Sparking Ch. 06

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Their POV: actions and consquences.
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Part 6 of the 8 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/31/2006
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I ignored the many faces turned to me in rabid interest of the incredibly horrifying scene my mother -- no not mother, but caretaker -- made moments earlier.

Shards of my life that never fit together finally made sense. I understood why they slept in separate rooms -- Mary never could forgive him his indiscretion and sought to punish him.

Every child has a sixth sense about the moods of the adults that make up their world -- I always knew "Mother" wasn't to be bothered by any of my problems. I also remember hearing stories about how my birth rendered her unable to conceive again; that was part of her pain. Some other woman had given my father a child and how it must've knifed her seeing me every day. Whatever troubles she had conceiving might've been repaired had it not been for me.

I blindly walked out the front door, no destination in mind. Where does one go when the very foundations of the world have so thoroughly destroyed?

I hadn't realized until she stripped the blinders from my eyes, how much I had identified myself as Penelope Elizabeth Hardy, daughter to John and Mary Hardy. Now I felt as if I was floating free of any tethers. The pain Barry dealt me with his perfidy was nothing compared to this. I know now he hurt my pride, but never touched the inner core of emotions.

Though I'd been absent from this area for five years, my feet knew exactly where to take me. I looked up in shock as I realized I had walked three miles from my childhood house to the bar on the fringes of town.

The Black Stallion, a seemingly noble name, was a roughneck bar where no sane woman ventured without mace, a battalion of guards, and a metal chastity belt. I knew I would get into trouble as soon as I walked through those double glass doors. Yet, at this moment, I would've welcomed the heated embrace of the Dark Angel himself if it would've brought oblivion.

****

James looked at Mary with as much disdain as her disavowed daughter.

"Was that necessary? She just lost her father today, did you really need to strip her of her mother as well?"

Mary's mouth pursed as if she'd bitten into something rotten.

"Oh, don't give me that 'butter won't melt in my mouth' look Mr. Ryan. I know the escapades you got into with my husband, may his soul rot in hell!"

James grinned, his bared teeth looking extremely white and sharp in the reflected light of the back porch lamp.

"Now I understand why John fucked as many women as he did. If I were he and had you to come home to, I would've split any pussy that came within 10 feet of me. Oh wait, he did."

A hard look came into her eyes, her soul shriveled and gone from years of festering hatred and scorn.

"I know you liked to share women with him. I wonder if you'll share his daughter too."

A harsh laugh escaped at his surprised look.

"Oh, what, John didn't brag to you about the nights he would spend with her while I waited for him? Penny, his precious baby girl, needed him. Well, so did I!"

John shook his head at her debased accusations. While John may have fucked his way through half of this town, he'd bet his last dollar, nay his soul, that nothing but pure love ever entered his heart towards Penelope.

"Well, just so you know, John left you the house." When he first learned of the conditions of the will, he wondered at his partner's specifications. Now James understood. "Everything else goes to Penelope, including the land the house was built on."

Leaving Mary sputtering behind him, James followed the path Penelope blazed a few minutes before.

****

Hell, even here I couldn't find what I was looking for. After all the stories I'd ever heard about this place, I figured I would open the doors and find Sodom & Gomorrah returned at last.

Instead I found a dive bar with bad lighting, poor music, crappy drinks, and enough smoke in the air to kill off a third world nation. Not to mention some of the most hideous looking waitresses I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.

As I sat at the bar, contemplating whether or not to drink the rum and coke I'd ordered (the glass looked as if it hadn't been washed since 1953), I heard heavy footsteps thudding across the wooden floor. Deciding I wasn't feeling so bad I would take my life in hand by drinking it, I swiveled my head and stared into the deep green eyes of Mr. Ryan.

In spite of the circumstances I found myself in, and the fact I'd only known him a short while, my lips curved upward into a half grin. Perhaps he would be willing to help me find the trouble I came looking for and had yet to find.

I carefully placed the glass back on the bar in front of me so I could fully turn to face him. There was a presence about him that drew me and I wondered at its power. I quelled the urge to lick my lips and instead murmured,

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you walk into mine."

****

Oh god, here she is again.

The impish smile she bestowed upon him scrambled his brains and shot straight to his groin. The sub part of her personality was peeking out again and he desperately wanted to capture that elusive woman. They'd only exchanged a dozen words and glances, yet there was a powerful lure that drew him to her.

"Bogart fan, eh?" The words were from a distant part of his brain that somehow worked despite the reverse flow of blood.

She shrugged one shoulder and flipped her pale brown hair out of her eyes with a head toss. He wondered when her hair had fallen from its bun then immediately dismissed the thought as irrelevant. The most important question was how fast could he convince her she belonged in his bed tonight?

Whoa, cowboy. She just lost her father and now her mother. Her world is upside down. Tomorrow is a better time to fuck.

