CHAPTER 12

DESTINY

I awoke to sunlight pouring into my room. Brock was there patiently gazing at me.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Brock said, startling me to an upright sitting position. He sat on Nora’s bed, reading my Bible.

“Good morning, Brock,” I mumbled with my head swiveling as I got myself oriented in my new surroundings. “Where’s Nora?”

“She wanted to go for a run.”

“I smell coffee and food,” I said.

“Bent’s making breakfast,” Brock replied. “I got you some Morning Star bacon strips to go with your eggs and hash browns.”

I was mostly vegetarian, and Brock was referring to a meatless bacon substitute I liked.

“Thank you,” I said. “I guess I’m the lazy bum around here.”

“No, you’re not. You were just exhausted.”

“I guess I don’t need to check the obituaries to see if I’m in there,” I joked.

“It was an uneventful night.”

“Thankfully.”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean?”

“If something is gonna go down,” Brock said, “and I believe something is, I’d rather just get it over with.”

I nodded, then stretched and yawned. When I finished, I couldn’t tell if Brock’s countenance showed feelings of disgust or desire. Either way, I felt vulnerable.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, puzzled.

“Even ruffled from sleep, you’re incredibly beautiful,” he told me.

“Stop it,” I said, smiling shyly, embarrassed by my accidental alcohol-induced revelations the previous night and the brief kissing session that ensued. The scar by Brock’s mouth twitched with a smile before he frowned, sighed, and looked at his bare feet. A knock took his gaze to the door.

“Breakfast is ready,” Bentley said.

“Thank you, Bent,” I replied cheerfully.

“You bet, darling,” Bentley drawled. “Hey, Dee?”

“Yeah, Bent?”

“Do you know why the lifeguard couldn’t save the hippie?” he asked.

“No, why?”

“He was too far out.”

“Just like you,” I replied, laughing.

“I guess so, pretty lady,” Bentley said with a chuckle as he headed back down the hallway.

“I’m really starting to love that goofy man,” I told Brock.

“He has a way of growing on you, doesn’t he?” Brock asked with a sentimental smile.

“He does.”

“Never trust first impressions,” Brock said. “Bent may look like he could be a member of the Hell’s Angels, but he’s really more like a boy scout.”

A few minutes later, Brock and I arrived at the breakfast table. Bentley had a plate of turkey bacon, a smaller plate of meatless bacon strips, a skillet of scrambled eggs mixed with onions and green peppers, a platter of bagels and a pitcher of orange juice. There were plenty of condiments – butter, jellies, salsa, and even spices.

“It looks fantastic, Bent,” I said with enthusiasm.

“Thank ya, Dee,” he replied happily.

“Thank you for cooking the fake bacon strips Brock bought for me, too,” I told him.

“No problem,” he said. “I’d do anything for you, ma’am.”

I felt myself start to well up at how much this little band of people were putting themselves out to protect me. On top of that, Bentley spent the night in a tent and then made us a fabulous breakfast. I got up from my chair and went to Bent, who was sitting directly across from me at the table. I kissed his cheek.

“What was that for, Dee?” he asked, blushing.

“Because you’re so sweet,” I replied.

“Most people think I’m weird,” Bentley said, “except for Brock.”

“Oh, I definitely think you’re weird, Bent,” Brock said with a grin. “But I love you anyway.”

“Wow,” he said, frowning but smiling. “Thanks, I guess.”

Nora burst through the front door, and Brock stood abruptly with a gun materializing in his hand as he did so. Bent also arose a second after Brock with a gun in his hand. Both were wearing jean shorts and t-shirts, but their guns seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Relax, guys, I’m on your side,” Nora said as she put her hands in the air.

“Sorry,” Brock said as he deflated. “It’d be nice if you didn’t enter the house so forcefully, though, given our situation.”

“Right, my bad,” Nora said as she breathed in and out heavily. “At least I didn’t leap out unexpectedly with a hideous mask on.”

Nora was wearing small, extremely tight spandex shorts that were black in color, matching her sports bra. Bentley began to drool, but it wasn’t over the savory bacon he had prepared.

“That bacon smells incredible,” Nora declared as she grabbed a plate and helped herself to a generous portion of bacon, eggs, and hash browns.

“Good thing you work out like a fiend with the way you eat,” Brock told Nora.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Give me a break. Do you know how often I’ve only eaten once a day when I’m busy with a case? Sometimes nothing at all.”

“Nothing at all sounds like your evening wardrobe,” Brock spat.

