A/N: See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

Chapter Summary: When Tiffany's abusive husband comes around to the Haven Lake Bakery weeks after her departure, Louise, George, and Mark are in mortal danger.

Chapter 6: The Lioness

Tiffany's friend in Ontario agreed to let her move in with her for a while, and after Tiffany left Haven Lake, everything basically went back to business as usual. The next few weeks flew by, and before Louise knew it, it was early August. School would begin for Angie during the second week of September, and Melissa's tutor, Mrs. Hendrix, would be resuming Melissa's studies during that week as well. But even though Louise was so happy that Melissa and Angie were having so much fun out in Colorado, she missed her little girls terribly, and she was counting down the seconds to their return.

"Don't worry, Louise. They'll be back home before you know it," Mark assured her. He and George were sitting at a table with Louise at a quarter to one after the threesome ate lunch together that day, and as usual, the conversation had gravitated towards Melissa and Angie and their summer vacation in Colorado.

"I know they will be. And I know that this is a good experience for them. It's good for them to be able to get out of Massachusetts; see other parts of the country. But I can't wait until next month when they finally come home. I've missed them so much."

"Now you see, Louise? That's why you need to get together with me," said George.

"Here we go again," Louise responded with her usual eyeroll.

"If you hooked up with me, you wouldn't have to worry about the bakery or bills or anything else. I'd give you more money than you could spend. And you wouldn't be stuck here while your little girls were on vacation somewhere; anytime that you wanted to go on vacation, I'd take you and the girls anywhere on the planet y'all wanted to go."

"Speaking of going somewhere, George, you're going back to New York this coming Monday, aren't you?" asked Louise.

"Yeah. I reached an agreement with my general managers. Startin' Monday, I'll be spendin' two weeks out of the month in New York, meetin' with potential clients and helpin' my managers run the business, and for the other two weeks of the month, I'll turn all my work over to my managers while I relax and enjoy myself here in Haven Lake with my beautiful Louise."

Mark chuckled at that, and Louise quickly corrected him, telling him, "Well, you are half-right, George. I am beautiful. However, I am not yours. The only Man I will ever belong to is Jesus Christ. Period."

"Oh, I'm sure Jesus shares," George responded with a huge grin while Louise rolled her eyes at him once again.

Before either Louise or Mark could say anything to George, a big, tall, muscular blonde man with cold gray eyes entered the bakery, and the instant they all saw him, their hearts stopped. It was Tiffany's husband.

In the next moment, both George and Mark rose from their seats, purposefully standing between him and Louise.

"What are you doing here, Brock?" Mark angrily asked him.

He then pulled out a pistol, held it to Mark's chest, and said, "I ask the questions here. I'm in charge here. I want to speak to Louise. Now." Louise and Hugh Brock had only seen each other once before, and it had taken Brock all these weeks to finally uncover the truth about who it was that had helped Tiffany get away from him, but now that he knew the truth, Louise Wood was a name this man would never forget.

"Listen, pal. If you want to get to Louise, you're going to have to go through me to do it," Mark warned.

"And me," George added.

Louise then wheeled herself out from behind the both of them and she said, "Mark, George, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but he's come into my bakery. That makes this my responsibility. I'll handle it from here. Brock, what do you want?"

He then pointed his pistol up at the ceiling and fired a shot to scare everyone – Louise in particular.

"First of all, I want all three of you to know that I mean business. If I don't get what I came here for, people will get hurt. Killed, if necessary. Second, what I want is very simple. I just want to know where my wife is. I don't even want the money in your cash register, which I could easily take right now if I were in the mood to do so. All I want is the location of my wife and the number of the place she's staying at. Just that one little bit of information is all you have to give to me, Louise, and nobody gets hurt here today. You tell me how to get in touch with my wife, and I leave here and never come back, and we all go on with our lives. It's all very simple."

"How simple is it for Tiffany, the poor woman you've been beating every day for the past eight years?" Louise asked in her best no-nonsense tone.

In the next few moments, Brock slammed the table with his free hand, and then he got right in Louise's face and yelled, "I'm warning you, Louise! You do not want to mess with me!"

Without a moment's hesitation, George grabbed Brock by the arm, physically pulled him away from Louise, and yelled, "And you don't wanna mess with me! Now I'm warnin' you, chump! If you do anything to hurt Louise and I do mean anything, I am gonna kill you with my bare hands!"

"You do realize that I'm holding the gun, right?"

"I don't care! Nobody hurts Louise! EVER! Not while I have anything to say about it!"

"Right on, George!" Mark said aloud.

