I watch her scurry to the living room. I didn’t mean to snap at her earlier, but my brain went to all the dark places when I found the note. I was just emptying my pockets to take off my jacket, when I came across it. When I pulled it out it snagged on the edge of my pocket and opened. There were only two words on it.
Die, Bitch.
I should have handled my reaction better, but this asshole was going to pay. I didn’t think her confusion was an act. She legitimately seemed to think this was a mistake. I was sure it wasn’t. This was too targeted and personal. When Holt got here, we were going to do a scan of the house. If the piece of shit was brave enough to fuck with her car and hand deliver a note, I wouldn’t put it past them to come here.
Her thinking that she wasn’t the type to have a stalker was evidence that she had no idea how captivating she was. I tried to initiate small talk in the truck— I’ll admit, I’m not that good at it. That is okay, we would be spending plenty of quality time together. I get busy fixing the leak under the sink. I hear her in the living room puttering around.
Apparently she decides to turn on some music. This should be interesting. It may give me a bit of insight into herpersonality. I reach for a pipe wrench and start to get to work. I should have this fixed before Holt gets here.
I hear her footsteps coming from the living room. She stops at the edge of the kitchen and I wait. I can picture her, running her hands through her choppy bob, and biting her plush bottom lip. I’m rewarded with my patience when she cautiously approaches me. I see her bare feet, with their red painted toes, stop right next to my left knee.
“Do you need help,” she asks quietly. If she knew what she was doing, she would have fixed it herself, but I appreciate the gesture.
“I should be doing something to help you, this is MY home after all, and you don’t seem to want me to pay for things,” she rambles on.
“I don’t know the first thing about plumbing, but I can follow directions pretty well, and if you would just tell me what you need—,” she trails off. I decide to take pity on her. Even though I find her nervousness cute.Cute, I’m really losing my shit.
“Can you hand me that plastic packet,” I ask her. She sighs in relief when I ask her to do something and crouches down to grab it. She hands it to me. I purposely brush her fingers with mine while I take it from her. I want to gauge her reaction. Her eyes widen a fraction and she rips her hand away. I bite back another chuckle.This is fun.
“What else,” she quickly asks. I lift my head and look at her. Watching her nervously tuck her brown hair behind her ear. I suddenly have an idea. I’m definitely going to hell for it, but I can’t help myself.
“I need you to hold something steady at this pipe here above my head, while I tighten this,” I say biting back a smile as her eyes widen. I can see her mind working. She is trying to figure out how both of us are going to be wedged in the cabinetunder the sink. Her mouth opens and closes a few times silently. She stands up and walks closer to the counter.
I lay my head back and chuckle inaudibly. Crouching down she tries to wedge her shoulder underneath the counter. She reaches her hand where I need her assistance. Of course, it doesn’t reach. Her arm is about 6 inches short.
I shift slightly to my right and break the news to her. Trying to sound reluctant. “I don’t think you will be able to reach that way— you can squeeze in next to me,” I hear her huff as I say it. She begins to mutter unintelligibly and kneels down. Her cute, heart shaped mouth is drawn down into a frown and her cheeks are turning red. I see her examining the small space that is open next to my torso. I can almost hear her arguing with herself, when she finally gives in.
She shifts forward and tries to lay on her side. Jamming herself as far back as she can in the process. It isn’t far enough. I can feel the swell of her breast brushing against the side of my chest. “Sorry, I’m not small enough for this,” she mutters.
She is tense and uncomfortable. I almost feel bad, but I can’t. I am already loving the feel of her close to me. I choose to ignore the comment, for now. Knowing that my response will make her more uncomfortable right now. I am also trying to focus on the task at hand, and not roll on top of her, and explore her soft curvy body.
“Just hold this in place, while I tighten this,” I explain. This project is almost done and then we can work on her stalker problem. Holt should be here with food, right as I am cleaning up. She shifts her are up and places her hand in the location I pointed out.
“Like this,” she asks. She sounds strained but her mind is occupied with making sure she follows directions.My little rule follower, I think.
“That’s perfect,” I confirm as I twist the wrench. She sighs a little and relaxes marginally. I am taking my time. Enjoying that her front is brushing up against my side. I really can’t drag this out much longer.
“You are good,” I say gruffly. Clearing my throat. “Thanks for the help.” I barely get the words out of my mouth and she is scrambling out from under the cabinet. If I didn’t know better, I would think she hated me. I know that isn’t the case. I ease out of the cabinet watching her out of the corner of my eye.
Standing up I start gathering the tools and trash. “That should be all set— but just in case we will keep the bucket under there for a bit,” I explain as I put the items back under the sink. I’m just wrapping up when I hear Holt’s SUV pull into the driveway. He must have switched out his bike for that when he went to his surveillance job.
I don’t blame him, it was probably more comfortable. Meg jumps up and looks out the window over the table. She nervously looks my way. I don’t blame her for being a bit jumpy. She has had an interesting couple of days.
“It’s okay, that’s Holt,” I say as I open the door and meet him halfway. I grab the case of beer he has in one hand so that he doesn’t drop the pizza. He is scanning the surroundings, orienting himself to the landscape. Daylight is fading, but he is getting the idea.
“It doesn’t look like many of these people live here full time,” he comments and scowls a bit. “Which does fuck all to deter a predator,” he says. I nod briefly and pull open the storm door. Walking in, I open the refrigerator and start shuffling some things around to make room for the beer.
“Holt, this is Meg—Meg, this is Holt my younger brother,” I introduce them with my head still in the refrigerator. I slide the box in and open it taking out a few. I hand one to Holt and one to Meg.
“Nice to meet you,” she says quietly. Then she adds on “thanks for your help with this little problem.” She isn’t quite sure what to call it. Holt looks her over and smirks at me.
“Likewise, we will get it sorted,” he states simply. He sets down the pizza boxes on top of the stove and moves back. “This is a nice place, it’s quiet out here,” he mentions. I get his double meaning behind it.
Chapter 13
Meg
My nerves are pretty frayed after the close quarters under the sink and the potential danger I may be in. I may put on a brave front, but I’m not a huge fan of the idea that I have a stalker. First of all,what the hell do they want with me? I’m a small business owner, I have an even smaller circle of friends. I don’t date— I got tired of trying and nothing working out. This is incredibly odd to me. Maybe Holt,good looks must run in the family,can help me.
