But Ferrets Can Never Hurt Me

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But Ferrets Can Never Hurt Me Page 2

by Nhys Glover


  After the boy had left, the four adults stared at each other. Well, the three living ones did. Daphne could stare at us, but the men couldn’t stare at her. Jake could hear her though, which made him one up on Mason.

  “I suppose the light will do,” Mason grumbled, heading for the doorway as well. “I’ll get my camera. Images to augment the text would be a useful way to fully comprehend the message.”

  Chapter Two

  Once he was gone, Jake and I stared at each other.

  I glanced Daphne’s way, willing her to leave. She covered her mouth, as if she’d missed the memo, and blinked out of existence, leaving us alone.

  “You all right?” I asked gently, wanting to touch his arm to give comfort.

  “A few bruises. Worth it to get rid of the pest. One of the pests,” he grumbled, going back to his task. He was giving me the very clear message he didn’t want to talk about it.

  “How old were you when you started living rough?” I asked, not willing to take the hint.

  For a moment I wasn’t sure he was going to answer me. Then, with a heavy sigh, he began to talk. “Ten. I was ten. And before you start feeling sorry for me, I did awright. And Johnno took me on as a runner when I was eleven, so I wasn’t on the streets for long.”

  “Johnno, the crime boss you work for?” I clarified.

  He nodded, not meeting my gaze. “Never had a dad. Johnno’s as close to one as I got. Even though it was never about him adopting me, you know? I was just one of his people. The youngest one of his people. But he wanted to develop me. Saw somethin’ in me, I guess. So he made me study when I wasn’t needed for work. Couldn’t go to school, because there’d be too many questions asked, but he got one of ‘is men to kind of home-school me. Just until I knew enough to be useful.”

  “I left school after my GCSEs to look after Mummy,” I shared, adopting the same indifferent tone he’d used. “She had a stroke when I was sixteen. The only subject I really missed was art. Otherwise, I hated boarding school.”

  “Boarding school? Like in Harry Potter?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

  I grinned back. “No, unfortunately. It was an all-girls ladies college. More finishing school than anything else. To groom the next generation of upper-class wives for the rich and powerful. I didn’t quite fit the mould.” I indicated my full-figured body in its oversized tee-shirt and paint-spattered jeans.

  “Did you have to walk with a book on your head?” he teased me with a smirk, eyes glittering in the light of the one weak bulb.

  I grimaced and groaned. “Oh, yes, that was part of it. How to walk, how to sit, how to keep your spine straight and head up. I had a habit of slouching. Probably because standing with my shoulders back made my boobs stick out.” I blushed.

  Jake glanced down at the part of me I’d foolishly drawn attention to.

  “They are impressive,” he noted, the smile on his thin lips broadening.

  The man was all craggy angles, not a soft line to be found anywhere, even his lips. Yet when those lips kissed mine, they had been softer than I could ever have imagined. I hadn’t realised lips could be so soft and slick. After all, you couldn’t really check your own lips out, could you?

  The direction my thoughts had turned must have registered on my face because Jake cleared his throat and glanced away. “Did you come down here for something?”

  “No... Not really. I just noticed everyone was gone and wanted to know what was going on.”

  “Well then, I’ll just get back to work.”

  I was dismissed. Not unkindly, but still dismissed. I accepted defeat and headed for the doorway. An idea hit me just as I reached it.

  “Do you think Squib is getting any closer to giving up and working with me?” I asked.

  Jake frowned, considering my question. “Maybe. He seems to want to be around us—like Daphne does—not just to annoy me but to be part of the action. So, most of the time he can’t keep far enough out of range to avoid me taking him down. Is Daphne still here?”

  I shook my head.

  “Didn’t think so. I’m starting to be able to feel when either one of ‘em is close. They don’t have to say anything. It’s like I just know,” he admitted, as if it was a terrible new development.

  “Wow, that’s great!” I exclaimed. “Your ability is growing.”

  He grimaced. “I think it’s because I need to get the jump on Squib. Yesterday when I was burying ... Sorry.” He stopped talking, not wanting to remind me about Rex’s death.

