Passions in the North Country (Siren Publishing Classic) (27 page)

If he’s going to live there, I’ll have to get used to him, she thought.

Jenny looked out over the dull, overcast night. Black clouds, shredded like the silken dress of a modern dancer, obscured the stars and only begrudgingly allowed the moon momentary escapes from behind the dark veil. A fine mist hung over the town, streetlights glowed eerily, everything was wet, and the wind swept droplets of water from leaves on the trees. Jenny laid her cheek against the pane. She stared away blankly, lost in thought. Again the phone rang. She was worried something terrible had happened to Miriam, but she quickly answered anyway.

“Jenny!” came the hushed voice of Arnie. “It’s me.”

“What is it, Arnie?” Jenny asked, whispering for some unknown reason.

“I’m calling from a pay phone.”

“What?”

“Ivan was in.”

Her heart stopped. “When?”

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

She was afraid to ask, but she had to. “What did he want?”

“You.” Arnie paused. “He wants you, Jenny.”

“Me?” she said with a squeak. “I thought he might have moved on by now.”

“Not a chance. He’s obsessing and it’s getting worse. He’s out of his mind.”

“What did he say?”

“I can’t repeat it?”

“Tell me, Arnie.”

The old man sighed deeply. “He said you were a whore and that you had cheated on him. He said you’re a bitch and you don’t deserve to live. He’s got two detectives scouring Los Angeles looking for you, and he’s got another guy turning every stone. It’s an all-out search.”

“Oh, my God,” Jenny said, swallowing hard.

“He quit his job, you know.”

“He did?” Jenny asked breathlessly.

“Quit,” Arnie assured her, “and he’s not looking for anything else, from what I hear.”

“What does that mean, Arnie?”

Arnie said nothing.

“He’s not looking because he has no intention of working anymore. Isn’t that right, Arnie? He’s planning on dying. A suicide mission. And I’m it, aren’t I, Arnie?”

“He’s dangerous,” Arnie said. “A man who doesn’t care about anything cannot be trusted in any way.”

“How does he look?”

“Terrible. His hair’s a mess, his clothes are a mess, he’s a mess. I don’t think he bathes anymore. He’s got a one-track mind. I’m sure he thinks about you all day long. He told me himself that he can’t sleep, but I’m sure that when he does doze off, he dreams of you. You are his world now. You are his only thought. He must never find you, Jenny. Never. He’s crazy.”

“I know,” she mumbled, her pulse racing.

“At the very least you should record this with your local police. If anything happens and you call, they’ll know you need help right away.”

“That’s about all I can do, Arnie.” She sighed. “You didn’t give him any clues, nothing he could use?”

“None, Jenny, but I suggest you lay as low as you can. He’s not going to give up. The only way to stop him now is to kill him.”

“Oh, my God.”

“I know that sounds awful, but I believe it. If he has life, he will chase you.”

She sighed deeply.

“Take care of yourself, honey.”

“I will. Thank you, Arnie.”

“There’s no way he can find out you’re in Nova Scotia. You’re a needle in a haystack. I can’t imagine he’s even looking outside the United States.”

“I hope not.”

“As far as the tours go with the North Country Inn, I’m out of it now. I won’t even use my phone in the office for fear he has it bugged. Everything will be fine, though. I’ve had reports that everyone is very pleased with the inn and you’ll establish a steady clientele on your own now.”

“It’s working well, Arnie,” she said, terror in her voice.

“It’s silent running now, honey. You take care.”

“I will. Thanks, Arnie.”

“I love you like a daughter,” Arnie said, deep emotion in his voice.

“I love you, too, Arnie,” Jenny said, her voice cracking and tears rolling down her cheeks. Her lip quivered. “I’m so scared,” she stammered, sobbing.

“I’d like to kill that bastard myself,” Arnie said angrily. “That stupid idiot! Threatening a sweet little girl like you. It makes me so mad!”

“Thank you,” she said with sobs.

“You take care, honey. Maybe he’ll do us all a favor and jump off a bridge.”

“Bye, Arnie. If this all blows over somehow, I’m coming to visit you. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, honey. But I want you to call the police and alert them. Let them know if you call that they need to come right away. There’s a goddamned idiot on the loose.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Bye, Jenny.”

“Bye-bye.”

