The first thing Decker noticed was the tiny fairy lights glinting infront of his line of sight. Twinkling lights that danced in front of his left then right eye.
What in the world... he hadn't fantasized about fairy lights until he was twelve when his uncle broke to him that there were no fairies or Santa in the world. Why are those fairy tales happening now?
"He's showing signs of consciousness, he'll come around soon," a deep masculine voice sounded next to his left ear.
Fluffy white fabric, perky caramel mounds of goodness and delightful hazel balls... where were all these images coming from? Strange, there's a throbbing that was pounding incessantly against his forehead like one of Jake's knock knock jokes.
Decker's eyes slowly opened wider and before he could raise his left hand to find the source of pain on his face, a cold hard nub slammed on to his throat. Blinking rapidly, he squinted to his left as a voice suddenly growled.
"Who are you? Where did you come from? Why did you come into my house? What are you after?"
The voice hesitated. "Am I missing anything? Who, what, where, why... oh yeah, when and how. When did you decide to target my house and how did you get in to my house?"
Waiting for his eyes to unblur and clear, Decker grew more and more agitated at the voice. A female's voice. Then he saw her.
Again.
Hazel orbs flashing with anger and a hint of... nervousness?
What has this woman got to be nervous about? She's not the one who has a rod, rolling pin, held to her throat.
Then he remembered who she was. The girl at HIS house. Before he could spout out retorts to her questions, a fat bearded policeman came lumbering into the room whilst trying to, not so, discreetly scratch his crotch.
"Ms Jones, oh good, and Mr Adams you're awake. We would like to get a statement from you on how you have access into Miss Jones' house," the officer grumbled, pulling out a tomato sauce stained clipboard and pen at ready.
Decker cleared his throat and eyed them both indignantly. "First of all, why am I tied up? Second of all, Ms Jones here, is living in my house, not that I was made aware of that fact when I bought the house. And I have access because I have the keys —"
"Liar! You're either my landlord who secretly had plastic surgery in South Korea or you're a lying thief. I'm still pressing charges, you dirty pervert!" The woman with the surname Jones exploded, brandishing the rolling pin around his face.
"Watch it! Your ex-landlord sold the house you're currently living in to me one week and two days ago!" Decker winced exasperatedly, wondering if there could exist any human being as daft as the one in front of him.
Albeit a sexy daft idiotic woman...
He mentally smacked himself before imagining her with long nostril hair and penis' for boobs. There's a more serious matter at hand. He registered "press" and "charges", words he's more than familiar with.
"If there's anyone who's pressing charges, it's me! As a lawyer, I would very much like to sue your bastard of an ex-landlord for purposeful deceit since he never told me there would be a creature living in the house before selling it to me. And second of all, I should be suing you for personal assault! What on earth did you do to my face anyways?!" Decker roared, pain etched on every feature on his face.
The girl lifted her rolling pin and mimicked a boomerang throw.
"ARE YOU INSANE! I COULD HAVE DIED! OR GAINED A CONCUSSION AND BECOME VEGETABLE, YOU KNOW? OR A TOMATO OR A PUMPKIN!"
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Close Quarters
ChickLitAfter catching her fiance of ten months trying to clean out their plumber's rear end in her shower stall, River Jones decided the only relationship she'll ever have will be with her new fridge. No more men. However, added to her (bad) luck, the owne...