  I shrugged and indicated he should go on.

  “I thought I’d jumped him when I heard him, but now I think I felt him there. It’s like when I fight, you know? I can sometimes sense what an opponent will do next. Which way he’ll duck or move. Our survival instincts can be honed, if they’re needed. And I definitely need ‘em with Squib.”

  He meant the last as a joke, so I laughed a little. But my mind was conjuring images of Jake in a cage, fighting for his life. It made my blood turn cold just thinking about it.

  “Why do you do it? Fight, I mean,” I asked, despite myself.

  He shrugged. “Lots of reasons. Because I’m good at it. Because it gives me a reputation. People think twice before trying to take me on because of my rep. So, I fight once to save having to fight three or four other times. It’s good business for Johnno, too, o’ course. And... And I guess I get to work off a lot of rage. I’ve got a fair bit of it. You need to know that about me, Alfie.”

  Why did I need to know that? It was almost like he wanted me to see all his warts, so I knew what I was getting into with him.

  But that was ridiculous. He wasn’t thinking like that. Getting involved with me romantically was the last thing on his mind, even though Mason said that was his plan. To him I was a big posh cow, after all.

  “I think your rage might be useful in this upcoming challenge. I’m not much for fighting.”

  “That reminds me. I’ve set up a sparring arena in the old shed for you. It has a dirt floor, which’ll make falling less painful. You need to learn to defend yourself. A legal piece of paper won’t keep Watkins, or anyone else, from hurting you.”

  Swallowing audibly, I stared into his eyes. I wanted to read indecision there. Unfortunately, there was none. He was not going to let me out of this.

  “But you can defend me...” I tried anyway.

  “I may not be around long. This isn’t my fight, Princess. I’ve a job waiting for me in Leeds. Johnno won’t wait forever.”

  My heart sank.

  He was at my side in an instant, lifting my chin so I was forced to meet his gaze.

  “I’m not leaving tomorrow. Or the day after that. I’ll do what I can to make you ready.”

  I swallowed loudly. Make me ready. Could anyone make me ready to confront the creature that had escaped the underworld through the opening on my property? An opening kept closed for centuries by spells and wards. Those wards had been refreshed every fifty years by my pagan ancestors. Those I now thought of as the Guardians of the Gateway. One of the many gateways around the world that led from one level of reality to the next.

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready,” I admitted, hating to let him see the scaredy-cat side of me.

  This was a man who respected courage. And I desperately wanted him to respect me.

  “Remember what your great-grandma said. You’re stronger than you think.”

  “You keep reminding me of that. But I don’t see it. Half the time I just want to pack up my bits and bobs and take to the hills. If not for Daphne being tied to the house, I might just do it.”

  He caressed my cheek with his thumb as he cupped my jaw in his palm. “And leave others to die, when you know how to stop it? That’s not you.”

  “You don’t know me,” I warned.

  His smirk appeared again. “Oh, I think I do, Miss Alfreda Wimple. You have the heart of a warrior beneath a soft, curvy shell. Mason was right. You do wear a mask. Even from yourself.”

  I trie
d to look away, embarrassed to be praised in this way by him. “You can’t know that about me. You barely know me at all.”

  He moved his own head so he could meet my gaze again. “I know you better than most of the people in my life. Every unconscious gesture or action you take shows me who you really are. Do you know how many women I know who’d jump in-between me and someone I wanted to take down? Scratch that. How many men or women?”

  He paused, waiting for me to answer. It wasn’t a rhetorical question then.

  “I don’t know,” I murmured lamely.

  “None. Only you. You wanted to save that big-mouthed prof and didn’t mind getting hurt to do it.”

  “No, you have it wrong,” I argued heatedly. “I thought you’d stop if I was in the way. And you did. I know you pretty well too, you know.”

  He shook his head. “You’re a fool if you think you know me. This side you bring out... It’s about this much of me.” He held up his hand to show me about an inch gap between thumb and forefinger. “And even that’s too much as far as I’m concerned. The rest of me you wouldn’t like, I promise you.”