They hung up and Jenny lay on the bed, her mind racing. Ivan was homicidal simply because she left. If she knew what had been going on between her and Devon, he would lose his mind. She could hear Devon walking around in the other room, unaware of the new drama in her life. Jenny felt overwhelmed, tired, even angry. She just wanted Ivan to go away, to go away forever, and to leave her alone. He was like a disease that comes uninvited, robbing the person of their joy and life. The mere thought of his face made her feel almost physically sick. All of a sudden she started to cry.

Through tears she gazed at the uneven, cracked streets that dissected the hill like a web. Life was so wonderful, so full of hope, but this horrible man lurked there like a spider waiting to close in and suck away her very essence. She hated Ivan, hated him with a passion. The image of his face at the airport, making that threat, made her cringe. He was so sure, so confident, so determined. He would give it everything he had to kill her. That she knew for sure, and the thought threatened to break her spirit.

She wanted to open up to Devon but was afraid. She had lied to him, and he told her he hated deception, so how could she now admit it? But she wanted to tell him, to share the pain, to feel his comforting hug. Jenny leaned against the wall and cried like a baby.

“Are you all right?” came Devon’s soft voice on the other side of the door.

“Yes,” she murmured, then almost immediately raised her voice. “No!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked with great concern.

“Miriam fell.”

“I know. Terry called me. He said she’s going to be all right and that I should pass it on. I thought you were asleep, Jenny.”

“I need a hug!” she suddenly blurted out.

“Do you want me to come in?”

“Yes.”

Devon slowly opened the door and quietly entered the room. How nice that felt! Ivan had stolen into her room and into her consciousness uninvited, but this man, Devon North, he was welcome, and always would be. He walked up to her and lightly touched the back of her hand with his strong, thick, callused fingers. Jenny turned and saw Devon looking down at her. He had an expression of compassion and he wore the blue sweater she saw in the truck that first night on the road, the same one she had put on for a short time when he wasn’t there.

“I heard you crying,” he whispered. “Are you all right?”

“Overwhelmed,” she said.

He gently pressed her cheek to his chest and she could hear his beating heart. She could feel his strength. She felt safe and secure in his embrace. Jenny cried harder and Devon didn’t ask her to stop, and didn’t ask her to explain. He didn’t wipe away her tears. He just stroked her hair and rubbed the back of her neck.

“You were right,” she suddenly said, pulling away from him and looking up with a shattered expression, her face stained with tears.

“It’s a man, isn’t it?” Devon said solemnly.

Jenny nodded.

“What’s his name?”

“Ivan.”

Devon looked extremely agitated. “Ivan who?”

“Ivan Wiley.”

“What did he do?”

“He threatened to kill me,” Jenny said, walking to the other side of the room. “He meant it, too.”

Devon’s eyes flashed and there was a vicious coldness Jenny had never seen before. “Over my dead body,” he said, his jaw set in concrete.

Jenny liked the way he said it, and though she would never allow him to risk his safety for her sake, she was impressed with his sincerity and his pure masculine resolve. He was big, strong, raw. He was wise in the ways of the world, and he loved her, he really loved her. He meant what he said.

“Did he ever hurt you?” Devon asked, his lower lip quivering with rage.

“He used to pinch me,” Jenny began, “but at first it was only playful. Then he started doing it if I did something he didn’t like.” She shrugged. “If I looked at another man who was attractive, Ivan would pinch me and have an awful look of disdain in his eyes. A week before I ran, he pinched me really hard on the breast when I wasn’t looking. It hurt a lot.”

“Why would he do a dumbass thing like that?”

“He said it was because I had shown part of my cleavage in front of his friends.”

“What an asshole,” Devon said. “I have my rifle down in the truck. Would it make you feel safer if I kept in the Captain’s Room?”

“Yes,” she said, trying not to sound pathetic. “I know him, Devon. I have looked into his eyes. Yes, it would make me feel safer if you bring the gun in.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Less than five minutes later Devon returned with a rifle case and a bag. He laid the case and bag on the floor in the middle of her room, then looked at her. “No one is going to hurt you.”

“Is that the gun?” Jenny asked. “The one you killed the bear with?”

“Yes.”

“It was Lawrence’s gun?” she said, amazed how the object took on such significance. “Can I see it?”

