Page 64 of Love, Untangled

He turned off the porch light, then the interior lights.

He really didn’t want her there. She blinked back tears as she rose, her legs unsteady. Love was supposed to feel good, not hurt like this. Pen’s emotions jangled together, a series of jagged, discordant keys on a chain. Nothing fit and nothing unlocked those bright, happy feelings.

She trudged home, her shoulders hunched, her vision clouded by the tears she continued to blink back.

* * *

As dawn broke, creating a kaleidoscope of pinks and golds through the clouds, shooting into the sky, a truck rattled into Penelope’s yard. She set down the mug of tea she hadn’t been drinking, her eyes burning from her long cry and a sleepless night and turned toward the windows that faced the driveway. Perhaps Carlo drove over to talk.

Her fingers gripped the counter tightly and her breath hissed past her lips when the man— What had Birdie called him? Leon, that was it! Leon slowed his truck.

She hadn’t thought about him in weeks now—assumed he wasn’t an issue. Pen dropped down to the floor and duckwalked across the room. She reached the windowsill in time to see Leon step out of his beat-up pickup. At least this time she didn’t see a rifle already in his hand.

Pen lifted her head just a tiny bit higher, peering over the window ledge even as she gripped it tightly in an effort to keep from falling. Her pulse raced and her breath sawed from her lungs.

She hadn’t thought she’d see him again, definitely not here, on her property.

Leon glanced around, seemingly confused. “Hello?” he called out. He mumbled something Pen couldn’t hear.

Fear held Pen in place. Leon had come to her home, invaded her privacy, her sense of safety.

“Girl? Are you here? Where’s the animal?” He walked toward the barn.

“Oh my…he’s looking for you, my dude,” Pen whispered.

Good thing Alpaca Man had refused to sleep in the barn after Pen got back from town yesterday; he’d made himself at home in Pen’s studio, finding the odd ends of her material to add to his bedding in there. In many ways, he was the dog she’d never had growing up, but there was no way Leon could know of Alpaca Man’s preferences.

In response to her voice, the alpaca made a soft noise as he pressed his cold nose into her side. She managed to release her fingers from the windowsill and sink them into the thick, soft fur on his head. “We have to get you out of here.”

Maybe once Leon realized Alpaca Man wasn’t in the barn he’d leave. The problem was Lydia. She should still be curled up inside. Pen’s stomach ached as she worried her lower lip. She had to save Lydia.

That was her best hope really, though she couldn’t hold out much hope—especially because the man was here, on her property. Pen kept her gaze glued on the large man’s T-shirt-clad back as she began moving toward her door. Leon reached for the barn’s door.

“Where are you? I got something to tell you.”

He wants to talk? What was this guy going on about? Pen had no clue. The only thing she was sure of was that Leon wasn’t planning to leave.

Fear swarmed her chest like a flood of hornets, stinging and burning so thoroughly she struggled to think clearly. Leon would kill Alpaca Man. What else could he possibly want? He must be angry she’d hit him, so now he wanted to hurt her pet and maybe Pen too.

He opened the barn door, calling out once more. He’d find Lydia. Oh, no. Her alpaca was probably pregnant. Pen clamped her jaw. No way she could let that man hurt Lydia, hurt the babies.

She was going to be a granny, dammit. She might not ever have human love, but she’d keep her fur babies safe. That was what mothers did.

Pen’s breathing sped up as she worked up the courage to go after him. By the time Pen rose to her feet, Leon had disappeared into the cavernous space. Fear surged through Pen, making her chest ache and her legs weak, but she managed to bolt toward her back door. She’d save Lydia. Her movements were clumsy and felt heavy. The stale, humid late summer air seemed to wait… Silent, as if uncertain what came next.

Pen flung open the door.

“Run,” she whispered to Alpaca Man, shooing him outside, toward the path he’d used hundreds, possibly thousands of times now. The animal bolted toward the line of apple trees that delineated her property from Carlo’s.

The glint of a pistol caught the morning sun and she ducked, covering her head with her hands. The report boomed and Pen screamed. Panicked, she turned toward the sound, her muscles seizing at the sight of her mother.

Her mother was here, on her property, shooting at her.

She heard grunting and puffing. Leon hurried toward her, a lumbering bulldozer. Anger flashed in his eyes and he growled. “Oi! What’s going on?”

“Not a thing. Move along now.” Mom waved her hand in an attempt to get him to leave.

“Step away from that girl. She don’t deserve whatever you have planned. I mean it, Serena. Step away!”

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