CHAPTER 7

DESTINY

I woke up suddenly from a nap on my sofa. I had been dreaming about Brock. Yesterday, why did I have to tell him I would have said yes if he asked me to marry him? For one thing, we really didn’t know each other all that well. For another, he had just told me he proposed to Nora Medora. How selfish of me!

What was my motive anyway? Jealousy? Loneliness? Longing? Poor Brock, I could tell my statement messed with his head. I felt guilty that this gave me a twinge of satisfaction. Maybe I should call him to apologize and set the record straight. But what exactly was the record to be straightened?

A knock at my door jolted me. Oh, so that’s what had abruptly awakened me when Brock was about to kiss me in my dream. It must have been the first knock that interrupted our faces slowly coming together. Was this good timing or bad timing?

 Shaking off a sleepy haze, I looked through the peep hole. It was my Aunt Belle and Mary Gold Weston. Fifty something Mary Gold was a pillar in our church. The two women looked gravely concerned. I had a sudden feeling of dread that they were here to tell me that they found me unworthy to be baptized and join their church.

“Honey, why weren’t you answering your phone today?” Belle asked me as a greeting.

I looked around for my phone and realized that I had left it in my vehicle.

“Sorry, it’s in my car,” I replied, dumbfounded. “Why, what’s up? Did you decide I shouldn’t be baptized?”

My aunt looked surprised. “No, not at all, Sweetie. But we do have an urgent matter to discuss with you. Can we come in?”

“Yes, of course,” I invited.

Belle and Mary Gold looked lovely in their summer dresses. Belle was wearing a light green dress and Mary Gold had a bright yellow one with lavender flowers. I had been cleaning before my nap and felt rather dumpy in a paint stained T-shirt with sweatpants cut off into shorts. The ladies sat side by side on my sofa, and I tucked a leg under me as I sat in my recliner.

“Honey, do you remember me telling you how I first met Mary Gold?” Belle asked.

I looked at Mary Gold, who looked so much like an older version of the dancing violinist Lindsey Stirling that I felt prone to call her Lindsey, instead of Mary.

“Sure I do,” I replied. “You met her at a park.”

“Do you remember how and why we met at a park?”

“Yeah, she had a dream about you.”

My toes curled as I was reminded of dreaming of Brock. A dream that was possibly turning erotic. Thank God they woke me!

“Right,” my aunt replied, glancing at Mary Gold and then back to me. “I know I told you about my miraculous experience with meeting Mary Gold, but I don’t think I fully explained Mary’s gift. She tends to have prophetic type dreams and always about specific people. The people she dreams about are always in some type of need, trouble, or danger. She doesn’t have them often, maybe once every year or two. But they are always profound when she does.”

“I take it you’ve dreamt about me?” I asked, looking at Mary Gold.

She smiled sweetly but sadly and nodded.

“Is it bad?” I asked Mary Gold.

“Well, it could be,” Mary Gold said as she reached toward me and took both of my hands in hers.

“Okay, so lay it on me,” I said before I took a deep breath and blew it out.

“I’m gonna need your help, Honey,” Mary Gold said, looking earnestly into my eyes.

I felt a lump form in my throat. Mary Gold was so loving and motherly that her face seemed to shine with the light of heaven. She was truly a Godly person if ever I met one. Whatever she told me, I needed to do.

“Okay,” I replied meekly. “What do you need?”

“This is the third time that I’ve had this particular type of dream,” she told me. “What I mean is that I’ve had three encounter dreams with a particular angel named Mayquinn instructing me to warn a particular person. In this case, it’s you.”

“I see,” I replied, becoming a little freaked out. It must have shown because Mary Gold felt the need to reassure me.

“Don’t worry, Honey,” she said patting my knee. “I’m sure you’ll be able to answer my questions. And as long as you follow the instructions, you’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” I croaked. “Is this, like, a real angel?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. But he seems very real in my dreams. But it is a dream after all, a vision in my head. It’s not like talking to someone consciously like us right now. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so,” I replied as she gave me a reassuring smile and then a pat on my knee.

“So, in my dream,” she began. “I was walking through a town. It was dark and gothic, but kind of intriguing for some reason. Then it transformed into a beautiful, dreamy type city. Then all of a sudden it became dark and stormy, but brief. I ended up in some type of dreary tunnel, but there was a light at the end of it. At the light I found Mayquinn. The best way I can describe Mayquinn is as a bright light with an otherworldly voice.

