Psyche Transfixed (First 4 Chapters) (3)
“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m going to pop some pizzas in the oven for our guest. Make sure he doesn’t try and leave that room.” Then I left the bathroom and headed toward the kitchen. I put the pizzas in the oven and then went back to the room Matt was in. He was still sitting on the couch and he stiffened when I entered the room. “You doing okay?” I asked him. “Sure,” he murmured. I sighed heavily. “You really don’t like those cuffs, huh?” I was trying to sound friendly but wasn’t sure how well I pulled it off. I was tired and I just wanted this ‘job’ to be over already. “Please, I won’t try anything. I promise.” I paused. “Ever heard of a contract?” I asked him quietly. He shook his head. “I have a feeling you don’t mean like a written one?” “No, I don’t. A contract is a confining promise. We use it to make sure people are going to keep their word. To…break the contract means, uh…death.” “What?” he gasped, looking at me. “Why?” “The laws are harsh sometimes,” I said, shrugging. “It’s just the way it is. Are you willing to make a contract with me or are you lying about not trying anything?” “You’ll kill me if I try to leave?” he asked shakily. “It’s confining.” He paused. I knew it was a lot to take in right now, especially in his position. He came to a decision in good time, though. “Okay,” he finally murmured, “if you’ll take these handcuffs off.” “I will,” I agreed. I grabbed the key to the cuffs from my pocket and unlocked them, taking them away from his wrists. He pulled his hands in front of him and rubbed at his wrists, frowning slightly. I held out my hand. “We shake for a contract.” He nodded slowly and stuck his hand out. We shook. A contract was made. I grinned. “Well then, help me in the bathroom. My dog is whining.” Indeed, Pie was. He was yowling for attention. Sometimes he scared me by how needy he was. What would happen to him if something happened to me? Matt nodded slowly, looking slightly confused. We went to the bathroom and I knelt next to the tub, reaching for the shampoo bottle. “You’re…giving him a bath?” Matt asked incredulously. “Yeah, why?” I asked. He shrugged. “I just…didn’t see you as the type.” “I’m not normally someone who takes prisoners,” I said. “I don’t like to be rough with people, it just sometimes happens. I’m sorry, by the way--I really didn’t want to do that to you.” He didn’t say anything, only knelt next to me, helping me smear in the shampoo on Pie’s thick pelt. Pie wagged his tail happily and I glanced at the kid. He paused. “I like dogs,” he said. “Ah,” I said. “Well, join the club.” I smiled at him and we gave Pie a bath. Once we were done, we went to the kitchen to enjoy our pizzas. Then I pulled out a few DVDs and it was actually an enjoyable night, all things considered. Matt even began laughing when we watched Jon Reep, a comedian. I had to admit, as far as comedians went, he was one of the best that I’d seen in a long time, right up there with Dane Cook, Gerry Dee, and Brian Regan. Then at one in the morning, we decided to go to bed. I reached for the handcuffs. “We had a contract,” Matt accused, looking at me with large, ample eyes. “I know,” I said, “but you don’t know our ways yet and might break it. I just need to handcuff you for reassurance. I promise I’ll make sure you’re comfortable and I’ll only handcuff one of your hands.” He shook his head. “We had a deal.” “I can’t trust you, I’m sorry, kid,” I said, feeling guilty. “Just for tonight, okay? If you do good tonight, I’ll let you be without cuffs tomorrow night. I swear.” He bit down on his lower lip. “Are you breaking the contract?” “Not necessarily,” I told him. “I never said I’d keep them off of you at night.” “But--” “I’m sorry, Matt. It’s just for tonight and I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.” He sighed heavily, crossing his arms as he got to his feet to head into the back room. “You’re not really giving me a choice,” he mumbled. “I thought I wasn’t a prisoner.” “You’re not,” I said quietly. “It’s just some insurance.” He nodded slowly. “Alright. But I don’t have to have them tomorrow night, right? Can we make a contract on that?” “Sure, kid.” I stuck my hand out and we shook. Satisfied, he lay down on the couch with his thick comforter and a pillow I’d snatched from my own bed. The armrest of the couch was wooden and was worn through, so the wood was showing. I handcuffed one of his wrists to it and turned out the lights. “I’m sorry, Matt. Night.” “Night,” he murmured from the darkness of the room. I sighed and went to go into my own room. I ran into Pie in the hallway, though, and he yipped happily, wagging his tail as he dropped his ball in front of me. “No,” I groaned, “not now, boy, c’mon--I’m tired.” He sat in front of me, watching me expectantly. It was unhealthy that I gave into him, but he was just so stubborn. Those big, pleading eyes of his didn’t help anything, either. “Alright,” I sighed, “just for a few minutes.” I picked up the ball and entered the living room, tossing it for him. He ran after it and nearly knocked the TV over. I shook my head and opened the front door, throwing the ball outside. He ran after and returned a moment later, carrying it in his mouth. I threw it again. I’m sad to say this went on for nearly an hour…and then two. It was after three in the morning when I finally got to curl up in my bed, and then I was woken nearly fifteen minutes later by the sound of Pie whimpering at the foot of my bed. “Fine,” I muttered. He jumped into the bed and curled up next to me. I went to sleep…and was woken