CHAPTER 16

AMY AUTUMN

In the first few minutes talking with Destiny Knight-Storm, I knew that there was something special about her. It wasn’t just that she was physically beautiful to behold. Destiny had a twinkle, actually more like a light in her blue eyes, and love in her demeanor. Then after we talked for a couple hours, I was sure she was the real deal.

We bonded like sisters. But my first tiny pause was meeting her man. Destiny was like a real live Barbie doll. But Brock wasn’t quite like Ken. He was buff, big time buff, and handsome. But upon first impression, he seemed brutish and dangerous. I suppose he was, but once I got to know him a little, I knew it was on a righteous level. He was a protector, not even remotely a predator.

Brock, with his dark hair, three scars on the left side of his face, and pro wrestler build, was definitely the most imposing man I had ever met. But being on his side, he was a teddy bear. His light brown eyes were calm and kind. When he spoke, he was lighthearted and had a graceful strength that put me at ease. With the danger that loomed from my twisted sisters, I was grateful that he was in my corner.

But low and behold, I was foolish. Oh, I was smart enough to temporarily move in with Destiny and Brock. But I insisted on still working my waitress shifts. After all, wasn’t I safe out in public?

But going to work wasn’t what got me in trouble, at least the first time. It was venturing back to my sister Lexy’s place. When I hastily moved out, I had forgotten my grandmother’s wedding ring. It was hidden in my old bedroom. On the nights Lexy worked as an exotic dancer, she was almost never home before one am. It was the almost that got me in big trouble.

After moving in with B and D, Destiny insisted that I call her when I arrived at work, and again before I left for their place after work. Both she and Brock had tried to persuade me to let him escort me to and from the restaurant where I was employed. But I talked them out of it. The compromise we made was the phone calls.

Dee brooded over me like a mother hen. This was both annoying and immensely satisfying. You see, I didn’t have much mothering growing up. My biological mother was, forgive me, a dead beat drug addict. My father, a career military man, was killed in Iraq. So I was mostly raised by his parents. But my grandmother died when I still in lower grade school. So the key figure in my parenting was my grandpa.

So being fussed over by an older female was quite gratifying. Even if the age difference was only ten years. Yet, on the other hand, I was still a teenager who wanted her space. I was a teenager who had an air of invincibility. I was a teenager suffering from immaturity, even though I was often complimented when I growing up for advanced maturity.

Yet, if I hadn’t done this foolish thing, I probably never would have met the love of my life. Plus, it’s an interesting explanation when someone asks how Dirk and I met. ‘Oh, why we met when I was laying naked in the grass about to be gang raped by four drunk men. Isn’t that how every girl meets the guy of her dreams?’

This is how the nightmare got started.

“Hi, Amy. Are you on your way home?” Destiny’s soothing voice had said into my ear.

“Hi, Dee,” I replied and then winced. “Sort of.”

“What do you mean, sort of’?”

I told Destiny about my grandmother’s ring and my plan to retrieve it.

“Sweetie, that’s not a good idea,” Destiny insisted. “Brock’s here. Come home and let him go with you.”

“Dee, I’ll be fine, and I don’t have time,” I protested. “I know right where the ring is, so I’ll be in and out in under a minute.”

“I want an ETA right down to that minute,” Destiny demanded. “Plus, I’m gonna have Brock at least head that way and meet you. Pastor Samson will be with him.”

“Is Pastor Samson there, too?” I asked, referring to the former army chaplain affectionately known as Captain Kirk.

 “He is.”

“Great! He and his wife are such nice people. They were in for supper at the beginning of my shift today. Would you believe they gave me a thirty percent tip!”

“I would, they are very generous people.”

I chewed nervously on my lower lip as I drove my twelve-year-old Ford Focus up to my sister’s house. Finding it dark, I eased my car against the curb and parked. The extra house key I had kept worked. I quickly went to my former room, located the ring which was hidden high up in a closet, and prepared to flee.

When I exited my former room, I was startled to see the living room lights come on. There stood Sexy Lexy with her hands on her hips and her dark brown eyes angrily blazing at me. Her thick black hair framed her face, falling over her shoulders. She was accompanied by four rough, burly men who looked like construction workers.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Lexy asked, flipping her hair from her front shoulders to her back.

“I, um, forgot something,” I stammered.

“Did you now?” Lexy asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as a wicked smile across her face.