“Forgive me for making myself feel at home,” she defended.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Bentley enthused. “Please make yourself feel at home.”

“Thank you, Bent,” Nora replied, then glanced at Brock with squinted eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Brock snorted and shook his head. Then he sniffed the coffee and the orange juice. Bentley frowned and asked him why he was doing that.

“After the Twisted Tea episode yesterday, I want to make sure you didn’t put bourbon in the coffee or vodka in the orange juice.”

Bentley shook his head as Nora wolfed down her food. I marveled, because if I had gone for a run, I probably wouldn’t have felt like eating for an hour. She seemed to devour her heaping plate in about five minutes. Then she dashed off to shower.

“Are you gonna be around today, Bent?” Brock asked.

“I’ll be working in the shop all day,” he replied. “I’ll keep the doors open and an eye out for anything unusual.”

“Sounds good.”

“So what’s up for us today?” I asked. “Are we just gonna hang out here and wait for the bad guys to show up?”

“Do you like baseball?” Brock asked.

“Sure,” I replied with a shrug.

“Do you like the Twins?”

“Not really.”

“You’re from the Minneapolis area and you don’t like the Twins?”

“My dad loved the Twins, so I kind of rooted against them just to be obstinate,” I explained.

It occurred to me right then just how much I actually resented my father. I rooted against a baseball team just because he liked them.

“I love the Cubs, though,” I told Brock. “My grandma lived north of Chicago and she’d take me to games when I’d go stay with her.”

“Ah, the friendly confines,” Brock said.

“You’ve been to Wrigley Field?”

“Well, the Cubs are my favorite National League team, but I am from Minnesota. The weird thing is, I’ve actually never been to Wrigley, but I’ve seen the Cubs play in Miami at least twenty times.”

“Oh, my. We’ll have to go sometime,” I said enthusiastically.

We were silent for a moment as Nora hung in the air between us.

I cleared my throat. “So, why’d you ask me if I liked baseball?”

“I thought you and I could go to a Kernels game since they have a mid-weekday game today.”

The Kernels are a minor league baseball team from Cedar Rapids. They’re a minor league affiliate of the Minnesota Twins.

“That sounds like fun,” I told Brock. “I went to a game with Belle and some people from our fellowship. They have a nice ballpark. What do they call it, Perfect Game Field?”

“Yeah, I think so, but this will be a little road trip. The Kernels play in the Quad Cities today. They’re supposed to have a nice stadium, too, right by the Mississippi River.”

“That’d be why they’re called the River Bandits,” I said with a smile.

Nora came bouncing into the room wearing khaki shorts and a dark grey polo shirt.

“I won’t be back until at least six,” she said. “What’s your plan for the day?”

“Dee and I are going to the Quad Cities to watch a baseball game,” Brock replied. “I want to take a little road trip to see if we’re tailed. Bent’s gonna keep an eye on this place.”

“Okay, bye, kids,” Nora responded as she dashed out of the front door.

We took Brock’s Shelby Mustang to the baseball game. I liked it even better than my Dodge Viper. To be honest, the day with Brock felt a lot like a date, and I didn’t find it the least bit unpleasant.

“Do you want something to eat and drink?” Brock asked me a couple of innings into the ballgame.

“No, thanks.

“How about a frozen confection?”

“A what?”

“A frozen confection?”

“What’s a frozen confection?”

“A snow cone or popsicle.”

“Why didn’t you just say snow cone or popsicle?”

“Because I’m sophisticated,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “I can’t help it if you’re not.”

I gave him a playful nudge. “I would love a frozen confection.”

“What variety?”

“A cherry snow cone, please.”

Brock returned five minutes later with a cherry snow cone for me and a blue raspberry for himself. About halfway through the game, we had a most memorable moment that was both awkward and fun.

“Oh no, Brock, we’re on the kiss cam,” I told him as my heart began to thud against my chest.

“Huh?”

“We’re on the kiss cam.”

Brock looked at us on the jumbotron. He looked so startled that I couldn’t help giggling. When he saw me giggling on the huge screen, his face relaxed and he chuckled, looking at me.

“What do we do?” I murmured.

“I guess we wave and then kiss.”

We gave a quick wave and then did a lip lock to the cheers of the people around us. I could barely taste his blue raspberry snow cone and I longed to taste more. How were we ever going to be just friends? Brock seemed to brood after the kiss, and I wondered if he felt guilty with his pending nuptials with Nora. We were in a somewhat no-win situation with the kiss cam, but I felt an abiding guilt for desiring another woman’s man. Maybe Brock was experiencing something similar.

