The Devils Bargain | stuilly | billyxstu | stuxbilly

Chapter 18

Stu woke up to the smell of Karen's cooking, and they kicked off the day with breakfast and small talk. During their chat, Stu spun a web of lies about being from Lansing, Michigan, not Woodsboro, and how he was going to a college not too far away for animal studies.

Which just gave him an out if he ever got a little excited about the anatomy of an animal; it was the topic he knew the most about since he grew up hunting with his dad and Billy, and he's skinned enough to know the details, so Karen would be none the wiser to his lies.

The day passed by, and nothing super exciting happened as Stu gathered the courage to call Billy. Hanging out with Karen at her job, he wore a jacket and hat, trying not to be too recognizable. He chatted with customers, pushing his horror movie suggestions, even though not many people were into them. Stu didn't mind; he thought his ideas were killer and people just needed to get some taste.

As the day wound down, Karen offered Stu her place again. Since he hadn't figured out where he was staying yet and since he hadn't tried to fuck or kill her yet, he figured she must trust him. Stu had grown to enjoy Karen's company, maybe even in the same way he enjoyed Tatum's company.

It was nice to have someone else to exist with, and though he knew that deep down he didn't really care about her past what she could do for him, he had no reason to hurt her, so for now, he just enjoyed having a friend who wasn't Billy.

Stu accepted the offer, not keen on living on the streets, and the old leather couch and Karen's food beat any shame he felt about taking someone's kindness.

Once they got back home, Stu finally kicked himself forward and grabbed the phone, sitting idly and yet so intimidatingly in its receiver. Knowing he didn't want this kind of conversation to be within earshot of another breathing human being, Stu opted to hide in the bathroom, taking solace in the white walls and dirty mirrors.

He stared down at the phone and its rubber keys. Stu remembered the number, even though he ditched the letter at the motel. Maybe it was not a good thing to have left that there since it had their names on it, but what could the police possibly do with it? The digits were etched in his brain after a whole day of typing and deleting.

He punched in the numbers, feeling the nerves creep in, and stared at the screen before hitting the call button. Holding the phone up to his ear, his foot tapped on the bathroom floor as it rang. He expected Billy's possibly angry, definitely disappointed drawl to come down the phone, but instead, he got a declined call beep.

His heart jumped, his hands trembling; he must have messed up the number. Stu carefully put the number in again, triple-checked, and pressed call again, and the ringing felt like it was mocking him. The phone clutched in his hand, and he bit his lip, ignoring the sting. The second declined call hit harder than the first.

Sitting quietly on the toilet, Stu gripped the phone, realising Billy's silent message: he didn't want to see him again; he was ignoring him. Frustration burned, but there was nothing to target, so it just spun around in his head. Stu refused to break down, but the pressure in his chest and the sting behind his eyes betrayed the turmoil he was holding back.

A knock echoed through the bathroom, pulling Stu from his thoughts. He shot a glare at the door, not in the mood for half-hearted comfort or to be in the company of anyone but his sadness. "Are you okay in there, Charles?" Karen's voice came through the door, but Stu couldn't muster the words. The burning behind his eyes threatened his composure, and his walls were crumbling.

Since he had made the mistake of not bothering to lock the door, Karen fiddled with the handle, and it creaked open slowly. Her black hair peeked through, her brown eyes landing on Stu, who looked defeated. His gaze returned to the phone, his mind swirling with reasons why Billy was giving him the cold shoulder.