  I put my hand over his inch, clinging for several long seconds. “Just because you haven’t had the opportunity to let that part out before, doesn’t mean it’s a small fraction of who you are. What if it’s the tip of a much bigger iceberg?”

  “Then I’m a dead man, plain and simple. Men like me don’t have the luxury of soft feelings.”

  Yet again I was stumped. It sounded wrong to me, and yet I knew nothing of his world, so how could I argue against his stand?

  “Am I interrupting?” Mason asked dryly from the doorway.

  He used the exact words Jake had, when he came upon Mason and I sharing a moment earlier in the day.

  This time I didn’t pull away in shame. Jake and I were developing a bond, whether he liked it or not, and I wanted Mason to know it wasn’t some dirty little secret.

  “No, you weren’t,” Jake answered, drawing to his lips the hand still holding his. After dropping a prolonged kiss to my knuckles, he let me go.

  I wasn’t sure if the kiss was designed to bait Mason or to acknowledge the stand I’d taken. We both knew Mason considered me a fool for letting Jake get close. That he thought I was a naive and gullible virgin being conned by a scoundrel. By not stepping away I’d shown I wouldn’t be browbeaten. This was something Jake could respect.

  So maybe the action had two purposes.

  Mason took his camera from its case and, ignoring us, began playing with the dials.

  Grimacing, I sent Jake one last glance and headed for the stairs. Staying there to act as umpire was the wrong thing to do. They had to learn to get on with each other, and they couldn’t do that when I was around.

  I heard Bryce thundering down the wooden stairs just before I started up them, so I waited until he finished his descent.

  When he reached the bottom, he showed me the bulb he’d found, as if it was a gold nugget he’d dug up. Pride radiated off him in waves.

  “This is one’s hundred watts. That’ll give us plenty of light,” he announced.

  “Mason has actually taken your advice. He’s photographing the scenes. But good work. More light will make it be better for all of us when we’re down here.”

  Climbing the stairs, I listened to Bryce’s high voice mingling with the men’s lower vocal range. It wouldn’t be long before the boy’s voice broke completely and he had the same lower timbre. He was already a cute kid; a deep voice would only serve to make him that much more attractive to the girls at school. What a heartbreaker he’d soon be.

  Like Jake.

  My heart veered away from that thought. Jake wouldn’t break my heart because I wasn’t silly enough to give it to him. Nor would I risk it with Mason, who was like my father, more interested in his work than the people in his life. Even when his wife needed him, Daddy had been unwilling to desert his precious work.

  I pushed that thought from my head as well. My feelings about my father were too complicated. They hurt too much. In so many ways I’d been as fatherless as Jake and Bryce had been. Were all men disinterested in those they supposedly loved? Or was it that they put their focus where the greatest challenges were to be found. Once someone loved them there was no challenge in it, so they could take them for granted and move on to the next test of worth.

  Shivering, I headed for the kettle. A cup of tea. It was amazing how much better the world appeared after a good cuppa.

  Chapter Three

  I entered the kitchen to find Percy and Fred curled up in the crate I’d used to keep my injured cat immobilised while he healed. Moving the awkward box outside had been on my To Do List since the day before, but one thing after another had come along to get in the way. Now it seemed my pets had decided it was a perfect cubby house. As long as the lid was off, I assumed. Once it was on, they’d be clawing to escape.

  The phone rang, and my heart dropped through the floor. I never got good news via the phone. I rarely got any news via the phone. Jogging up the hall, I found Daphne standing like a guard dog by the stairs, waiting for me to put an end to the incessant sound.

  Taking a deep breath, I lifted the receiver.

  “Ahman Hall,” I said in my best posh voice.

  Mummy always insisted I answer the phone properly. I’d continued the habit because... well, because it was a habit.

  “Alfreda?” Anthony Andrews asked.

  I knew it was him because he was the only person who called me by my full first name. I supposed it was because it was what appeared on all the legal documents he handled.

  Was he calling about the restraining order the police wanted me to take out on William Watkins? Had the police notified him? I certainly hadn’t.

