Jacob #2
I throw off the sheets and swing my legs out of bed, surging to my feet. I’m out of my bedroom and down the hall in seconds then come to an abrupt stop.
Penelope is sitting at the kitchen table, the notepad I use to jot down grocery lists and other random things in front of her.
She’s still here.
The thought floats through my mind the same way one would breathe “thank god” after a close call with danger.
She pauses her pencil sketch on the notepad and looks up at me. The oppressive tension between us is still alive, the elephant in the room crushing us both. Last night, we stepped well over the line. This is something we should talk about.
I would rather rinse my eyes with mouthwash.
On the notepad, Penelope sketched a menacing dragon clutching a woman in its clawed fist. Its maw is wide open, exposing sharp teeth, and there’s a tiara mid-descent to the floor.
Her skill is impressive, as usual. The subtext couldn’t be any louder.
“Am I the dragon?”
Her lips take on a gentle twist.
“Art is subjective. Everyone’s correct in their own interpretation.”
“That’s a yes.” I indicate the flailing princess in the dragon’s grip. “And I guess that’s you, the pretty princess about to be eaten alive.”
Faint pink tinges her cheeks and she looks away. Yes, indeed. Last night, this dragon ate her pussy like it was its first meal after a thousand-year slumber.
My mind replays the filthy memories. The amazing view between her thighs then that first delicious lick that earned me the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard in my life.
Forbidden fruit really is the sweetest. The one between Penelope’s legs would make me a diabetic.
“Make a list of stuff we need,” I say to drown out my depraved thoughts. “I’m going to the store again.”
I pivot and leave the kitchen. In my bedroom, I text Elizabeth then dress.
It’s Saturday. My day off. I’m going to get some chores done around the house then relax. I won’t dwell on complicated shit. It’s been a dramatic week, and I desperately need some fucking peace and calm.
I return to the kitchen to the scent of brewing coffee and something delicious being fried. Penelope’s at the stove and the notepad is still on the table. The dragon sketch is gone, replaced by a short list of grocery items. I tear the page free and head for the coat rack.
“Hey, you can’t leave yet,” Penelope says, looking over her shoulder. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to shop for groceries on an empty stomach? That’s how you end up buying chips and candy for meals.”
“I wasn’t going to. I wanted to clear the driveway first.”
She turns her attention back to the stove.
“Well, that’ll have to wait. This is done and you’re not eating it cold.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She throws an amused look over her shoulder at me. I’m triumphant I put a smile on her face and take a seat at the kitchen table.
When she opens a cupboard and grabs a plate, I like the way she does it effortlessly. She’s accustomed to being here. She knows where things are supposed to be like if its her home.
As much as it unnerves me to admit it, I like the thought of my home being hers too.
She brings the plate over and sets it down. Two slices of toast lay beside a steaming omelette shaped like a rose. I point at the omelette.
“You made it this way on purpose?”
“Yeah. You like it?”
I nod. “Never seen it before. It’s creative.”
A shy smile curves her lips, drawing my attention to them. Temptation springs to life like it was lying in wait. I want to pull her close and—
“I didn’t come up with the idea. I saw a video of someone making one and taught myself how to do it. Aunt Dee loves them.” Her smile fades. “I was hoping Elizabeth would too.”
“Give it time. Once I clear everything up with her, you two can still have a good relationship.”
Doubt lingers on Penelope’s face as she turns back to the stove.
I cut into my omelette and fork the piece into my mouth. I have doubts too. Where do I begin clarifying this to my sister? I don’t even know how to explain what’s going on between me and Penelope to myself.
It’s illogical.
It’s wrong.
And yet it doesn’t feel that way.
It feels right.
Penelope comes over with a cup and the coffee pot, giving me a small smile before returning to making her own omelette.
Elizabeth’s words from yesterday float through my mind.
You’ll be walking her down the aisle soon, Jakey.
My sister’s comment had annoyed me because I didn’t like the reminder of the role I once played in Penelope’s life. I didn’t like the way it reinforced that Penelope was off-limits. Out of my reach.
Right now, as my sister’s words roll around in my head, a twisting sensation fills my chest.
It’s jealousy.
I’m jealous at the thought of another man making Penelope his.
Over my dead fucking body.
The last bite of my moist, flavourful omelette is harder to swallow as a staggering realization dawns.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I’m falling in love with her.
“Before you go…” Penelope takes a seat with her plate and gives me a hopeful look. “Can I use my phone? I want to talk to Aunt Dee. She hasn’t heard from me in a while and she’s probably worried.”
Still grappling with my shocking discovery, I move on autopilot. I stand and get her phone from my bedroom then return to the kitchen and hand it to her.
She looks up at me in surprise, smiling and thanking me softly as she takes it. I reclaim my seat and resume eating my breakfast, watching her as she turns on the phone. She makes a face.
“It needs charging. It’s only at—”
Her features turn grim as she taps her thumb to the screen and stares at it. She’s reading something she doesn’t like.
“What is it?”
She looks up at me, fear in her eyes. “It’s Cedric. He knows I lost my job and that I’m not in Toronto anymore.”
I hold out my hand. “Give it to me.”
She passes the phone to me. I scowl at the texts on the screen.
Cedric: I heard you’re out of a job and you’re not in town, honey. I don’t like that. Where are you?
Cedric: I hope you didn’t run away. I’ll have to visit dear Auntie Deanna and Cousin Kevin. See how they’re doing.
Rage lights inside me. It burns hotter when I glimpse previous texts from him. Not only is he charging Penelope a hundred dollars a day as a late fee, the motherfucker suggested she could suck his dick every day to waive it.
I’m in danger of snapping Penelope’s phone in half. It’s what I would love to do to Cedric Rourke’s neck.
“When is the next payment due?”
“Next Tuesday.”
“It works out. You’ll be home next Monday.”
She plays with her fingers, a worried expression on her face.
“What if he isn’t that patient because I already missed a payment? He’ll hurt Aunt Dee and Kevin.”
I soften my voice. “It won’t come to that, Penny. Violence is a last resort. It’s a risk you’ll report it and attention is bad for his kind of business.”
“He probably thinks I won’t because he warned me that he has cop friends.”
“Fuck his intimidation tactics. He isn’t friends with all of them.” I hand her back the phone. “Tell him you’ll bring him his money next Tuesday.”
Worry persists on her face as she takes the phone. She parts her lips as if to speak then closes them. She drops her gaze to the phone and taps her thumbs on the screen.
I take a big gulp of my coffee, hoping the hot liquid will burn away the guilt in my chest. Elizabeth finding out about us, my discovery that I’m falling for Penelope, and Cedric’s threat—all signs I should let Penelope go.
She’s already endured enough. I could take her home today and pay off her debt in full like I planned to do yesterday. She could resume her life in peace, free from Cedric’s clutches.
But then she’ll be free from mine too.
* * *
“Lemme guess.” Lewis gestures at the vibrant orange snow shovel in my hand. “Third one this winter?”
I chuckle. “How’d you know?”