didn't fix any stairs. I just made the delivery."
Jackie’s stomach started to sink. She wasn't able to say anything for a few seconds.
"Ma'am? Are you ok? Hello?"
"Sorry, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. My mistake." Jackie hung up the phone and went in to her bedroom and grabbed the shotgun off of her bed and walked back outside. She walked a circle around the entire house. Nothing. She then made her way over to the tool shed and pulled hard on the handle opening the door. Jackie stepped in and flicked the light on. She took a step back and raised the shotgun. There was a man. There was a big man lying on the floor of the shed. He looked like he fell from a fucking plane; he was beat to shit. He looked dead.
"Hey!" Jackie yelled. "Hey asshole! Get up and get the hell off my property!"
The man didn't move a muscle. Maybe he is dead she thought. Jackie took another step toward the man and kicked the bottom of his bloodied bare foot. "Hey! Get up!" Nothing, the man just laid there. Tightening her hold on the gun, she knelt down beside him and gently placed two fingers over the pulse on his neck. He wasn't dead. He had a pulse, barely. All of a sudden the man’s arm shot out and he wrapped a huge hand around Jackie’s slender wrist. Shocked, Jackie quickly yanked her hand away and fell backwards still cradling the gun.
"Whoa, whoa! Don't shoot!" The man pleaded; he was still lying down with both arms covering his face.
Jackie jumped to her feet and re-aimed the gun back on the intruder. "Who are you? Why are you in my shed?" Jackie’s voice was trembling; she had never been so scared.
"Shed?" The man asked looking around at his surroundings as if seeing them for the first time. "I'm sorry; I don't know where I am or how I got here." He looked down at himself, noticing his t-shirt was torn and missing a piece from the bottom. The man’s voice was low and soft as if trying to sooth a baby back to sleep. Jackie felt like she had met this man before. There was something so familiar about him.
"Well you're in my shed and if you don't tell me why I'm calling the cops!" Jackie yelled.
"Wait! Wait! Please! No cops. I'm not sure exactly what’s going on or how I got here but I'll go; just give me a minute to clear my head. Please."
The man looked like he'd been through hell. Jackie could see the huge bruises on his face and the gashes up and down both of his legs. She was starting to feel a bit sorry for him.
"What happened to you?" She asked.
"I fell from a cliff into the river; last thing I remember was deep in the woods. I must have passed out because I can't remember anything after that." Remington tried to sit up. His head was spinning and he felt like he would lose his lunch if he had had anything left in his stomach to vomit. "I'm really thirsty, could I have some water?" He asked.
Jackie looked around the shed, no water in here; she'd have to go back to the house. Leaving this stranger unattended didn't seem like such a great idea though.
"Please. I'm not going to hurt you, I swear." He said.
Jackie was always weary of strangers, especially ones that showed up half dead in her tool shed, but for some reason she didn't quite understand, she believed him. Besides, she had the gun and this man didn't look like he was in any shape to fight.
"Can you stand?" Jackie asked.
"I don't think so, not on my own. I think my ankle may be broken." Remington pointed at his right ankle. Jackie looked down and saw the man’s ankle was covered in dark purple and black bruising; she winced.
"Ouch, that doesn't look good." She said. "Does it hurt?" Stupid question. She thought to herself.
"Yeah, but my whole body is killing me so..."
"Okay," Jackie said looking the man in the eye, "I'm gonna help you up, and over to the house. I need your word you're not going to try anything stupid. I don't want to shoot you, but if I fear for my safety at anytime, that’s exactly what I'm going to do. Are we
Jackie’s stomach started to sink. She wasn't able to say anything for a few seconds.
"Ma'am? Are you ok? Hello?"
"Sorry, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. My mistake." Jackie hung up the phone and went in to her bedroom and grabbed the shotgun off of her bed and walked back outside. She walked a circle around the entire house. Nothing. She then made her way over to the tool shed and pulled hard on the handle opening the door. Jackie stepped in and flicked the light on. She took a step back and raised the shotgun. There was a man. There was a big man lying on the floor of the shed. He looked like he fell from a fucking plane; he was beat to shit. He looked dead.
"Hey!" Jackie yelled. "Hey asshole! Get up and get the hell off my property!"
The man didn't move a muscle. Maybe he is dead she thought. Jackie took another step toward the man and kicked the bottom of his bloodied bare foot. "Hey! Get up!" Nothing, the man just laid there. Tightening her hold on the gun, she knelt down beside him and gently placed two fingers over the pulse on his neck. He wasn't dead. He had a pulse, barely. All of a sudden the man’s arm shot out and he wrapped a huge hand around Jackie’s slender wrist. Shocked, Jackie quickly yanked her hand away and fell backwards still cradling the gun.
"Whoa, whoa! Don't shoot!" The man pleaded; he was still lying down with both arms covering his face.
Jackie jumped to her feet and re-aimed the gun back on the intruder. "Who are you? Why are you in my shed?" Jackie’s voice was trembling; she had never been so scared.
"Shed?" The man asked looking around at his surroundings as if seeing them for the first time. "I'm sorry; I don't know where I am or how I got here." He looked down at himself, noticing his t-shirt was torn and missing a piece from the bottom. The man’s voice was low and soft as if trying to sooth a baby back to sleep. Jackie felt like she had met this man before. There was something so familiar about him.
"Well you're in my shed and if you don't tell me why I'm calling the cops!" Jackie yelled.
"Wait! Wait! Please! No cops. I'm not sure exactly what’s going on or how I got here but I'll go; just give me a minute to clear my head. Please."
The man looked like he'd been through hell. Jackie could see the huge bruises on his face and the gashes up and down both of his legs. She was starting to feel a bit sorry for him.
"What happened to you?" She asked.
"I fell from a cliff into the river; last thing I remember was deep in the woods. I must have passed out because I can't remember anything after that." Remington tried to sit up. His head was spinning and he felt like he would lose his lunch if he had had anything left in his stomach to vomit. "I'm really thirsty, could I have some water?" He asked.
Jackie looked around the shed, no water in here; she'd have to go back to the house. Leaving this stranger unattended didn't seem like such a great idea though.
"Please. I'm not going to hurt you, I swear." He said.
Jackie was always weary of strangers, especially ones that showed up half dead in her tool shed, but for some reason she didn't quite understand, she believed him. Besides, she had the gun and this man didn't look like he was in any shape to fight.
"Can you stand?" Jackie asked.
"I don't think so, not on my own. I think my ankle may be broken." Remington pointed at his right ankle. Jackie looked down and saw the man’s ankle was covered in dark purple and black bruising; she winced.
"Ouch, that doesn't look good." She said. "Does it hurt?" Stupid question. She thought to herself.
"Yeah, but my whole body is killing me so..."
"Okay," Jackie said looking the man in the eye, "I'm gonna help you up, and over to the house. I need your word you're not going to try anything stupid. I don't want to shoot you, but if I fear for my safety at anytime, that’s exactly what I'm going to do. Are we
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