Free Sahara (A Night Fire Novel Book 3) by TM Watkins

a light sleep. My eyes were sore from the not crying and the idiot that was thumping on the door woke the baby. She cried until I picked her up and soothed her, settling her with an unscheduled bottle.
    “Eden, unlock the door please.”
    I ignored him.
    “I'm sorry, okay? I've not lived a life where I've had to answer to anyone.”
    Well that was clearly bullshit, he would have had to answer to his parents before he became an adult.
    “If you're not going to talk to me or open the door can you at least turn your phone back on?”
    Not bloody likely.
    “Please open the door.”
    No, you'll smile at me and I'll crumble. A thunderous thump shook the door, making the baby jump with fright and start crying again.
    “Open the fucking door Eden.”
    Wow, definitely not opening the door now. Jeez, who would have thought that playful Fraser had a dark streak.
    “Fine.” he spat angrily.
    And then there was silence. He left us in peace for the rest of the night or rather, the rest of the morning. If he was in the house I wouldn't know. Once the baby was asleep and in her cot I packed my bags and set them by the door. I might have said I was going home but I think in this situation a hotel will be more ideal.

Chapter Nine
     
    I woke with a fright, bolting up from the mattress long before my mind had time to realize what was going on. Bleary eyed I looked around the room. It was morning but as usual the external shades were down. I had left the curtain open so that I knew when the sun was up yet I had slept right through. My eyes scanned the room, gasping at the door.
    “Shit.” I whispered.
    The door was open, my barricade pushed aside and the baby was not in the cot. My bags were also missing. This, I was not expecting. I had expected for a war of words in the morning as I walked out and left him holding the baby. But I'd been outplayed. He had waited until I had fallen asleep and then set about changing things to suit his own needs.
    I stood from the bed and quietly opened the draws, empty. All of the baby's things were gone except for the cot which wouldn't have fit through the crack that he'd slipped through. Bastard.
    As I got up from the bed I realized that all I had to wear was my bed clothes, so not appropriate when I had to face him but I had no choice. The bastard had my bags which meant that he had all of my clothes. The house was quiet as I slipped through the door, no wonderful scent of breakfast, no indication of life aside from myself.
    That was until I heard a splash. It was light but it was enough in a quiet house. I wandered down to the bathroom, finding Fraser kneeling in front of the bathtub. He scooped a little tub of water and trickled it over the baby as she laid on her little bath mat.
    “Where are my bags?”
    Fraser turned and looked at me from over his shoulder, turning back without a word. I narrowed my eyes and turned out of the room. Two can play this game. First thing I needed to find was my car keys and my wallet. Both of which were miraculously gone from where I had left them last night. What a surprise my mind groaned out as I leaned on a wall.
    I heard the gurgle of water going down the drain, Fraser walked out with the baby wrapped in a towel. Like he knew how to play this game better than me, he was shirtless and in jeans that clung to his backside and barely hanging onto his hips. He ignored me and continued straight past me and into the kitchen. I padded across the floor to peek into the kitchen, seeing the change table set back up at the table.
    He dried the baby and dressed her, putting her onto the play mat that was on the floor to one side. Then he stood upright, leaning against the table with his arms crossed. Staring at me. Wordlessly waiting for me to say something. Well it wasn't going to happen. I'd rather search the entire house and yard before I started this particular conversation.
    I turned out of the room and walked into his, looking under the bed, in the built in