“Mayquinn told me that my walk represented you’re life, and that you had found light at the end of the tunnel. However, a dark force was seeking to wreak havoc in your life. This is where I need your help. The voice said that ‘Reed is out, and running wild as he looks for your blood.’ Do you know what that might mean?”

“Malcolm Reed was the man who tried to rape me and possibly kill me,” I choked out. “But he’s supposed to be in prison.”

“Then the voice said that there was a man that protected you and held you after your most fearful moment in life.”

“Yes, that would be Brock Storm,” I told them.

Belle and Mary Gold looked at each other as if they expected this answer.

 “We figured as much,” Mary Gold said. “Mayquinn proclaimed him to be one of the most dangerous of men when it comes to violence. But that ultimately and recently he became a believer in Jesus. You are to follow his instructions and seek his protection or you will not survive Reed’s vengeance.”

“I see,” I mumbled. “How soon do I need to contact him?”

“As soon as possible, Honey,” Belle said. “Right, Mary?”

“All I can tell you is that the darkness is closing in fast,” Mary Gold said. “So you need to seek Brock’s protection, or else.”

“Or else what?” I asked, swallowing down a lump in my throat. Ten minutes ago I was asleep. I was wide awake now!

“In no later than three days, your time expires. In two, sudden fear. Unless in the next twenty-four hours you seek Brock’s protection.

“But don’t fear, Honey,” my aunt said. “Perfect love casts out all fear, and perfect love has brought you this warning message.”

“You mean Mary?” I asked meekly.

“No, Honey, it is Jesus,” Mary Gold said. “I was just privileged to be his messenger and one of your pray partners. Shall we?”

The three of us prayed for several minutes. When we finished, Mary Gold called her husband Jake and got Brock’s number. I immediately called it but got his voicemail.

“He works out in his shop and that big garden of his quite a bit,” Mary Gold suggested. “I wonder if that’s why he’s not answering.”

“Do you know his address?” I asked. “I wouldn’t mind going for a drive and sorting this all out in my head.”

Mary Gold called her husband again to get Brock’s address. As she did so, I wondered if my own dream about Brock only minutes ago meant anything. My spiritual mentors and I prayed again, we all hugged, and then they left. I set my GPS and sought out Brock’s dwelling. Brock’s residence was out in the country about ten miles west of Cedar Rapids. When I pulled into the gravel driveway, a majestic brick farmhouse loomed about two football field lengths in the distance.

I approached slowly as nerves seemed to vibrate my skin. I was relieved to see Brock’s blue Shelby Mustang parked next to an old pickup truck. There was a machine shed and somebody was welding something on a pair of sawhorses just inside the wide open slide doors. I approached cautiously, certain that the welder was Brock.

“Hello,” I said loudly as soon as the welding stopped.

The person welding spun quickly and flung his shield off, revealing one sinister-looking dude. His stringy, dark hair flopped against his cheeks. His grey eyes were close set, and one bore into me while the other seemed to look to his left. I discovered later that he had amblyopia, also known as lazy eye. His cheeks were hollow while his nose was long and narrow. His teeth were crooked and his thin lips expanded into a strange, eerie smile.

“How do, ma’am?” the ruffian said as he moved toward me. “Why, I’ll be! You’re Destiny Knight! I’m a big fan, ma’am.”

“I see,” I stammered as I felt my body tense.

“I’ve seen all of your stuff,” he continued. “I can’t believe you’re here in person. It’s like a dream come true. Brock did say he knows you.”

I felt a twinge of relief when he said Brock’s name. Still, I began to backstep away from him. Then I bumped into something solid that grunted. I spun again, now frightened to the point of weak knees. Relief washed over me when I saw that it was Brock. I put a hand to my chest and sighed heavily.

“Hey, Dee, what are you doing here?” Brock asked with a welcoming tone.

“Oh,” I stammered, looking back at the hideous, leering man. “I tried calling you a while ago, but you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry, I was busy with a rather important matter with Nora,” Brock replied. “I saw you drive up and feared you might encounter Bent before I could get to you. Not that he would harm you, but he looks a little scary.”

“Huh?” Bent inquired, looking both puzzled and offended.

“Destiny Knight, this is Bentley Bonnano,” Brock said with an easy smile. “Bent’s an old friend of mine and my housemate here at this palatial estate.”

“Once again, how do, ma’am?” Bentley asked.

“Fine,” I stammered, taking Bent’s greasy hand in mine. “Nice to meet you.”

I had changed from my stained T-shirt and cut offs to a light green summer dress that revealed no cleavage. Yet Bentley still seemed to eye my chest hopefully.

