The Siren
“A little over a year…and a few months.”
“She doesn’t know?”
“Nope. She only asked me to move in because I sort of hinted that I might have to move back to Kentucky. I thought if I told Nora I might be moving…”
“You wanted to see how she would react,” Zach said with a sad half smile. “And she called your bluff.” Zach couldn’t stop himself from recalling the day he told Grace he was moving to the States. If that’s what you want, Zachary, wasn’t the answer he’d been hoping for.
“That she did.” Wesley grinned at Nora who looked away from her fan long enough to return the smile.
“I see it worked for you. Didn’t work quite so well for me. I think I underestimated you, Wesley.”
“I hope I overestimated you,” Wesley said, and Zach felt a quick pang of guilt.
“I’m not your competition, young man. I am still married after all.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Wesley said with far too much bitterness for someone so young. “Holy vows have never stopped her before. Yours won’t, either.”
“Yours seem to have stopped her.”
Wesley said nothing for a moment, and Zach knew he’d misspoken.
“She told you I was still a virgin?”
Zach heard Wesley’s wounded pride.
“I’m sorry, Wesley. I accused her of taking advantage of you and she was simply defending herself.”
“It’s okay,” Wesley said. “I’m not ashamed of it. I’m just…waiting.”
“For her?”
“You think I’m an idiot, right?”
“Of course not. But whether you like to admit it or not, she is fourteen years older than you. These sorts of relationships rarely work out even under the best of circumstances. Not if experience is any indicator.”
“Yeah, well, whose experience?”
Zach looked from Wesley and back at Nora. He stared at her but didn’t see her. Instead, he saw a door and the door opened and standing in the doorway was Grace, and no woman in the history of the world had ever looked so brave or so scared or so beautiful standing in a doorway.
“Mine.”
Wesley didn’t answer. Zach didn’t know what to say to comfort him. If he had any words of comfort, he would have told them to himself. But there was nothing but the cold, hard truth that loving someone and being loved back was only the beginning, not the end, of all the pain.
The young man in the green jacket came to Nora with his book to sign. Zach heard Nora asking for his name and if he wanted her to write anything in particular in his book.
“How about, ‘To my number one fan, Fuck me,’” the young man said leaning over the table. “And then sign it in blood.”
Zach’s stomach dropped when the man pulled out a small thin, knife and started to climb onto the table. Wesley was already on his way to Nora. It was a good thing, too, because Nora had pushed back out of her chair and the man loomed only inches from her. He saw her back pressed to the wall.
It seemed to happen in slow motion. Wesley jumped up on the signing platform and dragged the man back by his jacket and threw him down hard to the floor.
“Zach, get her out of here!” Wesley shouted at him.
The urgency in Wesley’s voice jarred Zach from his state of shock. He ran to Nora and grabbed her by the arm.
“No, Zach,” she said, trying to get to Wesley. For a second time since meeting her he was shocked by how much strength was hidden in her small frame.
“This way,” Lex said and Zach finally steered Nora away from the crowd and toward the bookstore’s stockroom. As he dragged her away he glanced up to the second floor. The man in the gray suit had pulled out a cell phone and was dialing a number. Zach hoped it was 911. They reached the stockroom and Lex locked the door.
Nora was already on her way to the door when Zach stopped her, blocking the door with his body.
“Get out of my way,” she ordered with shocking ferocity. “Wes is out there with that lunatic.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Zach said, not sure he believed his own words. But he knew if the man was dangerous then it was Nora who he was after, not Wesley. “Stay back here until it’s safe.”
“He’s right. I’ll go check on things,” Lex said and hung up the phone. “I’m sure security’s got him by now.”
“Please,” she begged, “make sure Wes is okay.”
Lex left them in the stockroom and Zach locked the door again.
“Yet another reason why I avoid signings,” Nora said, pacing the floor. Her high heels echoed ominously against the cold concrete floor.
“I see. This happens a lot at your appearances?”
Nora shook her head. “I’ve had my fair share of crazies. But this is the first one with a knife.”
“Well, violent erotica will give the crazies ideas.”
Nora looked up at him sharply.
“Are you blaming my books for this?”
“Of course not. It’s only that stories with sexual violence in them will attract violent people. It appeals to the baser instincts.”
“Baser instincts? Violent people? My readers are housewives and college girls and a few straight guys who are trying way too hard to find out what women want in the bedroom. I don’t write for insane people. Is it Salinger’s fault that Mark David Chapman misread Catcher in the Rye?”