A/N: This chapter has been a struggle to write....Norman just has to play difficult, doesn't he? Hehe, but that's partially why I chose to write him...because he is such a challenge. Anyhoo, I decided to be evil and leave off with a cliffhanger. I'm going to be out of town next weekend so I don't know if I'll get chapter 5 up before then or not.

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Dusk had fallen on Renée as she passed the sign welcoming her into Tacoma, Washington. Pulling into a gas station, she tucked her hair up under her ball cap before pulling it low over her eyes and hurried inside the convenience store to pre-pay for a tank of gas. She slapped down the crumpled bills and muttered the pump number with a downcast look before rushing back outside. As she waited for the gas to finish pumping, she dialed Norman's number again and listened to the line ring with growing anxiety. The robotic sound of his message machine was cut in half by Norman's breathless 'hello'.

"Hey, it's um, it's me. Renée, I mean. I'm in Tacoma right now. I…" Her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard against the sudden sense of uncertainty welling up in her chest. She missed the sound of the pump clicking off as she watched a man cross the parking lot and climb into a beat up Jeep Wrangler. She turned her back to him and hid her face as the man roared past her and into the last of the evening rush hour traffic. Her free hand clenched into a trembling fist as she fought to control the panicky fear coursing through her as the honking horns and angrily yelled curses echoed with the shouts of her past.

Norman's worried voice broke through her troubled memories and pulled her back into the present. She reassured him she was still there as she replaced the gas cap and went back inside for her change. Half running back to the car, she sat back in the driver's seat and exhaled a panicky sigh.

"Oh, God. Norman, I thought I just saw him. I was getting gas and I swear I saw a man that looked just like him get into a Jeep just like his. I made a huge mistake coming here…. maybe I should just go back. I shouldn't be here; I shouldn't have dragged you and your family into this. I'm so sorry…" She stopped as Norman's soothing voice penetrated the panic attack storming through her over-anxious mind.

"I'm going to give you directions to my house. You did the right thing, Renée…I'm going to help you get through this, with or without my brothers and crew. I promise you that, right here and now. Vince is not going to hurt you any more…I won't let him." Digging through her purse, she grabbed a pen and jotted down the directions Norman gave her on a clean McDonalds napkin; repeating them back to him, she felt her panic attack lessen a little as she pulled away from the pump and eased into traffic with the green light.

Norman encouraged her to remain on the line until she pulled into his driveway five hours later, describing, among other things, the puppy he'd adopted from the streets and explaining how he'd agreed to watch his youngest brother's kids for the remainder of the summer. He went on to talk about some of the things he'd been thinking about doing with the kids before they went back to school. By the time she pulled up the gravel drive, she was smiling and laughing at some of the pranks he'd pulled on his brothers and crewmates.

Hanging up the phone as she turned the car off, she stepped out into the cool night air as Norman rose from his seat on the wooden porch. He clung tight to the leash he'd secured around Njord's small neck, and both laughed as the small mutt attacked the orange canvas leash with a playful growl. As Renée approached, he gave up his attack and plowed happily into the newcomer's ankles and yipped a couple times in excitement before sitting patiently on her feet.

Norman's happy smile fell as he caught sight of the fading bruises on Renée's face and neck; the healing cut across the bridge of her nose was pink and looked painful, as did the split in her lower lip. A fury he'd never experienced soured his gut as he studied his childhood friend. Passing her Njord's leash, he walked around and pulled her duffle from the backseat, surprised at the lightness of the bag. Sweeping a welcoming arm towards his front porch, he led her inside.

"I made up the spare room for you, so we can put your bag in there before I show you around. I set out some towels in case you wanted to take a shower. I wasn't sure when you'd get here, so I already ate dinner. But I can fix up something if you're hungry, no problem at all. Um, or I can fix up something to eat while you, um…get settled in and then I can show you around the house after you eat."

