Page 33 of Tethered Souls
“Shit!” The word explodes out of me as I’m tempted to throw a fireball at the wall of this damn ensuite. My foot is perched on the closed toilet seat, my dress is off as it kept getting in the damn way, and my fingers are groping around my pussy trying to get hold of the damnfuckingknife that has disappearedall the way up in there.
I knew I should’ve taken it out as soon as Varius turned the car around, but I hesitated in case he had eyes on me in the rearview mirror. Then his mom came out and ushered me inside, and I had a choice to make – waddle like a duck to stop the balisong from slipping out and dropping at my feet in the most embarrassing meet-his-mom ever or shove it in all the way and squeeze it tight.
I dumbly chose the latter.
And now it’s stuck.
I can’t get it out.
And dear gods, I’m trying not to panic.
Bending down to my phone perched on the kitchen sink, already open on a call to Dayne, I hiss, “I can’t reach it!”
He’s still howling in laughter, which is what he’s been doing for the past five minutes, since I first called him.
“Dayne!”
His laughter doesn’t stop, and purple fire crackles across my fingers. I wish I had the power to send it through the phone and right into his face.
But I don’t.
Ugh.
“Will you laugh about this later and just fuckinghelp me,please?”
His howls grow louder. “If you go to...the ER, don’t get into...a MRI…” I can’t make out the rest of his words, but I highly doubt they’re useful.
Clenching my teeth, I flip my phone the finger. He can’t see it, but me telling him to, “Fuck off,” is just going to make him even more hysterical.
Giving up on my utterly useless best friend, I end the call and try once more to grope around my vagina.
But my arm is too fucking short. I don’t have the reach to hit the happy spot, let alone manage the correct angle to grab the knife. If I was thinking at the time, I would’ve told him to hold up and tie a string to it, but my fucking brain took a walk, slipped on the soaking wet mess I made all over the floor, careened right into a wall, and passed the fuck out.
“Don’t speak unless I give you permission. Don’t ask questions. Don’t be anything but a fucking sex doll,” I growl beneath my breath as my fingers brush the end of the knife.
“I should’ve slammed the car door right into his face.” Ignoring the whole, his face was in the driver’s seat and safe from any door, I visualize his nose bleeding and both his eyes blackened.
“I’m going to use this knife to stab him in the face.” If I can get the damn thing out. But I can’t get a fucking grip on it.
“Fuck!” I grunt as I try various angles, cursing Varius with each one that fails. I’m just starting to think that maybe I should suck it up and ask his mom for a pair of pliers when the door opens behind me.
I freeze, my eyes the only movement as they grow wide.
No.
Please no.
“I told you not to make me come get you,” Varius says, his voice low and dangerous.
My spine snapping straight, I turn to face him. “You wouldn’t have tocome get meif you weren’t such a fuckingneanderthal,” I bite out.
His dark eyes narrow as he stands there wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. Remembering the respect I’m supposed to talk to him with, I add, “Sir.”
A small light flickers behind his eyes, a bit of humor perhaps, before they dip to my pussy, and realization crosses his stupidly handsome face. “Come here,” he says, looking back up at me.
I cross my arms so I don’t give in to the urge to slap him. I want to tell him to go fuck himself with a pineapple, but we are not on equal footing. I can either be a lady or a slave, and I am not dumb enough to choose the latter.
I start to paste on a fake-as-fuck smile when he asks, “Does it hurt to walk?”