Lexy said something in a low tone to the four guys and they all gazed hungrily at me. Two of them smiled mischievously, one raised his eyebrows and nodded, and the forth looked me up and down with a cold, blank expression.

“Back in the room, honey,” Lexy ordered as she pointed at the bedroom door.

I fled toward the kitchen and the back door. My hands trembled so much that I couldn’t get the door open in time. A strong, vice-like grip attached itself to my arm. I was dragged back to my former bedroom by the coldest, hardest looking guy as the other three followed him. Sexy Lexy closed the door and wished her male companions a good time. Panic surged through me like it never had before in my life.

The small room immediately filled with the smells of alcohol, tobacco, and sweat. The men ordered me to undress, but I refused. I was still wearing my waitress uniform. It was a white button-up blouse, a brown knee-length skirt, and brown and white saddle shoes. The meanest looking guy yanked hard on my blouse and buttons clacked as they hit the floor. Another thug pulled on my skirt and the sound of fabric ripping seemed to echo in the tiny room. Another man was fumbling with my bra when I had a miraculous moment of calm and clarity. A plan came suddenly to my mind.

“I’ll get it,” I ordered with strange authority. “We might as well make this as pleasant as possible. By the way, do you guys have condoms?”

“You get pregnant honey, that’s your problem,” the meanest one said.

“Alright, but I was talking about STD’s.”

“Once again, that’s your problem,” the meanest one said. “I’m going first. The other fella’s give you an STD, like I said, that’s your problem.”

“I was talking about you all,” I shrugged. “I haven’t had a chance to go to the doctor, and I’m pretty sure I have something.”

The meanest guy stared daggers at me. “Lex said you’re a virgin.”

“Okay,” I shrugged. “If that’s what she wants you to think, whatever.”

“I think you’re lying, but even if you’re not, you’re worth it,” said the mean one. Then as he moved toward me, followed by the others, he demanded. “Now, let’s get your clothes off.”

“Stop,” I barked. Surprisingly, they did. “I’ll do it myself.”

I began to remove my bra, causing the drunk, aroused men to go still as they leered. I had a plan, and it was my only chance. It was a pleasant night in mid-September and all of the windows in the house were open. Suddenly, I dove at the lone window in the bedroom. The screen burst from the window frame ahead of me as I sailed through. Now, the race was on!

LET’S HEAR FROM A HERO

DIRK EASTON

I was waking from the worst nightmare I had ever had. I dreamt that I was jogging late at night when I happened upon a young lady about to be gang raped between a couple of vacant houses. Three guys held down the squirming female form, while a fourth pulled down his pants and positioned himself in front of her. The next thing I knew, my legs were churning and I was slamming my forearm into the exposed fellow’s face. There was a sharp crack as facial bones broke.

The other guys were on me immediately, punching and kicking, and then I saw the glint of a knife blade right before it descended upon me. Before it penetrated my chest, I was saved by a guy that appeared like the Joker from Batman. Only this Joker’s hair wasn’t green. It glowed a light blue and pale yellow as I glimpsed him in the moonlight. There was a sinister, unnatural grin curling up from the left side of his mouth. That’s why he reminded me of the Joker. He took out the other three guys like a large Jackie Chan. Then a slender Santa Claus face loomed over mine, asking if I was all right. What a bizarre dream.

Santa was the last thing I remembered before I woke up to the sound of low voices. I was so relieved to wake up and get back to reality. This nightmare was so real that my head and ribs actually hurt. Bad. I was disoriented as I tried to peel my eyes open. It didn’t seem like my own bedroom. It was more like a doctor’s office or hospital room.

“He’s awake,” a female voice whispered.

Slender Santa from the dream hovered over me again, smiling. I jolted and then winced with pain. My head throbbed. Santa’s face was joined by the Joker’s, who turned out to be a very handsome dark haired man, despite a sinister-looking scar that twisted up from the left side of his mouth, giving the appearance of a ghoulish smile as he frowned down at me. He also had a two-inch scar from his cheek to his ear and another jagged scar by his temple. Then he grinned, and he didn’t look quite so menacing anymore.

“How are you feeling, son?” Slender Santa asked.

“My head hurts something fierce,” I replied, wincing some more.

A drop-dead gorgeous woman with golden, honey colored hair joined the two men at my bedside. First I saw the Joker and now Harley Quinn. How weird, I felt awake, but apparently I was dreaming about the movie The Suicide Squad!