  “Good afternoon, Mr Andrews. How are you?” I asked politely.

  “Alfreda, I am so very sorry. I... I should have known better. I let my fear cloud my mind. But, you see, they threatened my family... I’m so very sorry...” he croaked out.

  “What’s happened?” I demanded, suddenly terrified.

  “We need to meet. I can’t tell you this on the phone. And I need to show you... Can you come to my home?” he asked. No, he pleaded.

  It was such a foreign sound for a man who never seemed to bend an inch. He was exactly what was meant when someone was described as having a stick up their butt.

  My mind was in chaos. It was almost dinnertime and Mason would be heading off back to his accommodation for the night. Bryce would be going home, too. How did I get to Mr Andrews detached cottage on the edge of Wiggleswick? I didn’t have a car anymore.

  I could ask Jake or Mason to take me. Maybe Mason would fit better in the solicitor’s home. But Jake would better understand the situation if someone was being threatened.

  “Alfreda? It is a matter of some urgency...”

  My father’s partner’s insistent voice drew me from my internal debate. “Yes. Yes, I’ll come over immediately.”

  I heard the relief in the silence that followed. This was bad. This was very bad.

  After hanging up, I glanced at Daphne, who’d heard both sides of the conversation.

  “What do you think this is about?” I asked her.

  “Something to do with your inheritance, I’d guess. What else has he been dealing with over the last few years? Maybe someone is putting pressure on him, in the same way they’ve been putting pressure on you to sell.”

  “But he can’t make me sell. If he could, he would have done so by now. He’s been very insistent at times.” I remembered how he’d tried to gently browbeat me into selling the house to pay my taxes. My lack of sense where financial matters were concerned annoyed him greatly.

  “You have to go with Jake,” Daphne said. “You need someone who can protect you. This might be a trap or something.”

  I laughed. Not her musical trill, but my loud guffaw that was anything but lady-like. “You have been watching too much Criminal Minds,” I finally got out.

&n
bsp; She didn’t laugh back. Instead, she huffed out her annoyance. “This is no laughing matter. Something has put the fear of God into that snooty solicitor, and he’s terrified. You need to remember someone kicked your dog to death yesterday. You need protection!”

  I sighed, sure she was blowing this out of proportion. Yes, someone had tried to bully me into selling, but that person was currently locked up. But I did need a lift, and Jake seemed the right person for the job, so I wouldn’t argue about it.

  “All right, I’ll ask Jake. Maybe Mason can take Bryce home. The boy will be disappointed not to get his ride on the motorcycle, but there’ll be another time, I’m sure.”

  I hurried downstairs, where the three males still seemed to be.

  “Jake, will you take me over to my solicitor’s house?” I asked as soon as I got to the bottom of the stairs.

  I seemed to have interrupted another heated debate. All three males looked my way.

  “Now?” Jake asked tersely.

  “Yes. Please. He seemed to think it was urgent. He said he was sorry and that he’d only done it because they threatened his family. It’s a bit of a worry...”

  He blinked several times, processing what I’d said. But before he could reply, Mason spoke up.

  “You can hardly turn up somewhere important on the back of a motorcycle. I’ll take you.”

  “You can’t defend her. I’m taking her,” Jake growled, his tone brooking no argument.

  Acting as if the decision was made, I turned to Mason. “Can you take Bryce home when you leave? That would be very helpful. I don’t want the lad walking around on his own. Not now.”

  Mason seemed ready to argue, but Jake took my arm and began leading me back to the stairs. I hoped they’d lock up after themselves.

  In no time, Jake and I were heading down the drive to the front lane. This was my third ride on his bike and, though it still gave me a thrill, the elation was tempered by fear of what I was about to face.

  Once we reached the edge of town I directed Jake to Andrews’ house. While he turned off the great growling beast of a bike, I removed my helmet and studied the solicitor’s home. It was about 6 pm, and though the sun was not yet set, the shadows were growing, largely because thick clouds hung low in the skies. It wouldn’t rain this evening, but you could feel moisture in the air, even so.

 

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