"Mark, George, I appreciate you guys trying to protect me, but like I said a few moments ago, this is my responsibility. Brock, I'm the one who helped your wife get away from you. Your problem is with me, not them. This is not about George, and this is not about Mark. This doesn't have anything to do with them. Let them go. It's only fair."

"Louise, there ain't a snowflake's chance in hell I'm leavin' you alone with this maniac!" George yelled.

"George speaks for both of us," Mark concurred.

Again, Brock fired a shot at the ceiling, and he shouted, "I decide who stays and who goes! Once and for all, I am the one who's in charge, here, not any of you! You all do what I say to do! Back! Into the kitchen! All of you! Now!"

"Alright, alright," said Mark as he took the handlebars of Louise's wheelchair and began pushing her towards the kitchen. "We're going into the kitchen. Just calm down."

As soon as they were all in the kitchen, Brock got right in Louise's face again and told her, "Now listen. I know you know where my wife is and you are going to tell me. If you don't, these two men are going to die and so are you, and it'll be your fault. Do you understand me?" he asked as he pointed the gun directly in her face.

"I understand," Louise gasped.

He then straightened up and said, "Good. Now here's what's going to happen. Louise, you took away my wife and when you did that, you wrecked my entire world. My whole life is completely messed up right now all because you had to go sticking your nose into private matters that don't concern you. And because you messed with me, I'm going to mess with you. Since you took my wife away from me, I'm taking your wheelchair away from you."

"You can't be serious," Mark protested.

Brock then held the gun right up to Mark's chest and said, "I'm dead serious. Like I said before, I'm the one who's in charge now. Pick Louise up out of her wheelchair and set her down on the floor. Now."

Mark sighed, and then, looking at Louise with apologetic eyes, he reached down to her. Louise wrapped her arms around Mark's neck in that moment, and he picked her up out of her wheelchair. Afterwards, he gently set her down on the floor while Brock folded up her wheelchair, picked it up, and set it down just outside the kitchen door. George then sat down beside Louise on the kitchen floor.

"Are you alright, Louise?" George asked her.

Louise nodded and replied, "I'm alright, George."

In that moment, Mark sat down on the other side of Louise, and then Brock came back into the kitchen and knelt before Louise, getting at eye-level with her.

"Alright, now listen, Louise. This is what's going to happen. I'm going to go outside and I'm going to wait. I'll leave you in here with your two friends for a while. I'll give you plenty of time to think it over. And then when I come back in here, I expect you to do the sensible thing and tell me how I can get in touch with my wife. After you do that, I leave, and we all move on with our lives."

"You listen, you worthless punk! I don't care how much time you give me, I am never going to help you get in touch with Tiffany, so why don't you save yourself the time and leave right now?"

He then pointed the gun at Louise again and said, "I'll leave when I say it's time for me to leave! How many times do I have to remind you that I'm the one with the gun?!" It was in that following moment that Louise's emerald ring – the ring Mark had given to her when he proposed, which she now wore on her right ring finger in honor of their friendship – sparkled in the corner of Brock's eye. As soon as he looked and saw the ring, he grabbed her right hand and said, "You know what? Maybe, just maybe, if I take this beautiful ring away from you, it'll finally get through your head that I'm the boss right now."

"No!" Louise cried out as he forcefully pulled the ring off her finger.

"Don't worry about the ring, Louise. It doesn't matter," Mark said gently.

Brock rose and put the ring in the right pocket of his jeans, and then he walked out of the kitchen. After changing his mind about the cash register and emptying it, he went to the door, flipped the sign from Open to Closed, and locked it. A couple of minutes later, Frank and Heather, who'd gone out to eat lunch together, arrived back at the bakery in Heather's car. After Heather parked her car, she and Frank got out and walked up to the door, and Heather tried to open it in vain.

It was then that Frank saw Hugh Brock through the window, holding up his gun. He gasped and cried out, "Heather, look!"

"Oh, God!" Heather gasped. "Frank, we have to call the police!"

"I'll go call the cops. You just get in your car and go home. Get your baby out of danger!" Frank told her. Heather was now six months pregnant and it showed. Her belly was bigger and rounder than ever.

Heather nodded, and then she turned around and hurried back to her car and quickly got away from the bakery while Frank ran to the nearest payphone and called the police.


Police cars were soon lined up just outside of the Haven Lake Bakery, and the area was flooded with cops, spectators, and local news reporters. Five grueling hours passed with Brock talking to a hostage negotiator, and even after all that time, they were still at a complete impasse. Brock refused to release Louise, George, or Mark, and the police refused to do anything to help him get in touch with Tiffany. To make matters worse, Brock fired his gun several more times during that period, scaring the crowd and Louise, George, and Mark to death.