“We should call the nurse,” the blonde beauty said.

“Right, Dee,” Scar Face said as he pushed a button, causing a voice to come through an intercom speaker.

“The patient’s awake,” Scar Face said. “He says he’s in pain.”

“I’ll get a doctor and be right in,” the intercom voice declared.

“Are you Harley Quinn?” I mumbled, looking at the stunning female. “But you don’t look very evil.”

“What?” she asked with arched eyebrows as she leaned toward me.

“You know, you do bare a remarkable resemblance to Margot Robbie,” Scar Face said to the lady he had called Dee.

“I’ve been told that before, you know that,” she said. “But who’s Harley Quinn?”

“Harley Quinn is a character that Margot Robbie plays in a movie,” Scar Face said. “I’ll explain later.”

“This is the most real, vivid dream I’ve ever had,” I slurred as my vision blurred.

Harley Quinn grinned down at me, and my blurry vision made her mouth seem large. Her teeth looked cartoonish, like big piano keys, and I started to laugh. But then a splitting pain in my head removed the humor instantaneously.

“It’s no dream, son,” Slender Santa said. “You’re a hero. A big hero!”

I looked at Scar Face, who nodded in agreement. Maybe this wasn’t a dream, or rather a nightmare? I really did charge and slam into a rapist? I really did get the excrement kicked out of me before this Joker man handled the other three?

“But,” I protested, feebly pointing at Scar Face, “didn’t you beat up the other three?”

“The thing is,” Scar Face said glancing at Santa and then back to me, “I was a block away when I noticed you jogging in my direction. Then I saw you stop and appear to crane your neck. Then I witnessed you charging between two abandoned houses. When I saw you doing that, I ran toward you and found you being pummeled. If I hadn’t seen you taking action, and if you hadn’t intervened, the girl I was looking for would have been brutally raped – maybe even killed. You stopped it just in the nick of time. Do you understand that?”

“So how is she, then?” I asked as I recalled her long reddish blonde hair splayed across the grass. Then I remembered a split second of her frightened eyes and mine locking before I was tackled.

“I’m fine,” a sweet female voice said just above a whisper as a fourth person appeared at my bedside.

She wasn’t quite the stunning knockout like Harley Quinn’s twin, but she was possibly even more beautiful, in a subtle way. Her big, exotic eyes were almond shaped. One eye was blue and the other was green. The green eye had black and blue surrounding it. Her long, red-gold hair was in a ponytail that draped over her left shoulder. She had a light sprinkling of freckles on her nose, was a bit taller than average, and was well-proportioned. Her upper lip was plump and discolored from being hit. She had a rather tough presence for somebody who also seemed so cute and young. The girl introduced herself as Amy Autumn.

A nurse entered my room with a doctor on her heels. With a flutter of his white coat, the middle-aged doctor seemed to be imitating Kramer from the TV show Seinfeld. He hurriedly poked and prodded me, and shined a light in my eyes. Then he made me say “ah” as he stuck a tongue depressor into my mouth.

“Coming along fine,” he declared. “How do you feel?”

“Like Anthony Rizzo tried to hit a home run with my head,” I replied.

“Ah, a Cubs fan,” the doctor said. “You know, you do look a bit like Kris Bryant.”

“I can live with that. Then how about I feel like Kris Bryant tried to hit a home run with my head.”

“They’re doing pretty good,” said the doctor.

“This could be the year,” I said about a half dozen weeks before the Cubs won the World Series.

“Ah, yes,” he said patting my leg. “We’ve heard that before now, haven’t we? Seriously though, you took some pretty hard blows to the head. That’s why we kept you overnight. I think we should keep you at least one more night and go from there.”

The Kramer lookalike murmured something to the nurse before he left the room. Then she put something in my I.V. from a syringe and moments later my pain rapidly decreased.

“Dr. Dusseldorf’s a Cardinals fan,” the nurse explained.

“I see,” I mumbled.

The nurse left and I began to feel blissful, yet tired. Slender Santa was telling me something about the police wanting to talk to me and asking me questions about how I happened upon the scene. I recall opening my mouth and trying to answer, but my eyelids were so heavy I couldn’t keep them open anymore.

