Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel #4)(37)

He’d either get sick of dealing with her baggage, get sick of her, find someone else, or die, leaving her behind to deal with no longer having him in her life. She couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to do it. There was a reason why she didn’t allow herself to get close to her clients. It was also the reason why she’d cut ties with everyone as soon as she moved on to a new job. She never wanted to deal with the kind of pain that went along with losing someone that she cared about again. She’d already dealt with enough loss in her life and didn’t need anymore. She should have remembered that this morning instead of looking for an excuse to prolong her goodbyes.

Now the bastard was downstairs with her purse. He had her ID, money, credit cards, and keys and she was left here fuming as she tried to figure out a way to get her stuff and get the hell out of here. She needed to do it before he figured out another way to keep her here and she was left with no choice but to beg him to stay with her for another night. Since that wasn’t going to happen, she needed to figure out a way to get the basement door open and quickly. It was times like this that she wished she’d made friends with the criminal sort so that she’d know how to pick this damn lock. Then she could go downstairs and kick his ass!

“Asshole,” she muttered again, simply because it gave her something to do as she tried to think of a way to-

“Now, that wasn’t very nice,” the bastard that she was going to kill with her bare hands said as he opened the basement door and leaned against the doorframe.

Eyes narrowing, she quickly looked him over, hoping to find her purse, but there was nothing in his hands. That was fine with her, she thought as she pushed past him, half-expecting him to stop her. When he simply stepped aside and let her walk past him, she decided that she could just as easily ransack his room as she could kick his ass.

“You’ll never find it,” he said, chuckling as he followed her downstairs.

“Uh huh,” she said, pausing at the foot of the stairs as she surveyed the large finished basement.

Unlike the rest of the house that looked like it was stuck back in the 1950s, this room looked modern. It looked more comfortable and it definitely was more guy friendly. The loveseat by the back wall was large and looked comfortable, as did the bed, which was neatly made. That shocked her, but not as much as the fact that the rest of the room was clean and tidy. Given how much Christofer seemed to hate doing household chores, she’d assumed that his room would have resembled something out of a frat house.

Instead his room was clean and everything seemed to have a place. There were no posters of scantily clad women on the walls, empty beer cans littering the floor or the smell of food rotting away somewhere in the corner. Then again, there wasn’t much to leave on the floor, she realized as she looked around the room and noted that besides the laptop computer, some art supplies and an insane amount of books lined up against the walls, there wasn’t anything personal in the room.

The only furniture in the room was the bed, a small dresser, a large refrigerator in the corner and a few bookshelves that were crammed full of books. She’d seen hotel rooms that looked homier than this room. As far as she knew, he’d been living here all of his life, but it didn’t show. It looked more like he was just passing through. It made her heart break a little more for him.

He was living in a town where he was obviously not wanted, had no friends, hid out in the barn most of the time working, and spent whatever free time that he had making sure that his sister was taken care of. Well, his version of taking care of her, she amended, pursing up her lips in thought as she looked the room over again.

“How exactly do you plan on finding it?” he asked, walking past her as he pulled off his shirt, revealing the incredible torso that she may have enjoyed snuggling up against last night.

“By tearing your room apart piece by piece until I find my purse. Then I’m going to beat you with it, say goodbye to Marta, kick your ass again and then leave,” she said, somehow managing to look away when all she wanted to do was to walk up to him, wrap her arms around him, and soak in the comfort that only he could give her one last time before she left for good.

“That sounds like fun,” he said around a yawn as he flopped down across the bed on his stomach. “Just try not to wake me up, okay, mein Schatz?” he said, sounding amused when he should be frightened.

And what the hell did mein Schatz mean anyway? She considered asking him, but she didn’t want to take a chance giving him something else to torment her with. Sending one last scowl in his direction, she made her way to what she assumed was his bathroom. After a quick check, she decided that her purse wasn’t in there so she moved on to his closet with no luck.

Fifteen minutes later she was ready to kill the bastard. She’d searched everywhere with absolutely no luck. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, she thought as her gaze narrowed on the refrigerator in the corner, the refrigerator that was currently locked and no doubt held her purse.

“Open the fridge,” she demanded as she walked over to the bed.

“No,” he said, shifting onto his back with a sigh as he settled in once again for a nap.

“Just give me my purse so that I can leave,” she bit through clenched teeth, praying that he cut the shit and just let her go, because she seriously didn’t know how much longer it would be until she snapped and did something that would require her to apologize to Marta and probably face a little jail time.