“Do you want to go for a walk behind the outfield?” Brock asked me at the start of the seventh inning.

“Sure,” I replied.

We left our seats and started walking. Brock was quiet and seemed troubled.

“Is something wrong, Brock?”

“Kind of,” he mumbled. “I just seem to have lost my edge when it comes to bodyguarding. I thought hiding you in a crowd today was a good idea, and we ended up on a jumbotron.”

We were in between center field and right field. We both heard the pat, pat of running feet and saw an outfielder running directly toward us. We both looked at the sky for the ball.

“I don’t see it,” I shrieked as I flapped my arms like a lunatic.

Brock spun me away from facing the field and pulled me to himself. There was a sharp thwack of something hard hitting flesh. The home run had hit Brock on the left side of his upper back. He groaned loudly. People around us once again clapped as his heroics were captured on the jumbotron.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Man, that smarts,” he mumbled with a wince. “I’ll be fine.”

The announcer gave Brock accolades and showed another replay. Then the crowd in the stands cheered for Brock. He smiled humbly and waved.

“Whose idea was it to go to a ball game?” Brock asked with displeasure. “Twice on the jumbotron, no, three times if you count the replay. When it rains, it pours.”

We went for a walk on the trails by the river after the game. It would have seemed romantic if it wasn’t for the fact that he was marrying another woman very soon. Overall, I thought it was a wonderful, fun, and memorable afternoon. That night also would prove to be memorable on two accounts. However, it would be far from wonderful.

LATER THAT DAY

It was shortly before eight that evening when I pulled back the shower curtain after drying off. Nora was leaning against the wall with her arms folded and wearing the same purple robe from the previous night. She stared daggers into me as she pushed away from the wall and took a step toward me.

“I just had an interesting conversation with your boyfriend, Brock,” Nora said.

‘He’s not my boyfriend!’ my mind screamed, but my lips only parted a little and then, unfortunately, trembled.

“He told me about the kiss cam today,” she said, folding her arms again, “and your brief little make out session yesterday that I apparently, unknowingly broke up.”

Panic and confusion surged through me. My legs were so weak that I was surprised I was still standing. Why did Brock confess all of this? Yet he should have, and I admired him for it. But now I was suffering an extremely uncomfortable situation.

“Nora,” I stammered, “did he explain about the Twisted Tea?”

“Oh, he did,” Nora sang sarcastically. “It seems it was a magic elixir that brought out your true feelings for each other. Unintentionally, of course.”

My brain froze as my mouth opened and closed a couple of times. I didn’t know what to say because what she said was more true than false. Nora cocked her hip to her right and a leg jutted out to her left. She bobbed open palms up and down as if they were balances.

“So, who are you, Destiny Knight?” she asked with eyes ablaze with fury. “Are you the cute, innocent church girl that I saw sweetly reading her Bible last night? Or are you the raunchy porn star I’ve seen in pictures and videos?”

Nora proceeded to describe very graphic sexual things I did with other girls on film. I looked away from her as I desperately tried not to cry. I silently prayed for guidance, strength, and wisdom. She grabbed my chin and made me look at her. Although Brock should not have kept this stuff from her, why did he not do it in a way to be a buffer between Nora and me?

“So which is it, Dee?” she asked, spitting out my name.

“The first description,” I said, gaining my composure. “But I’m not perfect. As for the jumbotron, it all happened so fast that I didn’t even really comprehend what was happening. As far as what happened last night, if it wasn’t for the alcohol, I’m sure it never even would have happened in the first place.”

“You’re sure, but not positive?” she hissed as more of a statement than a question.

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“And why is that, because you prefer girls over boys?”

“No, because Brock’s engaged to you.”

“So, tell me,” Nora said. “If I wasn’t in the picture, would you stop Brock from kissing you?”

“Not on your life,” I replied honestly.

“After Brock and I marry,” Nora continued, “I’m going to be away more than I am here. Yet you and Brock will be seeing a lot of each other. How can I trust you two won’t ever be fooling around?”

“Because he and I both will be growing in Christ,” I said with assurance. “We will be getting stronger at resisting not only each other, but all forms of sin. Ture Christianity is a discipline, and I want to be a disciple more than anything.”

“So without the unexpected Twisted Tea, your little make out session with Brock would have never happened?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” I replied. “But to be honest, I suppose it was possible. Just not likely.”

Nora smirked as she folded her arms once again. However, her eyes seemed to soften. Then a mischievous and even seductive look came over her countenance.

“You owe me, girlfriend,” she said, almost as quiet as a whisper.

