The Bounty

8. A Trick of the Light

at this point i'm pretty sure i'm not making the deadline
but i'm too invested in this story to give up on it
lmk ur thoughts?!?!?

[ 8. A Trick of the Light ]

The last trick-or-treater came around nine o'clock according to the clock on the wall.

Hayes agreed to my smoke request so long as we waited until the kids stopped coming. I wasn't sure why he agreed at all, but I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I waited since that was all I could do. The house was silent and I feared Hayes fell asleep before holding up his end of the deal. My mind raced with ways I could get out of this situation. Would he unbind my wrists so I could smoke or would he hold it for me like spoon-feeding an infant? Would we be going outside where I might be able to make a break for it? Surely, he knew I was a flight risk and couldn't be trusted near an escape route.

Why the fuck was I even here?

That was going to be my first question. He could tell me the truth since it was going to die with me.

I was exhausted. My body was buzzing from sitting in the same position and my ass was numb from the wooden chair offering no comfort. The headache I'd woken up with had faded to a dull ache, surely to be satiated by my coming nicotine fix. The underneath of my eyes was burning and I fought the urge to close them altogether. Sleep threatened to overtake me and it would soon win the battle if Hayes didn't come the fuck back.

"Hayes," I croaked, my throat feeling a bit froggy from the exhaustion.

The response was silence from the depths of the house. I wasn't sure how big the house was or how many floors there were. All I could see in my direct eyeline was the doorway to the kitchen, the TLC living room, and the mysteriously sunny room. I started to call for him again but he emerged from around the corner.

Shirtless.

My mouth clamped shut. He sauntered over. His hair was wet and pushed back from his forehead. There were tattoos on his chest and shoulders. My eyes trailed down the curves of his pectoral muscles, to the dip just above his hips, then down his rippling abdomen. I'd barely registered the trail of hair that beckoned the naysayer in me when he spoke.

"Are you drooling, little thief?"

"No," I said hastily, looking back up to his face.

He didn't stop until he was directly in front of me and dropped to kneel at my feet. I could smell his body wash, musky and clean, invading my senses as he pulled a pocket knife from the pocket of his joggers. Hayes looked up at me and my stomach fell. I swallowed nervously.

The zip-ties tickled my ankles when cut, freeing my legs from their prison against the chair legs. I instantly pushed my legs out and sighed in relief. He stood up and circled around me, grabbing one of my wrists but not slicing the tie. I stood up slowly, his fingers still pressed to the inside of my wrist where my veins ran like streams and my heartbeat thrummed lightly in the current.

"We're going on the back deck," he said. "If you're thinking of screaming, don't forget I have this knife."

I didn't respond, more focused on stretching my legs out. Hayes waited only a moment before he tugged on my wrists from behind. My body swayed as I turned around. He didn't let go of my wrists as he led me towards the sunny room, now dark with moon-lit shadows cast over the tiles.

It turned out to literally be a sort of sunroom. There was a more homely feel to this room, down to the wicker furniture and star-shaped prisms dangling in the windows. I wondered if Hayes spent much time in this room since it was the most personality I'd seen in this house so far.