Leading the way upstairs, he opened the door to her room and flipped on the light. Although it was obvious that a bachelor fisherman furnished it, the room had a comforting feel to it. The bed stood along one wall while an oak dresser and small bookcase rested against the opposite wall, next to the single closet. The wall opposite the door held two large windows and the drawn curtains matched the bedspread and area rug partially hidden by the antique footlocker at the foot of the queen-sized bed.

Setting her bag down on the foot of the bed, he quickly showed her where the nearest bathroom was before awkwardly excusing himself to fix some dinner for her. Pausing halfway down the stairs, he turned back to her.

"Um…sorry. What would you like to eat?" An embarrassed smile crossed her face as she shrugged a tender shoulder. As she awkwardly asked for pancakes, she blushed as he smiled warmly and descended the stairs with a 'you got it'. She returned to the room Norman gave her and gently closed the door behind her. Renée squeezed her eyes shut against the tears threatening to fall, sniffling as a couple warm beads trailed down her cheeks. With a sigh she picked up the washcloth and returned to the bathroom down the hallway.

Soaking the cloth with warm water, she removed her ball cap and gingerly dabbed it over her healing face and neck. With a quick glance out into the hallway, she closed the door to finish freshening up before rejoining Norman. Gazing at her long, tangled hair, she frowned and searched the bathroom for a hairbrush. Finding a travel-sized brush in one of the drawers, she pulled it out and smiled faintly to herself as she drew it through her golden-brown hair.

"Renée? Food's done, whenever you're ready." Renée flinched as Norman's soft knock was followed by his gentle voice. She waited until she heard his footsteps retreat back downstairs before opening the door and making her way to the foot of the stairs. Glancing to either side of the foyer, she followed the hallway to the right and found herself in the open kitchen and dining room that overlooked a large grassy yard.

Stomach growling, Renée sat in the chair Norman held out for her. With a murmured thank you, she tucked into the homemade buttermilk pancakes with an appreciative appetite. She glanced up at Norman's smiling face as he passed her a glass of milk and returned his warm smile. After the briefest moment of eye contact, her gray eyes returned to her sticky plate as she thanked him.

Norman returned to his chair across from her, the smile fading a little at her submissive reaction but he set aside the sadness it caused and slowly drank his cup of coffee as she finished eating. He watched her from under hooded eyes as she leaned back and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt in the silence. The steady sound of Njord's breathing as he slept in the wicker basket near the back door had a soothing effect on the tense woman and Norman rose quietly as Renée stared sleepily at the plate before her. She barely registered the plate disappear and water running as Norman finished cleaning up the kitchen before returning to the table.

Sliding a calloused hand across the table, Norman's worried brown eyes met Renée's haunted grays as he gave her hand a light, comforting squeeze. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Anytime you want to talk or need anything, please let me know. I'm here for you, day or night." With a pounding heart, nerves jangling anxiously, she struggled to control her fears as she gently pulled her hand from his.

"I-Thank you. I appreciate that…and everything you've done for me. I'm sorry I've put this burden on you…I, I just didn't know where else to go." Wiping the sudden tears from her cheeks, her gaze returned to the tabletop.

"You're welcome here anytime, even when I'm out fishing. Tomorrow we'll go get you a house key made for you while we go run our errands. You can stay as long as you want to, it doesn't matter how long." For a few minutes they made a preliminary plan for the next day before Norman suggested they retire for the night. Flipping out the lights as they left the kitchen, Norman leaned down over to stroke Njord's small head. With a weary sigh, the puppy followed Renée up the stairs and, licking her fingers affectionately, trailed behind Norman before the fisherman closed his door.

Cracking her door open, Renée set her duffel on the footlocker and ripped the tags off the cheap cotton pajama set before hastily changing and crawling into bed in the darkness. A calm silence spread through the house, briefly broken by the click of nails on hardwood floor and a soft grunt as Njord curled up against the small of Renée's back; both puppy and woman took comfort in the other's warmth.

