Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop - Part 9

Duke jerked awake to the sound of someone pounding on the door to the deck. He was still on his back, Jennifer still tangled on and around him.There was a mild tingling in his arm from her head resting on his shoulder through the night and the sun was shining on her through the window, lighting a dark fire in her hair. The bruises on her face had darkened through the night and interrupted the vision of porcelain he should have been treated to. He grimaced as he eased her to the side, his frown deepening when he felt signs of a fever on her forehead and progressing right to snarling when the pounding on the door sounded again. Pulling a pistol from the nightstand, and pulling on some pants, he went to let the visitor know that they didn't want any.



It was the detective from the day before. The one who had been questioning Jennifer.
"Duke Crocker, right?"

Duke just nodded his confirmation.

"And Jennifer Mason is your girlfriend?"

There was something in the way Detective Wuornos said it that made Duke realize the guy knew a lot more than he was playing.

"Yeah."

"Is she here?"

"What do you want?"

"I still have questions about the bombing the other day."

"She's sleeping."

The detective let something slip in his expression, a relief and shifting of burden or fear that confirmed to Duke that he knew what was going on.

"She okay?" It wasn't much more than a whisper.

Duke narrowed his eyes and considered his next response.

"I'll make sure she is."

Nathan nodded and looked away, going so far as to turn and look around. He saw members of the Guard watching him curiously. No doubt wondering if his visit to this boat was regular police business or related to the events of last night. He looked back to Crocker.

"Get the hell out of here," he grated.

"Excuse me?"

"You need to sail on." This was voiced loud enough to make sure people around the dock heard. "We don't like your kind around here."

It wasn't the first time Duke had heard that and he didn't expect it to be the last but it was pretty damn disconnected from their previous exchange. Wuornos was cagey about something.

"Get her out of here. She's not safe."

That was spoken in a whisper and Wuornos was staring at him intently.

Duke nodded.

"I'm pretty done with this shit hole anyway. I'll be out within the hour." He pitched his voice loud enough to be heard as well.

Wuornos nodded. "A police cruiser will escort you out."

Duke just grimaced.

 "Drop anchor about 10 klicks east of Sydney." He was back to whispering and seeing Duke's instinctive refusal, continued, "please. Audrey.... needs to see her. And we'll make sure she gets home safe."

The last was spoken so low that Duke almost didn't hear him. When Duke did register what he said he restrained every instinct to start kicking the guy's ass and simply nodded before slamming the door in his face.

Returning back to the stateroom he looked through the door to his room where Jennifer still slept. She would never be safe in the place she used to call home. Not as long as those bastards were still out there. But Wuornos had indicated that they either knew or suspected she was here and it wasn't a good position to defend himself and her, and take them out at the same time. Ideally, when he came after them, she would be safely ensconced in a high rise, high security hotel on an island in the Caribbean.

He mentally assembled a list of things he needed to get done as he pulled the thermometer from a small medical kit in the kitchen and set a kettle of water on to heat for tea. Sitting next to Jennifer on the bed he woke her as gently as he could and was relieved when her eyes looked clear upon opening. Clear, but more fearful than he would have liked.

"It's okay, Duchess. It's me. You're safe. I think you have a fever and we've gotta watch that because you could get really sick, okay?"

She nodded and tried to say "okay," but it was still only coming out in a rasp.

"We have to leave soon, too. Like, within the hour." She looked a little panicked.

"Don't worry. I'm just moving into the waters of Nova Scotia. We'll be safer there. There's a good chance those guys know you're here and this is a shitty spot for defense."

"My hotel room, my stuff..." She tried to sit up but winced in pain and fell back.

"You need to rest. It will be awhile before you have much strength again. And... They probably got in to your room if you had your key on you when they caught you."

"I didn't. I left it in my room... Just in case." She looked away from him, afraid of his reaction to her precautionary act.

Duke had about a million things to say to that and most of them involved the words "fuck" and "hell."  So he decided not to say anything, just staring down at her while she pretended to be interested in the stitching on his pillow case.

"Well, here's the thermometer, open up." She opened her mouth but made her resentment at being treated like a child obvious.

Duke pulled on a tank top and shrugged into a button down. "I'm going to get us ready to go. It won't take long. And I'll bring some tea in, in a few minutes. You'll need to drink it. I have aspirin for a fever reducer, is that okay?"

She nodded and he went back to her, holding his hand out for the thermometer.  She squinted at it before giving it to him. Her head was killing her and she couldn't focus well enough on it.

"A little over a hundred," he murmured. "Yeah. Definite fever. Do you feel cold or hot?"

She shrugged. "Neither, really."

"Yeah, in that robe and under the quilts you should probably be feeling hot." He sat down and brushed his hand over her head. "I'm going to take care of you, okay? I won't let anything else happen to you."

Her eyes filled with tears and more emotion than he was comfortable trying to read and he leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead before leaving the room and closing the door. Alone, Jennifer rolled over and let herself cry.