“By the way, Mr. Bonnano,” I said. “Just to be clear, I don’t do por… Um, adult entertainment stuff anymore.”

“Oh, I know,” he replied quite cheerfully. “My girlfriend doesn’t strip anymore either.”

“Oh, good for her,” I replied. Then I frowned, surprised that this, forgive me, handsome challenged man had a girlfriend attractive enough to take her clothes off for an audience. I was going to have to ask Brock about this sometime later.

“Hey, Destiny?” Bentley asked with a big, goofy grin.

“Yes?” I braced myself for something crude about his girlfriend or my former life.

“Do you know what you call an alligator that’s wearing a vest?”

Was he telling me a joke? “I don’t know. What?”

“An investigator,” Bentley said as if he was confiding a secret.

Between the silly joke and this odd man delivering it, I had a good belly laugh. It was just what the doctor ordered, and I could feel tension leaving my body. My first impression of Bentley did a complete one-eighty. If I could have seen into the future, I would have realized that he was to be a man that I cherished forever. A man who would literally give his life for another.

“Bent’s always ready with a corny joke,” Brock said, shaking his head.

“You mean quality, not corny,” Bent replied.

Brock and I smiled awkwardly at each other for a long moment. A buzz startled me and I jerked. Sparks flew as Bent began to weld again.

“Hey, Dee, are you okay?” Brock asked, putting a hand on my upper arm. “You seem really stressed.”

Brock calling me Dee was a nice little balm for my chaotic mind. Only those I was closest to called me that, and I felt pleased that Brock now saw me less formally.

“Yeah, I am kind of stressed,” I admitted.

Just then, Nora Medora emerged from the big brick farmhouse and walked toward us. She was wearing tight khaki shorts, revealing a lot of long, fabulous leg. She was wearing a black, sleeveless top. Her short, silky hair was wet from a shower. Nora’s presence only added to my discomfort, especially when she regarded me several degrees colder than coolly. With her there, I really didn’t want to tell Brock about Mary Gold’s dream. Yet, I didn’t feel comfortable asking to speak with Brock privately.

“Hi,” I said to Nora, a little breathless.

“Hello,” she said, as if the word tasted bitter.

“Nora, this is Destiny Knight,” Brock said. “Destiny, Nora Medora.”

To my surprise, Nora Medora offered me her hand. As our hands joined, Bent bellowed loudly and shook vigorously at his long sleeved denim shirt. Apparently he was burned by an ember while welding. Brock smiled and shook his head. Nora shook hers, too, and frowned as if in disgust. I probably just looked confused.

“Nice to meet you,” I told Nora.

“Likewise,” she replied, at least attempting to be pleasant.

“Destiny has been attending the church I go to,” Brock said.

“Yes, I remember seeing her there,” Nora said. “So what brings you to my fiancé’s home, Destiny?”

Brock seemed to roll his eyes without actually rolling them. I guess I had no choice but to explain my situation to both. Maybe it was just as well with Nora being some type of police officer.

“Congratulations on your engagement,” I said, not only stalling, but attempting to make her feel like I was no romantic threat. Was I really?

“Thanks,” she replied with a tiny, forced smile.

What did Brock see in this cold, hard woman, other than her stunning physical appearance? Then again, Brock wasn’t exactly Mr. Rogers himself.

“So what’s going on, Destiny?” Brock inquired.

I noticed immediately that he went back to calling me by my given name.

“Well, you know Mary Gold Weston?” I began.

“Of course,” Brock replied. “Her husband and I have become pretty good friends.”

This information put me a little at ease as I prepared to reveal Mary Gold’s strange dream. I explained the entire encounter with Mary Gold and my aunt. Brock listened with utter fascination. Nora listened with a blank cop face.

“Let me get this straight,” Nora said irritably. “You saved Destiny from being raped and possibly murdered?”

Brock looked at Nora with a calm intensity but said nothing. So I answered her question. “Yes, he did.”

“In Minneapolis?” she asked, looking at me quizzically.

“Correct,” I replied, marveling that Brock had never told his future wife at least about saving my life, especially now that we went to the same church.

“So, you two people from Minnesota,” Nora said with skepticism, pointing back and forth between Brock and me. “One of whom saved the life of the other, just coincidentally ended up attending the same church in the middle of corn country all these years later.”

“That’s right,” Brock replied with icy calm.

“Really?” Nora asked, folding her arms.

“Really,” Brock said, mimicking her gesture.

“And I’m just finding out now about this now, under these dramatic circumstances?”

