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10
Trent
As I walkedthrough the aisles of the hardware store, the sun was giving up on the day, ready to sink into the comfort of the deep, dark night. My body itched with urges I’d tried to suppress, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could wait. I had plans for the night, things that needed done in order to satisfy that intense desire, but I had one more stop after this before I could give in to the craving that had been building in me since before I arrived back in Seaside.
The selection in the small store wasn’t the best, but I couldn’t be seen at the bigger box stores where my options were less limited. Not with the cameras and the people crowding the aisles. I was better off here, using what was available to me, in a place that was much more familiar.
With a length of chain and two new padlocks in hand, I stopped at the desk near the back where they made new keys. There was no one around, so I slipped around the desk, tore the keys from the boxes, and set to work making more.
This would tide me over, I tried to tell myself. This would be enough to get the jobs done. I couldn’t afford to come here again. Not for a while anyway.
Not until things calmed down.
The sound of metal grinding ricocheted off the cinder block walls, and it had visions dancing in my head. Ideas of things to come. My mind was a million miles away when something moved in my peripheral, forcing me to pull the key I was making from the duplicator so I could draw my attention up.
“You’re back!” The owner of the store stood before me, looking me over like we were long-lost friends. “Haven’t seen ya in a while. How ya been?”
I nodded his way, then dropped my gaze back to the key in my hand. Before I could finish my task, I forced myself to respond, “I’m good, Mr. Meyers. How are you?”
My resumed grinding covered his response, but truly, I didn’t care. I was almost done, my collection of keys sitting in a pile by my side, and I didn’t need some over-friendly busybody getting in my way.
“You know, I’d ’a been happy to do that for you,” he told me when I was done, just like he always did.
“It’s not a problem, Mr. Meyers. I got it taken care of.”
The older man turned and walked toward the front, as if expecting me to follow after. I eyed the tools hanging on the shelves as I walked after him, dreaming up new ways to use the hammers and pliers and wrenches as he babbled on about his day.
He was slow as he rang me up, even slower to count out the cash I handed him and make my change. And he kept right on talking as I picked up my plastic bags and started for the door.
“You have a good night, now!” he called, waving at me as I reached for the push bar.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Meyers. I plan on it.”
With my purchases settled in the trunk of my car, I made my way through the darkening streets. It was still a little too early. The sun cast its last remaining rays into the sky, and the dark clouds rolling in off the ocean seemed to lower themselves in order to swallow them up.
Rain would make my next task more difficult, and I worried my fingers over the steering wheel, everything in me hoping it would hold off. It could rain later all it wanted. In fact, I had a feeling I might like the calming clash of thunder in my ears while I did what I had planned. But I needed it to wait just a little while longer before the sky opened and washed away the grime.
I pulled on to a side street not far from my intended destination, and tucked into my seat with a burger and fries from the fast-food joint up the street, until the dark of night had settled around me. Lights in nearby homes went out, and from where I sat, I could see the quiet I needed falling upon the little cottage. I climbed from my car and grabbed a padlock and keys from the trunk, then strolled down the street like I was supposed to be there.
No one was watching at that time of night, but if they were, they would have noticed nothing out of sorts. I walked down to the end of the block, then circled back until I got to her house.
Conscious of the security cameras her landlords had installed, I crept along through the shadows toward the side of the house. I found her in bed, right where she should have been, then pulled my phone from my pocket and pulled up the app that controlled her cameras.
It was easy to turn them off, easy to creep in the front door with the key I made. I knew every squeaky floorboard in the entire place, and I made my way through the living room to stand in the doorway of her bedroom.
I had to take a moment. To stand there at the door, staring in at the beauty lying nearly naked on the bed. The house was warm, summer heat filtering through the open windows, the breeze blowing in, raising goosebumps on my arms. But it was the sight of her that affected me most. All her golden skin visible under those tiny shorts and tank top. Her pretty blonde hair fanned out over her shoulder and pillow.
It called to me, beckoned me forward, as if she had sat up and curled her finger to invite me to her side.
I needed to touch her, needed to feel her skin. To run my finger across her throat and down her chest. To touch her breasts, dip lower and lower until I found the little clutch that would hold me tight.
Soon, I promised myself. I’d take her soon. But first, there were other things that needed to be done.
I shifted, then froze as she moved her hand. When there was no further movement, I took her glass of water from her bedside table and took a drink. I savored the thought that her tongue had been right where mine was as I licked across the top.
After setting the glass down on the end of the table, I made my way back out to the other room. I took a moment to glance around the kitchen, shaking my head at the number of ferns and plants she now had cluttering the room. But it was that little mermaid statue that had drawn me here, and I crossed to the plant stand by the door. Kneeling, I adjusted the little statue.
And I adjusted the tiny camera I had placed there.
