Love Rents A Room
Chapter 91: Face To Face

Chapter 91: Face To Face

Joanne led Mr. Darcy to the northeastern corner of her property, her thoughts consumed by JD’s unsettling expression from that morning. The usual soothing breeze did little to ease the unease in her stomach, and the rhythmic thud of hooves, a normally calming sound, felt distant, like it was muffled underwater.

She followed the power cables, searching for damage. It had been a while since she visited this side of the property; the grass was overgrown and wild, threatening to reclaim the land. Weeds curled around the wooden fence that separated her property from the federal reserve land beyond.

This was Tanya’s territory.

Joanne had always respected the mother bear’s space. Female black bears, especially with cubs, preferred to stay near human habitation to deter larger predators. Tanya had lived in the area for years, raising multiple litters, with this year’s two playful cubs looking particularly healthy in the sunlight.

Her dogs instinctively avoided the area, and Joanne seldom ventured there herself. But today, she needed to. And something about it made her skin prickle.

She reached for her phone to pull up the power line layout, only to find her pocket empty. A sharp pang of frustration hit her as she realized she had left it back at the house.

Damn it.

At least she had her gun. She patted her holster for reassurance, but her stomach twisted when she remembered—she hadn’t loaded it. A careless oversight. Stupid. She had been so out of it this morning, so distracted by everything—Jonathan, JD, the damned video—that she hadn’t even checked.

A low, guttural growl split the quiet.

Joanne froze.

Tanya.

The bear rarely growled at her. If anything, she had always been more curious than hostile when Joanne rode by. But this? This was a warning.

Something was wrong.

Joanne’s pulse quickened as she instinctively turned Mr. Darcy toward the sound. The horse shifted uneasily beneath her, his ears twitching forward. She scanned the tree line just beyond her fence. The shadows beneath the thick canopy of leaves seemed darker than usual, stretching unnaturally, as if something lurked just beyond her vision.

Then—movement.

A burst of frantic energy. A figure stumbled from the woods, crashing through the underbrush, panting, wild-eyed. His clothes were torn, smeared with dirt and sweat.

Joanne’s breath hitched.

Who the hell—?

He wasn’t one of her workers. He wasn’t a local. He didn’t belong here.

Then she saw it—the glint of a gun in his grip. Could he be a hiker who lost his way?

Before she could react, another deep, resonant growl rumbled through the air, this time closer.

Tanya.

And she was angry.

From the tree line, birds erupted into the sky in a panicked flurry. The man twisted toward the sound, his movements erratic, desperate.

Joanne felt her own body go rigid as her mind caught up to what she was seeing.

Tanya wasn’t warning Joanne.

She was warning about him. She didn’t know what she could do.

Meanwhile, Luca Caruso sprinted through the underbrush, heart hammering as the bear crashed through the foliage behind him. His breath burned in his lungs.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He had planned to get in, do the job, and get out. But the second he crossed into McDonald property, he had stumbled straight into the bear’s territory.

And now, the damned bear wouldn’t let him go.

He gritted his teeth, trying to recall the survival advice he had read once.

If it’s brown, lie down. If it’s black, fight back.

He barely had time to register the thought before another roar shook the air. The bear was close—too close. He fumbled for a rock, a branch, anything to throw, and hurled it blindly toward the charging mass of fur and muscle.

His gun felt like dead weight in his hand. He could shoot, but the sound would carry. And that would be an even bigger problem.

So he did the only thing he could.

He ran.

Luca Caruso sprinted through the dense underbrush, branches whipping against his arms, sweat dripping into his eyes. His breath came fast and shallow, but he didn’t dare slow down. The black bear was right behind him, relentless in its pursuit.

He spotted the fence ahead—a break in the treeline leading to open land. With one last burst of energy, he lunged, vaulting over it and landing hard on the other side. His hands scraped against the rough earth, but he didn’t stop.

Then—nothing.

No more crashing through the brush.

No more snarling breaths behind him.

He turned, panting. The bear had stopped. Its dark eyes fixed on him, but it made no move to follow.

Why?

Then he saw her.

Joanne.

She stood by the fence, her expression wary but composed, watching both him and the retreating bear with quiet caution.

The bear gave one last huff before turning and disappearing back into the woods.

Luca wiped the sweat from his brow, schooling his features into something softer—grateful, relieved.

"That was... scary," he said between breaths, forcing a sheepish chuckle. He straightened, taking a careful step forward. "Hi, I’m Johnny. Thank you for saving me."

Joanne remained at a cautious distance. Something in the back of her mind nagged at her—Caruso was still at large. But this man... he didn’t quite match the description of the one who had tried to kill her. Still, she didn’t let her guard down.

"I did nothing, really," she replied, giving him a hesitant smile.

"Still," he wiped his hands on his jeans, exhaling, "I owe you one."

She nodded, still studying him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just... lost my belongings while hiking. I could really use a phone to call for help."

She frowned slightly. He did seem genuine. "I didn’t bring mine with me, but you can come with me back to the house."

Luca smiled. But his eyes didn’t match the warmth on his lips. Inside, he was elated.

Lady Luck had done the work for him. Joanne Smith stood right in front of him. Alone. Defenseless.

Gotcha, Joanne.

I can have my way with you now.

-----

Meanwhile back in the house...

Jeffrey took the porch steps two at a time, his breath tight in his chest. He barely registered the imposing Rolls Royce parked in the driveway, but the sight of it sent a familiar surge of resentment clawing up his throat.

His grandfather.

For a fleeting moment, every buried wound, every scar from the past, ripped open again. The anger he thought he had numbed for years burned hot, fueled by the knowledge that Philip Winchester was here—for her.

For the woman who had ruined his life.

Jeffrey shoved the front door open, his heart pounding. His grandfather was right there, seated on the couch. His silver hair was combed back, his tailored suit unwrinkled despite the long journey.

His eyes were closed, his face composed as if he were merely resting.

The moment Jeffrey stepped inside, Philip’s eyes fluttered open.

Cool. Unreadable.

Yet, in the depths of that gaze, something flickered. Something only a Winchester could recognize. Calculation.

"Jeffrey..."

Philip’s voice was calm, almost pleased.

And that only made Jeffrey’s fists clench tighter.