about an hour later by the sound of his deep snores. Yeah…this was going to be a long night. CHAPTER THREE: I HATE SEER TALK I woke the next morning to Pie licking me in the face, growling for food as he nipped at my dark brown hair. I pushed him away and stood from the bed, grumbling to myself about annoying dogs. Glancing at the digital clock on my nightstand, I saw that it was 10:23 in the morning. I immediately went to the back room before I did anything, knocking lightly on the door before I entered. Matt was up, sitting on the couch and watching me. “I really gotta go to the bathroom,” he told me, frowning deeply, his legs crossed. I nodded and hurried to unlock the handcuffs. He darted from the room and I heard the bathroom door slam closed. I went to the kitchen and began making a pot of coffee, and then frowned, wondering what Matt wanted to drink. I knew he didn’t like coffee--he’d scowled at it enough during the past day to let me know that fact pretty well. Matt joined me minutes later. “What’s for breakfast?” he murmured, sitting down at the kitchen table. I paused and then turned to face him. “I don’t really have anything,” I said with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t know I’d be having company until Tony called and--” “Tony?” Matt broke in, frowning deeply. “Who’s that?” I paused. “Uh…my boss,” I said. “He heard about you and what you did and he knew those people would be after you, so he sent me to pick you up. Again, I’m sorry about how I got you here.” He didn’t say anything, just looked away. “What do you say we go out and eat?” I asked slowly. “If you don’t run.” “I won’t run,” he said with a sigh. “We made a deal, remember? And yeah, I’d like to go out and eat.” I nodded. “Alright. I’ve got some spare clothes in the closet--they might be a little big on you but they’re too small for me anymore.” He nodded slowly. “I’m gonna go shower,” he said, getting to his feet and leaving the kitchen. I nodded and then looked at Pie. He immediately knew what he had to do and followed after Matt to make sure he didn’t try and escape. Sometimes I really loved that dog. * * * * * We went to a small restaurant near my place. As we got a booth, I frowned at the clothes Matt wore. He was clad in a baggy red shirt and his old blue jeans. “Did mine not fit you?” I asked him. He shook his head and looked at the menu. “We’ll have to buy you some, then, or stop by your place.” He looked up at that, smiling. “Can we?” he asked. I sighed heavily. To go to his place would be a forty minute drive or longer, depending on traffic. “I guess,” I said quietly. A lovely young waitress--maybe twenty-two or somewhere close to that--with short blonde hair and baby blue eyes grinned at the two of us. “So what are you having?” she asked, bringing out a notepad. “I want the Pancake Special,” Matt said, “and a Coke.” Kids today, sheesh. “I’ll have what he’s having,” I said, “minus the soda. I’ll have coffee.” Matt grimaced as she walked away. “You’re a coffee addict, aren’t you?” “No,” I said with a snort. “Absolutely not.” Then I paused. “At least not yet.” I frowned suddenly. “You’re in a good mood.” He shrugged. “I’m not a prisoner anymore, right?” “Does that mean you’ll run?” “No, I know the terms of the contract,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to risk getting killed.” His expression darkened. “Would you really kill me? Seriously?” I sighed heavily, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Can we please not talk about this here? When we get back to the apartment I’ll try and explain some things to you, okay?” At his nod, I frowned. “You have to understand, though, there’s only so much I can say.” “What do you mean?” he asked, frowning at me with confusion. “There are rules. Technically I’m not supposed to tell you anything, and thus that limits me to what I can say. I’ve probably already said too much but I don’t think it’s fair to uproot you from your life and not say anything to you about it.” He nodded slowly. “I guess so,” he murmured. “I guess, uh…I should thank you for caring.” I shrugged. “Not necessarily--I did kidnap you, after all.” He paused. “Yeah but I’m not handcuffed anymore, so I guess we’re okay.” He grinned, seemingly in a much better mood from yesterday. I guessed his headache was gone. Then I felt guilty. “I’m sorry.” He frowned. “What for?” “I knew you had a headache yesterday and I didn’t offer you any aspirin. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay,” he said, “I feel better now.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Okay, what gives? Why are you in such a good mood?” He paused and bit down on his lower lip. “I just, uh…I had a dream last night, you know? One of…one of those dreams.” “Oh,” I said, nodding slowly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me here. We can talk when we’re done eating. And maybe we can drive to your place and pick up some of your stuff. How much school work do you think you’re missing?” “It’s Saturday,” he said, looking at me with a smirk. “I know that,” I said with a scowl. “I meant like on Monday, if you’re still, you know…stuck with me.” He shrugged. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” “Wise words for a kid.” “I’m not a kid,” he grumbled. “Will you stop calling me that? I’m seventeen, almost eighteen.” “Exactly.” “Huh?” “Where are your parents?” I asked, frowning, and then felt guilty. “Oh.” “They’re dead,” he grunted. “Why does that matter?” “I’m sorry,” I said. “I meant…why are you living on your own? You’re not even eighteen.”
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