𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 || 𝐣.𝐚.

009 | 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐥

𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 throbbed with an ache that pounded in time with the heavy bass of the music blaring around him. He scrunched his eyes tightly, his face twisting in discomfort, trying to piece together where he was. It didn't take him long to realize something was very wrong. His limbs felt heavy and bound, and when he tried to shift, a rough scrape of rope against his wrists and ankles stopped him cold.

Panic clawed its way up his throat. He forced his eyes open, squinting as he took in the dim light of the kitchen. This kitchen wasn't familiar—strange countertops, walls bare of any comforting signs of a typical home.

His heart hammered in his chest, pulsing hotly against the ropes that cut into his skin as he strained against them, testing each knot. But they held fast, and no matter how hard he struggled, they weren't giving. Muted screams tore from his throat, muffled by something stuffed deep into his mouth and held in place by duct tape.

He thrashed, his eyes darting frantically around the room until they landed on a figure moving in the adjacent living room—a figure he recognized. Jacob. The mailman froze, horror twisting his insides as he watched Jacob roam about the room with eerie calmness, seemingly oblivious to his muffled cries. Desperation took over, and Austin screamed louder, pulling against his restraints with renewed energy.

The ropes dug into his skin, rubbing it raw, but he barely felt the pain, too consumed by the need to get someone's attention. He kept screaming until his voice went hoarse, and finally, Jacob turned around, casting a slow, disinterested glance over his shoulder.

At first, Jacob's expression was unreadable. Then, with a faint smirk, he sauntered over to a stereo set against the wall, crouched down, and cranked the volume up higher. The music filled the room, drowning out Austin's cries and blanketing the space in a wall of sound. Jacob took his time adjusting the volume, giving the knob one last twist before he finally straightened and turned, his eyes meeting Austin's with an unsettling calm. He strode back to the kitchen, his steps measured until he stood directly in front of Austin.

The mailman's face went pale as Jacob leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms and regarding him with cold, simmering anger. For a moment, Jacob just stared, and Austin felt like a mouse caught in the gaze of a snake. There were so many things Jacob wanted to say—he could almost feel the words building up inside him, things he'd wanted to tell Austin since the first time he'd seen him lurking around Y/n. But words felt useless now, weak compared to what he was feeling. Finally, Jacob's gaze drifted down, noticing the angry red marks on Austin's wrists, raw from his frantic attempts to escape. He let out a small chuckle, amused by the struggle.

"Oh, so you're actually trying," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music. With a calm deliberation, he turned, walked back to the stereo, and clicked it off. The sudden silence was jarring. Jacob returned, his eyes meeting Austin's as he reached out and ripped the duct tape from his mouth in one harsh motion, pulling out the cloth that was stuffed in his mouth immediately after.

Austin sputtered, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and fury. "What the hell—" he gasped, still fighting for breath.

Jacob tilted his head, his expression dark. "Speak," he commanded, his voice flat, leaving no room for refusal. Austin's mouth opened, ready to throw a nasty retort, something to claw back his dignity. But he froze when he caught sight of Jacob's expression—a dark, chilling glint in his eyes that was entirely foreign. Jacob's face was inches from his own, the menace in his gaze razor-sharp. "Try and tell me," the blond began, his voice low, brimming with barely-contained fury, "why I shouldn't gut you like a fish right here and now, because so help me God, I'm lookin' for any reason to." He admitted.