Page 18 of Stolen Summer

“Don’t move,” Cole ordered in his deep voice.

I rolled my eyes, but he couldn’t see it. “Where do you think I’m going? I can’t see a foot in front of me.”

“Give me just a—” A small beam of light speared from Cole’s hand. Not his hand, I realized, but his phone. He’d turned on the flashlight function. “There.”

“Just wonderful,” I mumbled dryly.

I couldn’t see perfectly, but I swore a smirk touched the corner of Cole’s lips before he said, “If you prefer the darkness, I can?—”

“Don’t think about it,” I cut in, the light flashing in my face, forcing me to squint. “Besides, I need to leave. Deactivate the security.”

He lowered the damn light so it hovered between us, casting shadows on our faces. “I can’t.”

“Don’t toy with me.”

“I’m not. It’s electronic. It runs on power, which, in case you haven’t noticed, we no longer have.”

A sinking feeling dropped in my gut. “You’re saying I’m stuck in here with you until the power comes back?” If I took half a second to think this through, his reasoning made sense. I just didn’t want it to be true.

Outside, a gust of wind battered against the house, wailing like a damn banshee predicting death and doom. Cole’s gaze shifted to the window behind me. “It appears that way.”

My outrage became a palpable thing inside me, pulsing. “Hell no. Override it or something.”

He didn’t balk. “It doesn’t work like that, Killer. Trust me, I’m about as thrilled as you are. I didn’t ask for you to come over and get trapped inside with me during the biggest storm this town’s had in over thirty years.”

This isn’t good. What am I going to do? I’d left without telling anyone. No one knew where I was.

I had to call my dad.

I reached into my back pocket for my phone, but it wasn’t there. I checked the other pocket and groaned, remembering I’d left my phone sitting in my bedroom, completely useless to me right now. I rubbed at my temples, and the dull ache that had been pestering me most of the day grew insistent.

The light from Cole’s phone beamed up to the ceiling between us. “Let me use your phone. I need to call my dad.”

Cole spun his phone around and swiped a finger up to unlock the screen. His brows bunched together. “I don’t have a signal.”

My stomach twisted into knots. “Cole, you don’t understand. I need to get home. My dad is there…” I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“See for yourself.” He held out his phone.

I snatched the device, feeling sick when I glanced at the screen shining over my face in the dark. The no-signal symbol popped out at me from the corner. No. No. No. I tapped on the phone icon and quickly punched in my dad’s number, knowing it wouldn’t work, but I had to try. I just had to.

Nothing happened. No busy tone. No endless ringing. No voicemail.

My shoulders sagged as I handed him back his phone, my mind whirling.

“Neither of us might like it, but you’re stuck here, Killer.” The words hung in the air, so heavy, so dismal.

I swallowed. “This can’t be happening.”

His jaw flexed, and I suspected he was about as pleased as I was with the situation. “The best thing we can do is wait it out. I’m sure the power will be back on soon.”

“You’ve never been through a hurricane before, have you?” I snorted when he said nothing. “It could be a week or more before the power is restored. It depends on how hard we’re hit, and if their prediction is accurate, we’re in for the long haul. This is all your fault,” I hissed, desperate to blame someone other than me. I had all these unspent emotions.

Cole went to the fridge, the flashlight on his phone whirling over the room. “I fail to see how you getting stuck at my house has anything to do with me. You’re the one who broke in. A matter we still have yet to discuss.”

I grabbed the stupid shirt off the table where I’d left it and hurled it at him. “This. If you hadn’t insisted on me returning your shirt, I wouldn’t be here right now. And I washed it,” I included as if adding salt to a wound.

He caught the wadded material, the fridge door closing on its own. “A shirt you wouldn’t have had to borrow if you hadn’t been skinny-dipping in my pool.”

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