[ 15. For The Birds ]

Waking up in a bed, albeit bound to the headboard, was a thousand times better than waking up in a moving vehicle post-chloroform.

My eyes adjusted to the sunlight breaking through the blinds and I whined, turning my head as deep into the pillows as it could go. The memory of last night's activities came crashing down on me like a ton of bricks and the ache stemming from my waist was all too apparent. Another whine rumbled from my throat, this time louder and more prevalent off the walls of the bedroom.

"That's enough of that."

I jumped, eyes shooting open towards the doorway. Hayes stood, leaning on the frame in all of his glory, looking not even the slightest bit normal in the scheme of things. I narrowed my eyes. "My arm is numb. Could I switch?" I asked, truly not feeling anything from the shoulder up. He just stared at me. "Um... please?"

He sighed and strode towards me, pulling a knife from his pocket. Did he just carry one on him at all times? It felt like every time the situation called for it, there one was. I smelled his body wash as he leaned over me, bare chest inches away from my face, and sliced the zip-tie. He didn't move to re-tie the other arm.

I pushed myself up and held my hand in my lap, cold to the touch and completely numb. Hayes took a seat in the chair next to the bed, but still didn't say anything.

"So, what's our schedule looking like?" I asked, trying to make light of the fact that these were my last hours alive. "Breakfast and then a little—" I stopped to raise my arm in a hack-and-slash stabbing motion.

Hayes's eyes were trained on the window and he didn't even react to my joke. I twiddled my thumbs, feeling equal parts anxious and awkward while he proceeded not to say a word. What was he thinking? Did us having sex change the trajectory of his plans? Before, at least he'd clap back with some kind of snippy remark or shut down my lame attempts at cracking a joke. The silence was starting to freak me out.

"Are you... okay?"

His lashes fluttered like the wings of a dove as his eyes fell on me. "Yes," he said. I watched his gaze skim my body and I wondered if he'd had his fix. If I was good for him like he was for me. "Are you okay? Like, are you in pain at all?"

I glanced down at my waist. "Just a little sore," I said. "Nothing I can't handle."

He furrowed his eyebrows, jaw set and eyes almost narrowed. I was brought back to the night before when he was kneeling over me with sweat glistening over his muscular chest and pounding into me. If I wasn't raw and aching, I'd suggest a round two just for the road. He went a little too rough on me, though, so it wasn't plausible.

"I'll fix you something to eat," he said, standing up from the chair and lingering as I rolled out of bed, wincing slightly. He looked like he wanted to say something about it, but bit his tongue.

I used the restroom and then he led me back to the kitchen where I was instructed to sit back on the counter again, just like the night before. Hayes pulled some disgusting frozen breakfast sandwiches out of the freezer and stuck them in the microwave before leaning against the stove and watching me.

"You know it's not hard to make your own," I said, nodding towards the microwave. "Probably better for you than all of those preservatives, too."

He shrugged. "I don't like to cook. These are easy."

When the beeping indicated our not-so-plentiful breakfast was ready, he prepared them both on a plate and we settled at the breakfast nook. Even though I'd complained about it, I scarfed it down like I'd never eaten before. I was starving, after all, since last night's activities worked up a killer appetite and one frozen dinner was hardly enough to sustain me.

"Would you like another?" he asked.

"Do you have anything with, like, nutrients?"

Hayes squinted at me before gesturing towards the kitchen. "Help yourself," he said. I stood slowly, not wanting to make sudden movements because my ass hurt as it was. I felt his eyes on me as I opened his fridge, frowning at the bare shelves. It was the same in the cabinets, hardly anything except heat-and-serve meals and boxed macaroni.

"How do you look like that if this is what you live off of?" I asked, turning around with my hands on my hips. Hayes's eyes were stuck on my legs, specifically my bare thighs, only barely covered by my underwear.

He looked up. "Well, I like to eat out."

Instantly my cheeks heated. I learned that last night, I thought and immediately cursed myself. If Hayes realized the double meaning, he didn't acknowledge it. "Well, it's too bad you don't have any ingredients for sauce, 'cause I'd make you an old recipe I learned from the best," I said, closing the cabinet and settling with just heating up another gross breakfast sandwich.

"You cook?"

"Sometimes," I said. "I don't know a whole lot, but I like to try ideas I see online."

Hayes seemed so relaxed, I had a brief, fleeting thought of booking it out the front door. It was broad daylight. Surely, I had a better chance of finding help than I did the night before. I was so sore all over, though, and I wouldn't make it very fast. Even when I was out in the free world, after a vigorous night of fucking, my morning runs were always a bit laggier than normal.

The microwave beeped and I got my food out, taking my seat across from him. We didn't speak while I ate and enjoyed having both of my wrists free from the zip-ties for a bit. There were red marks and scratches from being tied and the wrap had fallen off of my burnt wrist in my sleep. It didn't look too bad. I hadn't looked too closely at myself in the mirror to see if that guy that kicked the hell out of me left any marks, but I could feel the remnants of the beat down.