****

Sunrise found Norman up and dressed with a cup of coffee in hand. Poking his head into Renée's room, he smiled sadly as he watched her sleeping with a bruised arm draped over Njord's side. Emotions tumbled in a confused avalanche in his gut; anger battled against sadness and pride for the battered woman. With a quiet sigh, Norman returned downstairs to finish reading the newspaper and drink his coffee.

Flipping through the front section, he paused with his coffee mug halfway to his lips when a knock sounded at the front door. A quick glance at his watch confirmed the unsettling feeling beginning to churn in his stomach. Who the hell would be at the door at a quarter to six in the morning? Another knock sounded impatiently at the door, and Norman cast a glance up the stairs as Renée whispered his name. She had pulled on one of his old robes and clung to an alert Njord; the puppy's hackles were raised and his tiny teeth were bared in a silent snarl. Norman motioned for her to return to her room with a whispered, "shut your door; I'll get you when I'm done here."

Peering out the narrow window beside the door, he pulled the door open a fraction as the man outside raised his fist to pound again. Although Norman's expression was neutral, annoyance at being disturbed at this hour flashed briefly in his eyes. The man on the other side of the door tried pushing his way inside, but ended up scowling as the Seattle born Norwegian barred his entrance.

"If you're selling something, I'm not interested and neither are the neighbors so you can save us both our time and just leave. You might have better luck in the next county east of here." As Norman began to swing the door shut, Vince's hand stopped the heavy oak door before it latched and pushed. The annoyance quickly gave way to anger at the other man's persistence and it showed in the set of Norman's sea-worn features.

"Mister, what do you want? Make it quick because right now you're trespassing on private property." Norman kept a tight grip on the door as he held the man's darkening gaze. When Vince spoke, it was low and dangerous.

"You have something that belongs to me, and I want her back! So where the fuck is she! I know she's here, so just tell her to hurry her ass out here so we can leave you alone." Shaking his head, Norman refused to budge again as Vince tried pushing past him. Norman's patience snapped and he glared angrily at Vince through the partially opened door.

"Last I checked, there hasn't been slavery for nearly a hundred years. I don't know what you're talking about…but I wouldn't give you anything except an escort off my property, even if I did know. You have five seconds to get off my property and on the road before I show you the way, starting now!" As Vince's hand quickly shot towards Norman's face, the fisherman neatly caught him by the wrist and slammed the door hard against the trapped forearm. A sickening crack echoed in the small foyer as the force of the solid oak door broke both bones in Vince's arm. Norman caught the door as it bounced back, and he glared down at the black haired man doubled over in pain. He ignored Vince's shrill screams of agonoy as he gave his final warning.

"Last warning! Off my property!" In his anger, Norman slammed the door shut and twisted the deadbolt shut. He'd taken five steps forward when the narrow window shattered; turning he watched as Vince reached inside to twist the deadbolt and shove the door open. In moments Norman had reappeared from the kitchen with a pair of large fillet knives in hand and was striding toward Vince.

As he saw the furious Norman closing the distance between them, he reached around with his left hand and fumbled awkwardly at something tucked in his jeans' waistband. Pulling out a pistol, he cocked the hammer and aimed it straight for Norman's chest. A triumphant grin was brightened by a psychotic glint in Vince's eyes as he fought to steady the pistol aimed at the man before him. Anxiously licking his lips, he repeated his question as he slowly lowered the gun's hammer before drawing it back again.

"I won't ask again…where is Renée? Tell me the truth, or I swear to GOD I will fucking kill you!" Norman's eyes flashed from anger to surprise to a wide-eyed flinch as a deafening report boomed through the front of his house. Time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl as both knives clattered to the hardwood floor from nerveless fingers and he stared numbly over Vince's shoulder at the woman behind him, revolver in both her trembling hands. His breath grew ragged as his heart pounded in fear and he met her horrified stare.

Oh no, please God, NO! Not now, not like this!


Copyright Alissa Franko 2009