“What do you mean?” I stammered, not liking her demeanor as it reminded me of her little naked stunt the other night.

“You and me are gonna have us a little party,” she said right before she yanked away the towel that was covering me and threw it into the shower.

“Our own private bachelorette party,” she said as I did my best to cover my nakedness with my arms. Nora backed me into a corner.

 “Oh look, the former porn star is getting modest,” she said, emphasizing “former” sarcastically.

“Why are you doing this?” I wanted to know as I tried not to start sobbing.

“Brock had a little taste of sweet Destiny Knight,” Nora Medora declared. “I want mine.”

“Brock,” I cried out.

“Are you gonna tell on me?” she asked, sarcastically. “He went for a run, and good old Bentley Bonnano is on lookout. It’s just you and me, honey.”

Nora pressed her mouth hard against mine and groped at my breasts. I recalled what Brock had told me about Nora being repulsed by gay sex. He couldn’t be more wrong, I thought, as I struggled to get away from her. He didn’t even know the woman he was marrying. She grabbed my hand and twisted my wrist painfully.

“Cooperate, or I’ll break your wrist,” she said with gritted teeth.

She taunted me about not telling Brock when he returned from his run. You bet I was gonna tell him that his fiancée raped me. She roughly groped me, and I lost it and began bawling like a baby.

“Nora, why are you doing this?” I sobbed.

“I said cooperate,” she demanded, grabbing my throat and pushing my head against the wall.

“You’re a cop,” I blurted.

Nora’s eyes went from wild and possessed to stunned as they looked directly into mine. Then they rotated down to her hand on my neck. She pulled her hand away as though my neck was scalding hot and stepped back from me. My words were more powerful than a punch.

“Dee, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Nora sat down hard on the toilet and put a hand to her forehead as if checking for a fever. I quickly grabbed my robe and put it on before I knelt in front of her. My fingers shook as I tied the robe around my waist. I put a trembling hand on her knee.

“I forgive you, Nora,” I told her. “Do you forgive me?”

She looked confused and on the brink of tears herself as she nodded vigorously. I didn’t know Nora well so it wasn’t odd that I’d never seen her this vulnerable. What was odd to me was that she was capable of looking so vulnerable. She was so incredibly strong, bold, and aggressive that I didn’t think she had it in her to look so contrite.

“Do you want to talk?” I asked her with a soft voice.

She shook her head, so I left. She followed me into our shared bedroom.

“I’ll receive the wrath of Brock if I leave you alone,” she said in a barely audible voice.

I smiled at her as I sat on my bed, picking up my Bible with my hands still shaking. She sat on her bed and looked at me as if my existence puzzled her.

“Dee, what happened in the bathroom …” Nora said and then paused briefly, looking confused. “I guess I was just overcome with jealousy and anger. I’ve never experienced something like jealousy. I’ve always been very much a loner and I didn’t think myself capable of being jealous. I never should have gotten so attached to Brock. I have spent most of our relationship trying to keep emotional distance.”

“But he’s going to be your husband so you are going to be attached permanently.”

She looked at me as if my words were repulsive.

“Maybe I’m making a big mistake,” I thought she mumbled before she took in a deep breath, sighed, and continued speaking. “I’ve made it clear to Brock after he proposed that my primary interest in him was psychical. He believes my emotional attachment is minimal at best, that’s why he felt free to confess, and then leave me alone with you. My job always comes first, he knows that. The truth is, I lied.”

“About feeling more for him than you let on?”

She nodded, and then shrugged. “I’ve never loved anyone before, not even my own mother. She was pretty cold and distant. Yet, I’ve always wanted to make her proud.”

“Well, that might mean you love her.”

“Not really. It could only mean I want to prove something to her.”

“What was the bigger motivation for you to move here? Brock or your job?” I asked.

“That’s hard to say,” she replied. “I wouldn’t have been looking for a job in the Midwest if it wasn’t for Brock. Yet I wanted a change and would have been willing to take the job regardless of whether Brock and I got back together.”

“I see.”

“Did you have a bad home life growing up?” Nora asked me.

“When I was a teenager, I thought I had a horrible home life,” I told her. “My mom and dad had an ugly divorce. My dad joined another family and Mom became an alcoholic. Then, when I started working in the sex industry, the vast majority of girls truly did have horrible home lives. I heard so many tales of absolutely horrendous abuse that my upbringing seemed to be what has become typical, you know, with more than half of all marriages ending in divorce.”

I tried to ask Nora about her upbringing, but she blew me off. I sensed she even regretted telling me as much as she did.

