, “I’m no longer speaking to you.”
“I see,” he murmured, feeling his lips twitch with amusement as he watched his pouting wife try to shift to the other side of the small cot only to stop with a pained groan and a “Stupid Nathan.”
“You’re hurt, wife,” Trace said, grabbing hold of the blanket and pulled, bringing his wife closer so that he could make sure that she was okay.
“Because you tried to send me away,” she muttered angrily as she tried to move back over to the other side of the bed only to give up with a sigh when he pulled her into his arms.
“Put me down,” Samantha demanded as he carried her to the table and placed her down on the edge so that she could glare at him.
“You should have gone with your brother,” Trace mumbled absently as he ran his gaze over her, taking in the generous curves outlined by the oversized shirt that she liked to sleep in before moving to her bare legs and-
“You’re hurt,” he said, more of a reminder to himself as he forced his mind away from just how badly he wanted to pull her back into his arms when he spotted the bruise already forming on the side of her leg as she sadly mumbled, “Stupid Nathan.”
“What happened, wife?” Trace asked, taking a knee in front of her so that he could examine her leg.
“I misjudged my ability to kick my brother’s ass,” she mumbled, making him bite back a smile that she probably wouldn’t appreciate as he gently ran his fi
ngers along her knee.
“How did you end up on the ground?” he asked as he somehow resisted the urge to turn his head so that he could kiss her thigh.
“I made a tactical error,” she said, sighing heavily as she shifted to get more comfortable while he knelt there, slowly exhaling as he tried not to think about how good it felt to touch her again.
“Does it hurt right now?” Trace asked, releasing a shaky breath as he struggled with the need to pull her closer only to clear his throat and look away.
He wanted her.
It was the reason why he’d stayed away from her because he was tempted, so fucking tempted to give in and take everything that she offered. She was soft, sweet, kind, and everything that he’d always wanted. She was everything that he’d fooled himself into believing that Mary was and so much more.
He didn’t want to need her like this, hated the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about her, hated needing to be near her, hated this pull that she had over him, and he hated the fact that she tempted him to forget about the only thing that had kept him whole in that tomb.
His revenge.
It was all that he had.
It was the only thing that mattered.
It was…
It was the only fucking thing that he had.
He didn’t belong in this world, didn’t fucking understand it, didn’t like it, and the only thing that should matter was seeing his father again and making the bitch pay for everything she did. Instead, all he wanted to do was to pull his wife into his arms and forget.
It was something that he couldn’t allow.
He knelt there, struggling to hold onto the anger that had allowed him to survive and-
“I don’t like the idea of you being alone,” she said, making his jaw clench.
“I’m not afraid of being alone,” Trace ground out as he glared at the wall, knowing that one look at her would break him.
“Then what are you afraid of?” Samantha asked as she took his face in her small hands, giving him no other choice but to look up at her as he struggled to hold onto the anger that had allowed him to survive, needing it so badly that the idea of letting it go terrified him only to feel himself soften when he looked into her beautiful brown eyes and…