He waited until he was on the deck and putting away his scuba gear before he started swearing at her for her misplaced security measure. He moved on to swearing at her sister and what had to be her boyfriend of a partner for not only letting Jennifer fall into such danger, but basically sending her into it, and suddenly he couldn't wait to drop anchor about ten klicks off the coast of Nova Scotia and then to drop Detective Wuornos on the deck with a throat punch.

He went back down to pour the tea and take care of Jennifer.

Duke made a Sencha for himself and for Jennifer a mix of chamomile and ginger tea as an expectorant. He set her tea on a tray along with a small glass of water, aspirin and a balloon. He smiled when he imagined her reaction to the balloon. Her curiosity would spark in her eyes...

With the tray balanced in one hand, he knocked then entered the room. She was crying.

"Uh..." It felt more like someone had just throat punched him. He didn't know how to handle her tears and could think of too many things for her to cry about to start trying to comfort her. He didn't know how she would react to knowing that Audrey was alive and wanted to see her. That he was taking her somewhere safe for that to happen. He set the tray on the night stand and stood by the bed. "I'll.. um... I'll go get some tissues."

When he returned she had turned onto her back and seemed to have got most of her crying under control. He gave her one of the tissues and set the box on her other side, then sat down near her to hand her the tea. The rope was still on her wrist and they both stopped for a moment. It's not as though the events of last night were forgotten, but the rope seemed to literally tie the previous night to the morning.

Duke sighed and stood again to withdraw his pocket knife.

"I think those can come off now."

Jennifer watched the way he handled her, so completely different from her attackers of the previous night. His movements were sure and strong, the knife obviously kept sharp enough to cut through the rope easily. But the hand that held each wrist and then ankle clasped her like she was a favored treasure. A highly breakable one. And the sense of fragility made her tears come again. He sighed and she felt all the worse with what she knew was his discomfort with her tears. Between the two of them, they were forming a feedback loop of awful emotions.

When the last bit of rope was off and discarded onto the floor, and her legs covered again he put the folded knife back in his pocket and looked at her. "Do you think you could try drinking some tea?"

She nodded.

"Okay. Good. I, um, I brought you chamomile and ginger. It'll make you feel better and help get rid of any fluid or stuff in your lungs."

"Okay."

He helped her sit up and arranged the pillows behind her. She sighed.

"I feel like I'm made of jello."

His mouth formed a gentle half smile. "I bet. Hypothermia can do that to you, even if you haven't been..." He couldn't bring himself to say beaten to her. He didn't need to. The look on her face showed her understanding.

"Thank you. For saving me. Again."

He picked up the mug and helped her hold it up to her mouth.

"You're welcome." He wanted to tell her there would be no more adventures for her carrying any greater risk than riding a horse or scuba diving or anything that didn't involve her secured to his side. Instead, he helped her take another sip, and another, until she shook her head and pushed the mug away.

He figured now was a good time to show her the balloon and once the mug was back on the tray he held it up for her.

Her reaction was much like he expected, curious with a tendency toward amused.

"It's a breathing exercise. It will help make sure that you're not developing pneumonia."

She smiled and made an attempt to blow up the balloon. It wasn't a very effective attempt and she soon gave up, coughing into a tissue. Duke sat back and gave her room, waiting for the fit to pass and handing her the glass of water with the two aspirin when she was finished.

He gave the same assistance for her to take the aspirin and she grimaced at the discomfort of swallowing the tablets.

"Ugh. My throat hurts. Thanks, though."

"Yeah." Bruises on her neck marked where someone had choked her. He wondered if she would ever tell him what had happened. "Then I'm going to have to get us out of here and it will take a couple of hours to get where we're going." He had decided that she needed her rest. "Try to go back to sleep? You need your rest."

She nodded, but Duke had one more concern.

"You don't need to... use the... uh..."

She caught on right away. "No. Not right now." She couldn't tell which of them was more relieved by that answer.

"Oh, good. Okay. You'll probably feel stronger after a little more sleep. And the chamomile will actually help with that."

She smiled and clasped his hand with her own. "Duke? Will you bring me back for my stuff later? I still want to turn Audrey's stuff in."

"Uh.. Yeah. We'll figure that out later too, okay? Just don't worry about anything right now." He leaned forward and took the pillows out from behind her so that she could lay back down. Their eyes held and for a moment, Jennifer thought he would kiss her again and then she did feel hot. Instead, he left, closing the door behind him again. She heard the engine start up and soon after felt the sensation of the boat moving. The sway of the boat and the chamomile worked with her exhaustion and soon she was asleep again.

In the cargo hold,  Audrey breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the engine start and felt the ship move. They had done it. Vince and Dave had got Duke into the right place at the right time and he had got Jennifer. And finally, Nathan had come and convinced Duke to leave. Hopefully he had also convinced Duke to make the rendezvous point. If not, maybe she could convince him when she got out of the hold.

Duke was near the agreed upon rendezvous point, if a little further to the north than they might want, when he realized he had slammed the door in the detective's face without getting a time. He set the anchor and was going down for breakfast when he heard an insistent knocking come from one of the hatches on deck. Drawing his gun, he opened the hatch and promptly fought the urge to slam it shut again too.