“Is that why you got into porn, to rebel?” she asked instead.

“It played a role, to be sure,” I replied. “But to be honest, the main reasons were the money, vanity, and I was also kind of an exhibitionist when I was partying. It also seemed more adventurous than working nine to five to my young naive brain. There was also an element of revenge toward a boyfriend that cheated on me. There was also the element of being worshipped as some type of sex goddess. So it really wasn’t any one thing.”

“But now you’re a different person?” she asked with an obvious air of skepticism.

“Yes,” I replied confidently. “But it’s been a process.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex with someone?”

“Many months.”

“So has your religion made you asexual? I mean, other than kissing my fiancée.”

I was relieved that she smiled after she said the last part. Or maybe it was a smirk. My point is, she no longer seemed nearly as angry.

“By asexual, do you mean not interested in sex?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“After I became predominantly spiritually minded rather than carnally minded,” I replied, “my eyes were opened to the true nature of sexuality. I now see sex as part of something special between a committed couple, not something to be indulged in as a recreational activity. Having been involved as deeply as one can be, I can really see it for what it truly is. To me now, my life before was like a dog chasing its tale. You keep chasing the fun and excitement, but are never truly fulfilled. So down the road I would be interested in a romantic relationship, but as of right now, I have no interest.”

“Other than Brock, that is,” Nora said, looking at me intently, but with no malice.

I opened up and told her everything about my situation with Brock, beginning with him saving me from being raped and probably murdered, and ending with actually getting to know him at Cotton Creek Cove. Whether wise or foolish, I even admitted the years in between and all of the fantasies. Then I reassured her that after she and Brock married, I was confident that Brock and I would develop a relationship akin to brother and sister.

“Hey, ladies,” Brock said, practically flying into the room, surprising both Nora and me. I about jumped out of my skin, and Nora stood, pointing a gun at him.

“You’re as bad as Bonnano,” she said, sighing, and lowing the pistol.

“My bad,” Brock said. “Is everything good?”

“Yes, everything’s good,” Nora sighed, “if you wouldn’t just barge in on us.”

“Like I said, my bad,” Brock replied. “All right, lock down then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Nora and I said in unison as we all settled down to slumber.

My mind was spinning like a clothes dryer and I couldn’t get to sleep for the life of me. I finally fell into a fitful sleep when Nora woke me in the middle of the night. I looked at my clock, which read 2:48 am.

“It’s going down,” she whispered into my ear. “Your attackers are here.”

I got a surge of adrenaline so intense it felt like blood could burst through my fingertips.

“Go to Brock right now,” Nora insisted. “Tell him it’s going down, but to stay put. I’ve got this under control.”

My legs were so wobbly I could hardly walk. Once in his room, I made my way to Brock’s bed.

“Dee,” he whispered.

“Yes!” I gushed as I noticed his shadowy form by the window.

“Come here,” he said, barely whispering.

I went to him and he pulled me into himself.

“I just got a text from Bent that they’re here,” he said so close to my ear that his lips brushed it, making me squirm with ticklishness. “I was just about to tell Nora.”

“She knows,” I whispered into his ear. “She said to tell you to stay put because she has it under control.”

I could see him frown in the dim moonlight streaming into the window.

“What’s gonna happen?” I whispered right before it all broke loose.

Several quick pops like firecrackers came from Nora’s and my bedroom. Brock pressed me against the furthest wall from where the shots were being fired. Spotlights illuminated outside and a bull horn ordered whoever was there to freeze.

“Guys, it’s Nora,” she said before she turned Brock’s bedroom lights on. “Everything is under control, but two guys are down in our bedroom. Make sure you don’t go in there, Dee. It’s ugly. I’ve got to go down and speak with my colleagues.”

Nora turned and disappeared. I began to tremble uncontrollably. Brock still had an arm protectively around me, but he spun me and pulled me into an embrace. I welcomed it and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his neck.

“I got ya, Dee,” he said softly into my ear.

I pulled back to look at Brock, and he smiled. I returned the smile, surprised at how calm I actually felt after all the excitement. It all started and ended so fast!

“I also love you,” he said, then frowned.

The adrenaline, coupled with relief, probably forced it from his lips. But I never wanted to kiss anyone more in my life. Especially after I already had a taste of kissing him. Then I recalled the incident with Nora after my shower. So without replying, I put my face back into his neck to enjoy one last moment with the man of my dreams.

It was over, in more ways than one. Now maybe we would get to normalcy, whatever that might be. Or so I thought.