During those five hours, either George or Mark had remained standing by the kitchen door the entire time, cracking the door a bit to watch the negotiations taking place between Brock and the police and telling the others what was going on. Now, though, both George and Mark were sitting on either side of Louise on the kitchen floor.

"This is all just so insane," said Louise. "Beating your wife to a pulp for eight years. Holding three people hostage. Wasting your life threatening, hurting, and stealing from people. It just doesn't make any sense."

"People like him never make sense, Louise," Mark told her. "Don't waste any time or energy trying to figure that monster out. There is no sense to be found in evil."

"I know you're right," Louise sighed. "I'm just so angry. Angry about this whole thing. I didn't do anything wrong. I just tried to help a battered and abused woman get away from her abuser. I know I did the right thing by helping Tiffany."

"You're right," Mark agreed. "You did do the right thing by helping Tiffany Brock. No one is blaming you for this, Louise. This is his doing, not yours."

"But you and George are both in danger now, and I'm furious about that. It's so unfair. It's like I said this afternoon: this is my responsibility. I'm the one who chose to help Tiffany escape from him. If anybody's going to be in danger now, it should be me and only me, not the two of you."

"Well if I had to choose between me being in danger or you being in danger, I'd choose myself every single time," Mark told Louise honestly.

"And so would I," said George as his eyes locked with hers, and Louise smiled.

"You really mean that, don't you?" she asked him.

"Of course I do," George said kindly.

"That's very sweet, George. I know that you and I are friends now, but still, why would you want to choose to be danger for someone you've only known for a few weeks?"

"Do you want the truth?" asked George.

"Yes," Louise replied.

"I'm in love with you."

"Here we go again," said Louise as she rolled her eyes.

"No, no, look. I'm serious. I know I joke around all the time about me wantin' us to start dating, but the truth is, when you came into my office in May in that red dress, looking so gorgeous, and you warned me not to mess with you and you put me in my place, I fell head over heels in love with you."

"You fall in love mighty fast. Did you fall in love with your wife so quickly?"

"I sure did. I knew after just one date with Weezy that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her."

"Weezy?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, you see…my wife's name was Louise, just like yours. And I always called her 'Weezy.' That was my nickname for her."

"'Weezy,' huh? That's cute," Louise said with a smile.

"I always thought so," George responded with a sad smile of his own. He so yearned to be able to call Louise by her nickname now. "Anyway, like I said, I fell in love with you the instant you showed up in my office that day. And the more I've gotten to know you, the deeper I've fallen. Mark had a long talk with me a while back. He told me all about everything you've survived; everything the Forty-Niner did to you."

Louise stiffened then, and she said, "I don't need your pity, George."

"I don't pity you, Louise. In fact, it's the exact opposite. I am amazed by you. I am blown away by you. You have survived so much; you have accomplished so much. You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met. I admire you so much. And I would do anything for you, Louise. I really would."

After a long pause, Louise took George's hand, gave it a loving squeeze, and told him, "You're a very sweet man, George. You really are." Louise continued holding George's hand for the next few seconds, which sent electricity through George's soul – just as it had the first time she held it so many years ago – and then she let go, which drove George crazy inside. Being without Louise all these years was pure agony for him, and being in her presence again, seeing her beautiful face, hearing her deep voice, touching her skin, was like a drug to him. His entire being ached for more.

"Anyway," Louise sighed, bringing George's thoughts back to reality, "you're right, George. I have been through much. I have survived much, just as Mark has. We've both endured rape. Beatings. Torture. I've had both my legs broken more times than I can count when the Forty-Niner had us trapped in that hellhole. And I know that I did not survive all of that just so I can cave into fear and let myself get killed by some stupid bully now. I went through too much to let my life be taken from me now. So did you, Mark. I've been sitting here on my behind for hours, shaking in my skin, terrified that I'll never see my babies again, just waiting for something to change, but enough is enough. Nothing is going to change on its own. Nothing is going to change until somebody stands up to that bully and takes care of him once and for all."

"If you've got a plan, Louise, we're all ears," Mark told her.

"I do have a plan. But if I'm going to go through with it, I'll need my wheelchair back. Can one of you manage to sneak it back in here without him noticing?"

"I'll do it," said George. He then tiptoed up to the kitchen door and quietly opened it just enough for him to reach Louise's wheelchair. He carefully watched Brock for the next several moments as he continued staring out the bakery window, talking to the hostage negotiator on the telephone, and when George was certain that Brock wasn't going to turn around, he picked up the wheelchair and quietly brought it into the kitchen.

Once Mark had picked Louise up and got her settled back in her wheelchair, she looked up into his and George's faces and told them, "Mark, George, I have a plan to get us out of this, but in order for it to work, you're both going to have to do exactly as I tell you. Furthermore, you're going to have to trust me completely. You're going to have to trust me with your lives. Gentlemen…do you trust me?"

