Psychopath (Stiles AU)

Chapter 10

Stiles was cleaning his knives when there was a sudden knock at the front door. 

He dropped the items in his hands, them clattering to the counter top as he furrowed his eyebrows. He turned to face (Y/n), finger coming up to his lips as a way to tell her to keep her mouth shut. He could see her swallowing hard as he grabbed a roll of tape from his left, making his way over to her. 

He ripped a piece from the roll, placing it securely across her lips.

Sure, he trusted her to keep her mouth shut by now, but he could never be too careful. He wasn't completely sure of what she was capable of just yet. If she were to scream, it'd blow his cover completely and he was not about to go to prison. 

There was another knock, this one much harsher and lasting a lot longer, and Stiles let out a huff of annoyance. 

"I'm coming!" He shouted, tossing the tape aside and brushing his hands on his jeans before heading toward the stairs. 

When he got to the front door, he tugged it open, only to reveal three of his fathers deputies. 

"Uh," He glanced at all three of them. "My father isn't in, at the moment-"

"We're not here for your father, Stiles." One spoke, evidently eyeing behind Stiles at his surroundings, and Stiles couldn't quite figure out what he was doing. 

"What are you doing here, then?" He asked, and when the deputies all took a step forward, he almost wished he didn't. 

"We have a search warrant," The deputy in front spoke, holding a slip of paper where Stiles could see it. "And we'd like to take a look around. We have our suspicion that there might be something you're not telling us. That maybe it might be you that is kidnapping and killing all these girls. Of course, it surely isn't you, right Stiles? You'd have nothing to hide." 

Stiles balled his hands into fists in an attempt to stop them from shaking as a sick feeling was sent to his stomach, but he somehow managed to keep his cool. If they suspected anything, he was screwed. 

"'Course it isn't," He muttered, laughing. "Feel free, come in, I don't care." 

He stood aside, allowing the deputies to walk into the house, all the while he tried to keep his breathing at a normal pace, only worrying about what was going to happen if they found (Y/n) in the basement. He shut the front door then leaned up against the back of it, his head resting against the wood while he shut his eyes, letting out a deep breath. 

"Who are you?" One of the deputies suddenly asked, and Stiles' eyes snapped open again. 

"(Y/n)," A voice answered, and Stiles thought his ears were fooling him. He shuffled into the lounge room, and sure enough there she was, sitting on the couch. Her eyes snapped to Stiles, "I'm a friend."

He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, eyes slowly making their way over to the deputies, "She's visiting from out of town. My mother was friends with hers before we moved here." 

Of course that was total lies, but a little petty lie is stopping him from going to prison so yeah, it isn't so bad. 

The deputies' eyes narrowed on her as she nodded at the three of them. One shrugged, mumbling something incoherent to Stiles before they all moved on and began to continue looking around the house. 

When they'd left the lounge room and moved into the kitchen, Stiles made his way over to (Y/n). Before he had time to speak up, she did. 

"I pushed a cabinet across the basement door. I don't think they're gonna find it." 

His eyes narrowed on her, and she smiled softly at him but soon adverted her eyes to the floor, as if looking at him made her nervous. He couldn't quite figure out why she was doing this for him, but he didn't bother saying anything further or questioning her. 

He simply sat down beside her until the deputies returned sometime later. 

"It would seem we were mistaken," One of them spoke, "Thank you for your time." 

Stiles wanted to let out a sigh of relief, maybe even hug (Y/n) for helping him, but he remained still. He nodded at the deputies, and they began to leave the living room. 

When he heard the front door close, Stiles turned to (Y/n) with wide eyes, "How the hell did you get out of the basement?" 

Her eyes immediately flicked to her lap where her fingers were fiddling with each other, nervously answering him, "You uh, you didn't tape up my hands and you left the key to the lock on my ankle where I could reach it. I heard the police talking, figured I might as well help... help you out, I guess." 

Stiles opened his mouth to thank her, but he couldn't. He can't be weak for this girl. She saved his ass from prison, but she was just another victim. 

He's not getting attached. He won't get attached. 

Stiles stood, roughly taking her arm into his grip and pulling her to her feet, "Come on. I'm making sure I keep the key to your lock far away from where you can get your grubby hands on it." 

And as he dragged her back toward the basement, he tried to think his usual thoughts. The ones about harming her, what a blade would feel like against her skin, or what kind of red her blood would shine under the light, but all he could think about how soft her skin felt under his hands. 

He's not getting attached.