Page 13 of Light

"Ah, yeah... I did a lot of work the other day. I'd hate for anything to short out and have to do it all over again." I finally look back up at her and give her one of my charming smiles. Usually that's enough to make women melt. Instead, she just huffs and shrugs her shoulders, as if she's not interested in the least in what I'm telling her. I don't know if she's figured out that I'm lying, or if she just doesn't care anymore.

I feel...rejected.

It's not a sentiment I have much experience with.

"Well, you know where everything is. I'll be inside if you need anything." She walks away, leaving me standing at her front door searching for something more to say to her. Searching for anything that will allow me to keep talking to her.

I'm coming up with nothing.

I guess I can just do what I told myself I came here to do. Check on the electrical work that I completed.

I'm not really worried about it. I know my work is good. There's no reason for anything to be wrong with it, but then again I'm not sure what she's got going on in her life that would cause someone to cut her electrical lines in the first place.

I walk over to the electrical box and open the lid as if I'm truly looking for something. It's the same as yesterday. Everything is perfectly in place and working well. I stand there for a few seconds so it looks like I'm actually doing something before I close the box and get ready to go back to the clubhouse.

I take one step and see something I know shouldn't be there.

Cigarette butts.

They could be from Melissa but she's already told me that she doesn't smoke. Of course, I know people lie, but I was under the impression that her son had some sort of breathing problem and Melissa didn't strike me as the type of person that would put a selfish habit over her son's health. No, these aren't from her. It must be from the same people that cut her electrical lines in the first place.

These weren't here before when I first came I'm sure of it. That just means that there is someone making it their job to come out here and terrorize this woman and her child. Is it possible that she doesn't even know they are coming. After all if they were invited why would they stand at the side of the house smoking. It didn't make any sense.

The other part of this whole situation that didn't make any sense was the fact that I was so interested in the real story of what is going on with this woman. She didn't call me or the club here to protect her, she called me here to fix her lights. I did that. So why can't I just let this shit drop.

My eyes focus on the cigarette butts and then I hear Melissa talking to her son in the house. My eyes flash up toward the sound and then back down again.

Even as the gears continue to wind in my head I know what I'm thinking is a bad idea.

"It's not my problem...not my...Fuck!" I hiss before I rush back to my bike and pull out my go bag. I have a few tools and some equipment in there that I used around the clubhouse compound. One piece of equipment in particular is the small surveillance camera.

It's small, maybe the size of a golf ball but it's definitely not what Melissa asked me out here to do. For some reason walking away from this knowing that some asshole is getting his jollies off watching them is driving me insane. I just can't let this go down.

Melissa seems like a decent enough woman. Though not decent enough for her to understand that I want to set up a camera right outside her house. No, this I'm going to have to keep to myself.

"God damn it!"

I hear Melissa curse and instantly I'm on high alert. I quickly close up the electrical panel and run into the house not even bothering to wait for her to invite me in. I see her standing in the kitchen, the coffee machine sparking as the water from the well spurts up like a pulsing geyser from the back. She's trying to pull it out but I quickly get in front of her. I yank it out the wall before she can get a grip on it.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" She squeals as I pull the coffee machine away from the puddle of water, splashing myself in the process.

"Damn woman, how the hell did you do this?" I complain, shaking my head, but I'm already focused on the outlet behind the coffee machine. I need to make sure that she didn't do any damage. "Don't touch it. I'll be right back." I shoot her a tight glance before I go back outside where my tools are and get what I need.

My shirt is soaked, so I quickly yank it off and make my way back into the house. I stop for a second when I catch my reflection in the mirror. I'm shirtless in this woman's house. This might not have been the best idea.

When I get back to the kitchen, she's not in there. I focus on the coffee machine and try to figure out what made it spaz out in the first place.

“Did the shirt not survive the water?” Melissa questions as she walks back into the kitchen. I turn to look at her and notice that she's staring at me. I'm not sure if she's looking at me because she likes what she sees or... what am I thinking, of course she likes what she sees.

“I find clothes restrict my… performance.” I waggle my eyebrows and she scoffs at my humor.

“Then let’s restrict the flirting and focus on the fire hazard.” She gestures to the coffee machine in front of me.

I give her a wink and a little flex before I lean forward to examine the outlet. The minute I touch it with one of my tools a tiny surge of electricity zaps me.

“Damn, she’s feisty.” I mutter.

Melissa laughs and leans against the door frame of the kitchen. "You mean the outlet or me?"

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