Page 9 of Morally Grey

I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around my knees. “Considering I haven’t used the bathroom since I got here, my bladder pains are pretty understandable.”

“Oh!” She hurries to stand, then leaves the room. A few minutes later, she returns with something blue in her hands. My stomach sinks as I realize what it is.

I shake my head. “I’m not pissing in a bucket.”

“Then I guess you’ll just piss in your pants. You aren’t going back upstairs. Not now that I know the police saw your car turn in here.” She drops the bucket and pushes it toward me.

“I told you. I’m not going to piss in a bucket. You have my gun. I’m not stupid. Take me to the bathroom.”

“No,Iam not stupid. That’s why I refuse to take you upstairs. If you really wanted to overpower me and take the gun, there’s enough shit up there to help you accomplish that.”

“And where would I run? Do you think I want to be out there, dealing with cops at every turn? I’m safer here.”

It’s a lie. Kind of. I mean, this is still better than prison, I guess.

She disappears again and shows up with my gun in her hand. She aims it at me. “Upstairs,” she says, motioning up the basement steps.

I scramble to my feet and walk ahead of her. As I pass her, I glance at the gun. The safety is off, so she clearly knows what she’s doing. And she means business.

We reach the ground floor of her home, and she gestures to the left. I follow her directions to the bathroom, and I’m grateful when she lets me go in by myself, though she stays just outside the door. When I go to close it, she shakes her head.

“Leave the door open.”

I sigh and turn to unzip my jeans, pull out my dick, and piss. I hope she enjoys the view, since she can’t stop staring at me.

“Do you think you can keep me here forever?” I put my hand against the wall and lean into it.

“I don’t think I can keep you forever, but I’d like to keep you as long as I can. At least until your reward rises to a respectable level and I learn why you killed the woman.”

“Do they have any leads?”

“No. A lot of social media experts weigh in, though. Most people view you as a hero.”

I cock my head. “What do you mean? I killed someone.”

“You didn’t killsomeone. You killed the epitome of a power imbalance. The head of abuse of federal institutions, like banks.”

I scoff. “She’s still a person. Well, was.”

“People think of you as a hero without a cape. They believe you were sticking it to the man at a time when the man really needed to get stuck.”

“Is that what you think of me?”

She offers a noncommittal shrug, and I pull my gaze from her. I’m no hero. I’m the villain.

“You’re a little bit of a psycho. You know that, right?” I shake off my dick and tuck it inside my pants.

“Yeah, I do.”

I’m being kind. Someone who holds a murderer hostage while his reward money rises is so far removed from psychosis. She’s in her own field of crazy.

Taking a moment, I glance around the bathroom, looking for anything that could help me escape this precarious situation. With her staring at me like this, that’s pretty hard to do.

“Can I take a shower?” I ask, hoping that will afford me some privacy. “I haven’t done more than wipe up in a gas station bathroom for ages.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

I clear my throat and hold out my hands. “Any chance I could get a little privacy?”

---