“It seems you are,” Brock said, as he and Nora proceeded to have a stare down for a good minute. I wished there was a rock to crawl under.

“Look, I’ve been in high level security most of my adult life, and I’ve had countless scrapes. So let’s just go have a seat on the porch and discuss what needs to be done here,” Brock demanded in a no-nonsense tone.

The big brick farmhouse had a huge porch with a roof that wrapped halfway around the west and south sides of the house. What a great place to watch a sunset.  But we were still a couple of hours away from that. There was a porch swing that seated two and two outdoor lounge chairs. I sat on the swing, and to my surprise, Nora sat next to me. The porch was wide enough that Brock pulled a chair around to face us.

“First off,” Brock began. “Malcom Reed must be out of prison. But how can that be possible? He was sentenced to more than twenty years.”

“You’d be surprised,” Nora said, rising and pulling out her phone. “Let me find out.”

Nora put the phone to her ear and moseyed away from us. My fingers picked at each other as I sat stiffly.

“Relax,” Brock told me. “Trust Mary Gold’s instruction. Trust me, too. I’ve made an obscene amount of money protecting people. I’ve never had anyone die under my watch.”

There’s a first time for everything, I thought, but said, “So what do I do?”

“The main thing is that you can’t stay at your place. I’d like you to move in here. It’s a plenty big house. You could have not only your own room, but your own bathroom.”

I cringed, thinking about being a housemate of Bentley Bon-whatever. I told Brock as much. I also suggested his fiancée wouldn’t be pleased with me staying under his roof.

“You’ll be fine,” Brock assured me as he gently touched my fidgeting hands. His touch was electric, and it felt wrong with his fiancée just feet away. “This place is huge. It will be like a hotel with only three guests. Trust me, Nora will understand.

“You never told Nora that you saved my life?” I asked him.

“I try not to toot my own horn,” he said with a shrug. “She does know we go way back, though.”

“But she’s gonna be your wife, so what do you guys talk about if you don’t tell her about saving lives?”

“Not much,” he replied sheepishly. “Our relationship has been mostly physical. We’ve been like buddies for the most part. What I did in Miami was borderline legal at times, so I rarely talked to her about work. We mostly have talked about her work and sports.”

“When are you two getting married?”

“Hopefully this weekend.”

“Really? Where?”

“At church by Captain Kirk. I still have to talk to him, though. It’ll be a simple wedding.”

“Are you comfortable marrying her?”

“Not really,” he replied matter-of-factly while shrugging again.

“Then why are you marrying her?”

“I owe it to her.”

“How?” I asked as my brain screamed ‘please don’t!’

“Well,” Brock said, just as Nora turned toward us and put her phone down.

“Reed got out of prison about a month ago,” Nora said. “But he’s on parole, like forever. He’s not allowed to leave the state of Minnesota.”

“But without prison bars, what’s to stop him?” Brock wanted to know.

“An ankle monitor and going back to prison for at least ten more years,” Nora Medora replied.

“But he’s free,” Brock insisted. “Given Mary Gold’s dream, what’s to stop him from seeking vengeance? You don’t know how twisted his mind could be.”

“That’s true,” Nora sighed. “Look, Miss Knight, you should probably stay here with Brock until we get this figured out. There’s plenty of room.”

“See,” Brock added happily as Nora scowled.

“Look, Brock, I need to get back to Des Moines,” Nora said before she kissed him on the mouth rather passionately as if to claim her territory.

Nora knelt in front of me on one knee and, to my surprise, took my hands in hers.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, Destiny,” Nora said, her hard eyes trying to look compassionate. “I have kind of an awkward question for you, though.”

“Okay,” I said meekly.

“Brock and I are getting married in a few days,” she said, actually seeming meek herself. “This Saturday, we hope. It’s gonna be more like eloping, quick and low-key. Anyway, would you be my best woman or maid of honor or whatever?”

I was taken off guard by her question. I glanced at Brock, and he was as surprised as I had ever seen him.

“Um, sure,” I stammered. “I’d be honored.”

Nora’s face lightened into what seemed like a genuine smile, and then she kissed me on my cheek. She let her lips linger a couple seconds, and I felt the quick dart of her tongue lick my skin. It was so light and fast, I thought I might have imagined it.

When she pulled away, she was grinning happily from ear to ear. But her dark eyes were like daggers boring into mine. Then she winked.

Why did this woman I just met ask me to stand up with her at her wedding? Especially when we didn’t seem to exactly hit it off? What kind of head game was she playing?