Buy My Time ✓

Part 5: Nowhere To Hide

"A pity," he lowered his already growl-like voice, "I wanted to see you struggle in those heels."

"If only you knew the torture that comes in dressing to perfection" I huffed.

I was nervous. Terrified. Exhausted. You name it.

I had basically just ran a marathon, something I had never done before and never wanted to do. Adding to that, I was a bit hefty at the stomach. Ya girl loved her meals.

He traced a path down my torso with his eyes, "If only you knew what true torture was."

What?

I laughed, "Oh yeah, funny! Great joke!"

I thought that maybe if I got on his good side, he would give me all the time I need. And heck, maybe if we'd become friends, he'd drop trying to terrify the mess out of me altogether.

But I could tell I was thinking about this all wrong.

"I can read your thoughts, y'know?"

I blinked.

"It's okay to be afraid. You should be."

He hopped off the rail.

He was so close to me.

He grabbed my chin and made me look up at him, "Hm..."

He walked past me after a second, tapping my shoulder with my heels, "Put 'em on."

When did he grab my heels?!

"W-what?"

"Play again tomorrow?" he asked.

"But I thou-"

"You didn't ask nicely, dear."

And with that he snapped his fingers, a motorcycle immediately coming into view.

He threw his leg over the seat and revved the engine, causing me to back up and close my ears.

He chuckled darkly, not even bothering to put on a helmet as he took his planted foot off the sidewalk and onto the gas, "Until next time, Zyla."

He knew my name?

He left it at that and drove off.

Why was everything about him so dangerous?

•••

"Wake up pumpkin, I got some waffles and bacon ready for you."

I rubbed my eyes.

Right.

I threw up at Yolarie's door yesterday and she insisted I stayed the night.

I was just happy she was alive.

"Thanks Yoyo."

"Get dressed. You have work, remember?"

"Oh my goodness!" I hurried to sit up but got up too quickly, causing myself an immediate headache. Too much to drink last night.

Yolarie shook her head and closed the door with a laugh. Leaving me to still question whether she's my mom or my best friend. She was always looking out for me.

I sighed as I looked around the room. I picked up a picture in a silver frame. It showed Yolarie beside her girlfriend, whom was in a hospital bed at the time.

I had to admit, her girlfriend was a pretty hot Asian babe. Her braces were shining in that smile as Yolarie's glossy lips were pressed against her head.

They were happy, as always, and ever since since her girlfriend died, Yolarie's done nothing but try and be happy for her sake.

Yoyo was a soldier. That was for sure.

I had already lifted my shirt over my head and pulled off my shorts when I caught a dark figure in my peripheral vision.

I backed into the wall and I knew better not to scream. It was him.

He was just casually sitting on the edge of the bed with his hands clasped between his spread legs.

He wasn't looking at me though, oddly enough. His head was aimed at the floor.

"You can continue," he said.

His voice was deep enough to scare godzilla, I was certain of it.

I slowly grabbed a random pair of jeans and a large shirt. I didn't care what I wore, I just needed to hurry and clothe myself and try to get him out of this damn house.

"Fuck," I whispered to myself.
How did he find me? The last thing I need is something to happen to Yolarie when I'm not here.

"Ah, such a filthy mouthed woman," he said, standing when he sensed that I was dressed.

I grabbed a nearby book and threw it at him, which he caught and placed back on the table effortlessly.

"Aren't you going to thank me?"

I looked away from him, "For?"

"I killed those men last night who were harassing you."

I stayed silent.

He pulled his hood off and those scary eyes found my rather fearful ones, yet again.

He trapped me between his arms against the wall, lowering his head down to my neck to send a shiver down my spine with his breath. It was cool as ice.

"I think..." he mumbled as I started to shake.

"It's playtime."

•••

"Why are you eating so fast, Zyla?"

"No reason," I responded with my mouth full.

She folded napkins and held it to my face, "spit it out."

I sighed and spat out the food.

"Is it him?"

Damn you, Yolarie. Always knowing shit.

"Nah," I chugged my orange juice desperately and set the empty glass on the table, letting out a loud burp.

She shook her head and turned on the news.

As it played in the background, she looked towards me. "You're biting the dead skin off your lip again."

"I am not," I scoffed.

She handed me some chapstick, "Look, if it's about that creepy guy. We have him handled. The FBI found him yesterday. He's being sent to prison as we speak."

I choked on literal air.

'Oh no he's not' I thought. Wrong man.

"Yeah, that's great," I laughed.

She squinted at me and we both ended up turning our attention to the TV.

News Reporter: "So you saw who was behind this?"

A random guy: "Yes, it was some brown woman in a stripper dress. She caused five deaths yesterday."

Our eyes widened as we saw my face appear on the screen.

News Reporter: "The local SWAT team has ran the DNA tests and the results do conclude this murderer is Zyla Moore and they will be taking her in today. Please stay on the watch."

Yolarie muted the TV and rubbed the creases forming on her forehead.

If she's stressed, I knew I was definitely in trouble.

I looked towards her, crying, "What do I do?"

Even as I asked this open-ended question, I couldn't help but think of a clock ticking.

Him.

It was all a matter of time.

Just how much longer would I have to run?