“I’ll take you to the range tomorrow and teach you to fire it,” Devon said, squatting down and opening the case. He took out a small, banged-up rifle. “She’s been around for a long time,” Devon said, holding it with a look of pride, “but she’s always true. Lawrence never missed big game with this rifle. Not once in his entire life. I swear he could shoot the balls off a mosquito.”

Though Jenny was extremely distraught, she laughed and Devon’s eyes gleamed.

“I only shot once, but I kept the record intact.” He held the gun up as if it was an icon. “She’s old, she’s been knocked around, but she is as true a friend as any soul will ever have.” Suddenly his expression grew very serious. “No one will hurt you, Jenny.”

“Can I hold it?”

Devon handed her the gun. It was surprisingly light and easy to manoeuver. Months ago, had someone suggested that she should learn to fire a high-powered rifle, she would have scoffed at the idea. Now she liked it and told him she wanted to go to the range. Devon took a box of twenty bullets out of the bag and showed her one.

“This is a magic combination,” he said, “because it can turn even a small woman into Hercules. I don’t care how big and strong a man is, how powerful he is, or even how mean he is, with this magic wand and these poison pills, you need fear no one. No man walks through this magic. It is the great equalizer. And you, my dear, are going to become proficient in this magic. We start tomorrow.”

“I’m excited,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

“Hold that thought,” he said, putting the gun and bullets next to the dresser about ten feet from the bed. Then he walked up to her and kissed her. “Let’s think about something pleasant.”

“Sex,” Jenny whispered.

“That qualifies,” Devon said with a short laugh.

She looked at him with animal heat. “It’s time, Devon. Time to play our parts. Time to free them. Jenny took a deep breath. “You are staying here tonight, aren’t you? You’re not leaving?”

“I’ll be right next to you in the Captain’s bed, Jenny. I will be here all night if you need me. Even if you wake up and feel afraid, call me and I will come to you. I promise.”

“I believe you.” She paused and looked hard at him. “If he knew what you and I did down at the island, he would kill you and cut me into pieces.”

Devon shook his head. “He might try to kill me, but he sure as hell isn’t going to harm a hair on your head.”

“It’s time for bed, Captain,” Jenny said, smiling sweetly. “That’s what Maria used to say before bed every night, wasn’t it? I read that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, she said it every night. And every night he told her he loved her. Then they would leave the door partially open and wash themselves at their basins.”

“Let’s do it, Captain.”

“There are two basins downstairs, Maria,” he replied, his heart thumping.

“Bring them. Warm water, not hot.”

“I’ll be right back.” Two minutes later Devon returned with a towel and face cloth over his left shoulder, a beautiful porcelain basin, decorated with a swan, and a bar of pink soap. Maria’s name was inscribed on the swan’s wing. “It’s hers,” Devon said, taking the basin into Jenny’s room and laying it on the bench. “She used this very one all those years.”

“Yes, that’s perfect.”

Devon closed the door between their rooms and went back downstairs. He returned a short time later with a basin in the shape of an oyster, the Captain’s name inscribed on the side.

“Looks like rain, Captain,” Jenny said from the other room, lighting candles.

“Yes, it does, Maria,” replied Devon. “It’s sprinkling now but soon it’s going to pour.” He closed his curtain. “I like the sound of the rain.”

“I like the sound of the rain, too.” She quietly opened the door, but just wide enough for Devon to see that part of her room where the basin stood. “I’m going to bathe before bed.”

“Me, too.”

Suddenly she was there, naked and beautiful, glimmering in candlelight like an angel of art. She was so pretty, so smooth. Soft. Round. Curved. But she had her back to him, her pretty ass, tight and firm, a flicker of light on her inner darkness. She turned and faced him, exposing her soft breasts and her light blonde patch of pussy hair. Devon admired her, his eyes vacant, a smile of pleasure lighting his face. He was standing with the face cloth in front of his groin and noticed Jenny looking down at it.

“Show me your cock, darling,” she said, her eyes glued to his tight abs and heavy, powerful legs.

Devon slowly pulled the face cloth aside and exposed his heavy, quivering cock pole.

Jenny stared at it and licked her lips with an almost frantic look on her face. “It’s so pretty,” she said, glancing into his eyes before lowering them again to his impressive staff. “How long has it been for you?”