The Bounty

19. Odd Behavior

[ 19. Odd Behavior ]

Hayes was being weird.

Weirder than usual, that was. Although he wouldn't let me out of his sight without tying my wrists to an unmovable object, he was far too relaxed with me. He kept trying to start quiet, casual conversation during dinner. I kept waiting for the ball to drop, for him to tell me to get in the chair and lights out forever.

But he was acting like we were just buddies, hanging out like this was normal. Well, I couldn't say that. He was still on edge, would get lost in his thoughts, and really didn't talk that much.

After he put dinner away and cleaned up with me sitting at the table, he nodded toward the bedroom and I followed silently. "What's wrong with you?" he asked. Either he'd only just caught onto my quiet existential crisis, or he was ignoring it up until that point.

"Nothing," I said, taking my usual spot on the bed.

He narrowed his eyes at me when I lifted my wrist over my head for him to tie up. "You're being weird," he said and he hesitated with the zip-tie in hand.

"So are you," I challenged.

Hayes didn't say anything to that. He just tied me up like usual and climbed over my body to take the other half of the bed. So this was the thing now? We were sleeping together like a twisted version of a married couple, one where half of the relationship was literally not allowed to leave? I sighed and tried to turn onto my side, my back turned to him. It was uncomfortable, but I was stubborn.

"I know you don't trust me, but I have my reasons for the things I've been doing."

I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure who fell asleep first, but nothing else was said for the rest of the night. My sleep was quiet and uninterrupted, and I didn't dream of anything. It felt like my imagination had ceased. I was not okay with dying anymore. It was fun and games at first. Let me see how much I can piss this guy off until he makes it quick and painless to get me to shut up. Or let's see if I can get my back broken one last time, for death's sake.

But I felt detached and scared.

It wasn't helping that he was dragging it out, toying with me like we were cat and mouse. Playing house and sleeping together and cooking meals was cool if I wasn't counting the minutes until my demise. Hayes was a bad guy.

When I woke up, he was sifting through his closet in search of something. I just watched for a moment with dead eyes, not announcing that I was awake. He reached up to the top shelf and pulled down an inconspicuous canvas tote box. I didn't move a muscle as he dropped it to the floor and glanced over at me.

"Good morning," he said, uncharacteristically chirpy.

I just blinked at him. He picked up the box and took it out of the room, leaving me to lay still. When he returned, he had his knife in hand and let me loose from the zip-tie. I didn't sit up, just brought my wrist to my chest like I always did, hoping to warm the blood in my arm and regain feeling in my fingers once again.

Hayes bit his cheek. "Big day ahead of us," he said and I felt my stomach fall. Did he mean...? "Come on, Vinnie. Breakfast's calling."

I rolled out of bed and followed him into the kitchen where he had all of the ingredients for a perfect breakfast spread on the counter: eggs, bacon, English muffins, all the works. I lingered in the doorway and glared at his back until he turned around.

"What?" he asked, looking truly clueless. "You said you like to cook."

With a huff, I bent down to get a pan from the cabinet I'd seen them in the night before. "You're a dick," I muttered, trying to decide which size pan would be best. In the corner of my eye, I saw his socked feet step close to me. I stood up to my full height, pan in hand, and he was standing right in front of me.