"It seemed appropriate to say at your unexpected appearance."

He nodded thoughtfully then leaned closer to her, as if imparting a secret. James nearly chuckled with glee when she instinctively mirrored his pose and leaned in closer as well. Though he was still taller than she was sitting, his position brought their lips within touching distance.

Deciding to take her slowly, James allowed his breath to caress her sensitive lower lip and slip into her half-opened mouth. Ignoring the clamoring demands of his lower body, he whispered, "I always thought Rick was a fool for letting Elsa go. If she'd been my woman, I would've fought for her no matter what."

Leaning back, he nonchalantly raised his arm to signal the bartender behind her, hoping she wouldn't notice the quivering of his thighs.

****

I swallowed hard as I processed his words. I looked at him, really looked at him, and realized I didn't doubt him at all. His brown hair (several shades darker than my own) was attractively disheveled, a state reached only with an expensive haircut. How I longed to run my fingers through that thick mass and clutch him to me with gasping passion.

Blushing slightly at the direction of my thoughts, I tried to draw the focus away from my lust and back to more practical matters.

"How did you find me? I didn't even know I was coming this way until I got here."

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned. Ordinarily I would never thought I'd be attracted by a man's wrinkles, but they were expressive and showed he liked to smile and laugh. A happy man.

"Pure chance. A couple sitting outside in their truck saw you walking away and so I followed. I hoped to talk to you about your father's will."

Any pleasure I derived from his presence immediately drained. I hadn't forgotten my father's corpse lying beneath 6 feet of loam, but I had wanted a mental vacation from the scene I left behind. The will.

I harrumphed. He glanced at me questioningly, but I shook my head to indicate disavowal of my action. I wasn't ready to speak about what he witnessed. A shadow of Barry taunted me with the knowledge Mr. Ryan hadn't sought me out for personal reasons, but merely for business.

Shaking myself clear of any fancy he was actually interested in me as anything beyond his partner's daughter, I allowed that bright hope to fade quietly. At heart, I am a realist and understood no matter how much I wanted to hide my head in the sand this particular problem wouldn't be solved in that manner.

"I never envisioned this conversation taking place in a dive place like this, but hear me out Penelope."

I was pleasantly surprised by his use of my full name. I cannot remember the last time someone called me anything beyond "Penny." It pleased me that he took my parting words to Mary to heart and called me by my true name. I refused to believe her lies about the origin of it.

"I will skip over all the legal jargon and cut to the heart of it. Your father wanted to ensure your future would be protected and thus left you all of his worldly assets except for the house in which Mary --" here his nose rippled as if he smelled something exceedingly sour "-- claims."

Stunned, I stared at his chest, only now belatedly noticing his black and white skull and cross-bone tie. I laughed disbelievingly; here I was being told I was an heiress and I couldn't get past the fact he wore a tie like that to a funeral. It certainly was appropriate, but still.

"Why did he leave anything to me? He was so angry with me." I idly wondered aloud, not truly expecting a response. I knew my father did well in his practice, but he was a frugal man, no doubt the result of his hardscrabble life as a child.

"Whatever issues were between you two, he did love you."

I must've made a face because Mr. Ryan placed both his hands upon my cheeks and drew my head in close.

"He never said what caused the rift between you, but he missed you terribly."

It was strange to hear this, as my father had never struck me as the sentimental type. For a moment a part of me resented that this stranger has known parts of Dad I never saw. I could've sworn he was serious when he cast me from his family tree because I wouldn't conform to his idea of the "perfect" daughter.

"Yah, well, I'm surprised he left me more than a spit in the hand." I must admit curiosity had me by the tail. Exactly how much was the old man going to give me?

Mr. Ryan's response had me choking and I would've toppled off my barstool had he not grabbed at me. I pretended not to notice his hand brushed against my breasts as he released the death grip on my shoulders.

"Those are only the investments. It doesn't include the liquid assets. In fact, the land the house is built upon is worth quite a considerable sum as well."

Here my brain stopped as I tried to compute his last comment.

"What do you mean the land the house is built on? I thought he left it to her."

Mr. Ryan smiled as if he were a cat lapping at cream (oh god, wrong image to think of). "He left her the house. Not the land. So if you were to do something to the land, the house would be in the way."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Not if you have the right kind of lawyer."

We grinned at each other with perfect understanding. I was still lost in this world, but it felt good to have someone in my corner.

****

Even if it were only for a moment, James felt good to have brought a smile to her face. He knew this wouldn't be an easy transition for her, as everything she ever knew was completely gone. In some ways she was like a survivor of a bad earthquake or a tsunami; he was interested to see how she would pick up the pieces.

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READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

Sparking Ch. 05 Previous Part
Sparking Series Info

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