"How can I convince you to let me make a phone call before you kill me?"

Hayes furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. "I can't let you do that."

I expected that much. "She won't go to the police, I can assure you. I just need to tie up some loose ends and make sure my people are taken care of," I said, the reality starting to sink in slowly but surely. My eyes averted downward. "And I... I need to say goodbye. I know how much it hurts to lose someone without saying goodbye."

Those brown eyes were boring into my forehead but I didn't look up from my empty plate. "I don't know," he said, but he looked like he was seriously thinking about it. I felt my shoulders slump, knowing that probably meant I probably wasn't going to get my goodbyes.  "Just let me think about it."

A sudden burst of red hot fury bounced against the walls of my chest. "It's not like we've got all year, Hayes," I snapped. "It's a 'yes' or 'no' because, by the looks of it, I'll be dead in a few hours."

Hayes didn't look surprised by my outburst. In fact, it only made me angrier how unbothered he seemed. He sipped his coffee and paused as if I wasn't finished. I wasn't, but I knew when to shut my mouth.

"There's been a change in plans."

"I can literally only imagine what that means."

Hayes glanced over his shoulder and huffed sheepishly. "Forgot my handyman's coming by to look at some DIYs I've been working on," he said. I stared at him blankly.

"You're really bad at this," I deadpanned.

"So I've got to clean that up," he said, ignoring my comment and chucking a thumb in the direction of the dining room that looked less like it was for wholesome holiday dinners and more from a scene out of Dexter, "and hide you somewhere, I guess."

His lack of organization and attentiveness was starting to bug me, and I was his victim. He was supposed to finish the job two days ago. I may have been a criminal, but at least I was keen on punctuality.

"So what, I'm supposed to sit in a closet with my thumb in my ass while you play Home Improvement?"

Hayes stood from the table. "Pretty much."

I crossed my arms over my chest childishly, watching him clean up. His movements were fluid, like this was part of his daily routine, like he was a totally normal guy like me. The contrast of seeing him in action versus the nature of my being here always startled me in quick, sudden pangs. Hayes truly ate breakfast and did DIYs and fucked and had a sharp tongue like any guy I'd meet on the street.

Well, maybe not the fucking part. He was definitely exceptional in that department.

"How long until he comes?" I asked, then decided to push my luck. "Could I have another cigarette?"

Hayes thought about it for only half a second before nodding toward the sun room. I scrambled to my feet and his fingertips ghosted over the small of my back while we walked. He didn't tie my wrists or anything this time, simply trustfully guided me to the same chairs we sat in last night.

This time, when he handed me a cigarette and lit his own, I held out my hand for the lighter, but he drew it backward out of my reach. A smirk tugged on my mouth while I stuck the cigarette between my lips and he lit it for me this time, pocketing the lighter.

"Do you have a day job?" I asked, filling the morning quiet that the tree-rustling and bird-chirping simply didn't suffice.

Hayes blew a line of smoke towards his feet and it slipped between the cracks of the deck below us. I took the opportunity of his eyes focusing on the tree line ahead to rake my eyes over his front. His abdomen, even bunched and rolled whilst sitting, still looked taut and muscular. Those shoulders that appeared as tumbling boulders falling from his neck were relaxed, slightly hunched. His skin was smooth and tanned and seemed to shine in the morning light, be it a sweaty sheen or simply his personal glow, I wasn't sure. It was a bit chilly outside, too chilly for my lack of pants, but I wouldn't complain. Fresh air was a blessing.

"You're looking at it," he said.

I narrowed my eyes, but didn't say anything. A little yellow bird swooped down and landed on the railing of the deck before us, seemingly unafraid of the two monsters before it. It settled for just a moment, chirped at us, then flew away towards a standing bird feeder I'd only just noticed a few yards from the house. Hayes hummed.

"American Goldfinch," he murmured, so low I nearly missed it. I hummed in question. His eyes met mine and he looked surprised that I'd heard him. "Oh, uh... the bird. It was an American Goldfinch."

He blushed and it was kind of sweet.

Another bird landed beside the Goldfinch, this one almost completely gray with a black head. "Do you know that one?" I asked curiously.

"Black-capped chickadee."

I stole a sideways glance at him. He was a fucking birdwatcher. Every waking moment since the night I met him at the bar, he'd been blowing my mind in different ways. I never knew what to expect next with Hayes and I didn't know how I felt about that.

While we smoked and different birds came and went, I sat silent and still while Hayes mumbled what kind it was. It was a harmless skill—some would even argue very nerdy—it shouldn't have made my heart rate pick up the way it did. He was just kind of precious in a way, like someone you meet and never forget about. I'd certainly never forget him, granted I'd ever be given the chance to have a memory of this time here at his home.

As we walked back into the house, I broke the spell he had on me and smirked. "What do you think is going to stop me from kicking and screaming when your handyman gets here?"

I'd spoken too soon.