The Bad Things (Book 5)

Chapter 10. Picture

            Stormy and I went over to Hayden's apartment to have dinner. Stormy watched and sang along to the Frozen movie on Hayden's TV. I sat on the kitchen island in front of him. He had a large vegetable knife.

"What are we having?" I asked doubtfully.

Hayden sat the onions and bell peppers on the counter in front of him and grabbed one. "Chicken Quesadillas. Haven't you ever had them before?"

"No," I said. "And I should warn you, Stormy and I are picky eaters."

Hayden chuckled. "I think you'll both like it." Hayden looked up at Stormy as she danced around and sang. "I never thought that movie would ever play on my flatscreen."

I threw my head back and laughed. "I bet not, mister tough guy."

Hayden smiled and shook his head. He cut off the top and bottom of the pepper. He pulled out the center part and laid the pepper back down.

I stared as his hand moved impossibly fast with the knife. My stomach twisted in nervousness. "Slow down, Hayden. You're going to cut your finger off."

The knife moved, and in a matter of seconds, the entire pepper was chopped into small pieces. He slid the pile of peppers to the side of the cutting board with the knife and grabbed the second one. He completely ignored what I said, unperturbed.

"Hayden. . ." I trailed off.

He looked up at me as he quickly cut up the pepper. "Relax, bebé. It's how I cut food up."

"What?" I breathed and shook my head.

He finished the second pepper and grabbed a third one. "Growing up, I played with knives a lot. It freaked my mother out. She wouldn't let me mess with them inside. I messed around with different types of knives. It always made my mother nervous, but I never hurt myself with a knife. I used to help her cut up food all the time. She got used to it after a while and had me doing it more often. She couldn't move her hands as fast as I could because of arthritis."

By the time Hayden finished talking, he had cut up three more peppers. He grabbed the onion next and had it chopped up in an impossible amount of time.

"Hayden, that isn't normal. I have watched a million cooking shows. Even professional chefs can't cut up things that damn fast." My eyes flickered from his hand to his eyes. It was intimidating that he could use a knife at such an inhuman speed.

He gazed up at me, pursed his lips, and shrugged. "I'm not normal, I guess." Hayden looked as if the conversation made him uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean it that way. I've just never seen anything like it. I've never met anyone like you." And I probably never will again.

"Do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Go in my room. In my bedside table is my cellphone. Bring it out here to me. I have to call my worker before five. I almost forgot."

"What do you have to call her for? Don't you have a house phone?" I asked as I stood up.

"Just to check-in," he said. "I got rid of the house phone. I don't need two phones."

"Sure."

I went back to his bedroom and pulled his drawer open. I grabbed the cellphone out, which was right on top. My body froze. A picture laid in the drawer beneath the phone. It took me a moment to move.