"Yes," answered George.

"Of course," Mark replied.

"What do we need to do?" George inquired.

"I'm going to have to push myself out there as quietly as humanly possible. While I'm out there doing what I need to do, I need you two to stay in here and be just as quiet as you can be."

"That's crazy!" Mark protested.

"We ain't lettin' you go out there, Louise," George told her.

"That's suicide," said Mark.

"This is where the trusting me part comes in. You two just told me that you were willing to trust me completely, even trust me with your lives. So now is the time for both of you to put your money where your mouths are."

"But Louise–" George protested.

"Louise, we can't let you go out there," Mark insisted. "You could be killed!"

In that moment, Brock fired off another shot, and then he began yelling and screaming at the hostage negotiator.

"Listen to me, you two. That maniac out there is losing what little bit is left of his mind, and it won't be long now before he kills all three of us. I'm not just trying to save your lives; I'm trying to save my own life as well. If the two of you care about me as much as you claim, then you have got to let me. Mark, George, let me go out there and do what I need to do to put an end to all this. If there was ever a time for you to put your trust in me, for the love of heaven and earth, let that time be now."

Brock's shouting suddenly became even louder, and once again, he fired off his gun.

"Alright, that's it. I'm going out there," Louise told them.

"But Louise–" George protested.

"Stay here," said Louise before George could finish. "Both of you."

And then, not willing to argue with the two men any longer, Louise quickly wheeled herself out of the kitchen before Mark and George could block her exit. They now watched her every move through the cracked kitchen door like a couple of hawks.

"NOW YOU LISTEN TO ME!" Brock yelled into the phone while staring out of the bakery windows, as Louise ever so carefully inched her way up to the counter in the background. "I HAVE HAD IT WITH ALL YOUR DELAYS!" he shouted as Louise carefully and quietly opened one of the lower cabinets of the counter. She then reached down, got out her purse, unzipped it, and pulled out a key, all the while being as quiet as a mouse. "I WANT TO TALK TO MY WIFE NOW!" Brock screamed as Louise carefully set her purse down on the floor, again, being deathly quiet. "NOT IN AN HOUR! NOT TOMORROW! NOW!" he screamed as Louise unlocked one of the top drawers of the small counter that was right next to the display of cakes and pastries.

It was in that moment that Louise pulled out a gun – a loaded gun – and it was also in that moment that both George's and Mark's heart rates jumped to about three hundred. Louise then carefully wheeled herself out from behind the counter so she could get a clear shot.

"NOW LISTEN TO ME!" Brock yelled at the top of his lungs. "IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME BACK MY WIFE NOW, PEOPLE ARE GOING TO START DYING IN HERE! DO I HAVE TO PROVE MY POINT?!" he cried out, and then he held up his gun and fired off two more shots at the ceiling.

And in those seconds, as Brock was shooting at the ceiling, Louise aimed her gun and shot Brock in the shoulder. Instantly, he dropped his gun, grabbed his shoulder, and cried out in pain. Louise then shot him in the side for insurance, just to make sure that he would be too badly injured to even try to get his hands back on his own gun.

Cops came swarming into the bakery then, and Mark and George came running out of the kitchen to check on Louise. Meanwhile, Louise put her gun back in the drawer and locked it back up, and then after assuring George, Mark, and all the cops that she was alright, she wheeled herself over to Brock, who was still lying on the floor, screaming and writhing in pain.

In the next moment, Louise bent down and reached inside the pocket of Brock's jeans, pulling out the emerald ring Mark had given her, telling him, "And I'll take my ring back, thank you very much!"

After Louise put the ring back on her right ring finger, Mark, who was standing right behind her alongside George, told her, "Louise…you are a lioness."

Louise smiled at Mark then and said, "I don't think I'll argue with that."

"You're not just a lioness, Louise. You're the most amazing woman alive," George told her with stunned admiration.

Louise then looked at George with a big, satisfied grin and told him, "I don't think I'll argue with that, either."

In the following moments, several cops began questioning Louise, George, and Mark about everything that had just happened. But before they had a chance to really get into all the details, Louise suddenly began holding her chest.

"Louise? Sweetheart, what is it?" Mark asked gently after putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Honey, what's the matter?" George asked her in the same soft, loving tone.

"Are you alright, Ms. Wood?" asked one of the cops.

"My heart," Louise gasped.

"It's her heart. She has heart problems," Mark explained.

"Call an ambulance!" another cop cried out, and immediately, an ambulance was dispatched to the Haven Lake Bakery.