Three days later, I sat in blessed solitude in my humble, one-bedroom apartment in downtown Cedar Rapids. I was somewhat of a loner and quite content with that. So all of the medical attention, police questions, and news reporters had worn me out. I had just breathed a sigh of relief that I’d gone a few hours without human contact when there was a knock at my door.

Was it the police or reporters? I tiptoed to the door. If it was the police, I would probably need to talk to them yet again. If it was reporters, I intended to blow them off. But it was Amy Autmn! I had only seen her that one day in the hospital. I peeked one more time out of the peep hole right as she knocked again. Her eyes seemed to stare into my lone eye, so I was sure she noticed the peep hole darken. I reluctantly opened the door.

I meant to say “hi” or “hello,” but I just kind of grunted and ran a hand through my hair. Pretty girls always had a way of tying up my tongue, and Amy Autumn was even prettier than I remembered from the other day. Her banged up faced had healed some.

“Hi, Dirk,” she said quickly. I noticed she was clutching a brown paper sack tightly. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

Out of embarrassment due to my shy ways, I almost lied and told her that she did wake me. But I tried to live an obedient life to God, despite currently floundering with my faith. This struggle was mostly due to the suicide of the only girl I had ever loved three years previous, a circumstance that rattled my belief and trust in God to the core of my being.

Amy wore a light blue shirt with a yellow smiley face on it. She also had on a denim skirt, and pink Chuck Taylor sneakers on her feet. She somehow pulled off sexy while still appearing nerdy and wholesome.

“No, no,” I replied. “I’m still a little out of it from the whack to my head. Come in, come in.” I sometimes repeated myself when nervous. I think it was a subconscious effort to make it appear that I say more than I do.

Amy stepped inside and glanced around. There wasn’t much to see. I had an old brown sofa and one lime green chair. I had a card table for a kitchen table with two folding chairs pushed up to it. I still hadn’t hung any pictures, even though I had lived there for six months. Amy looked like she was trying to find something to say about the apartment, but there wasn’t much to say. Undecorated or adorned in any way, it wasn’t cozy, and the old off-white paint made the walls look dirty.

“I like the old woodwork,” she finally said with a satisfied smile. The old trim around the doors and windows was the only decent thing about my shabby apartment.

“Thanks,” I replied and then groped for something else to say. ‘Why are you here?’ seemed rude, but that was the predominant thought on my flustered brain.

“I just wanted to stop by and thank you again,” Amy told me. “You seemed pretty out of it in the hospital. I didn’t know if you would remember talking to me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t forget you,” I said emphatically and then stiffened.

The blows to my head must have done something to me. I typically would have simply nodded or maybe replied with one word. She shrugged as she giggled, crinkling her small, freckled nose.

“Oh, I brought you some double-chocolate muffins,” Amy said as she offered me the sack she held. “Do you like chocolate?”

“I love chocolate,” I told her as I opened the bag and sniffed the fresh-baked aroma. “Did you make these?”

“No, I got them from work,” she said. “I’m a waitress at Mrs. G’s Family Restaurant.”

“Have a seat, have a seat,” I told her as I waved a hand at the sofa.

She sat and some springs groaned slightly within the bowels of the couch. I pulled a muffin out of the sack and handed it to her. She thanked me.

“No,” I replied, “thank you. Do you want a glass of milk?”

“Maybe a small one,” she answered.

After I returned from the kitchen with the milk, I sat across from Amy in my ugly lime green chair.

“How are you feeling?” Amy asked.

“Much better than three days ago,” I said, trying to smile.

“But you’re still in considerable pain?”

I shrugged. “It gets a little better every day. The doctor gave me some pretty good pain pills.”

Amy bit her lower lip, and her exotic eyes welled with tears. I stopped my muffin halfway to my mouth as I took in the sight. A tear spilled onto her cheek, and she held her muffin on one knee as she dug a tissue out of her pocket. I needed a coffee table.

“What’s wrong, Amy?” I asked as I rose and sat next to her on the couch.  “I’m doing fine, I’m doing fine. Don’t worry about me!”

Amy began to quiver, and then a sob burst forth from her mouth like air vomit. I instinctively put an arm around her shoulders, then immediately thought better of it and was going to pull away when she laid her head on my shoulder. I froze but began to relax when the fragrance of her hair, still-damp from a shower, hit me. It made me think of a flowery meadow after rain.

I vowed that after Angie’s death, I would never give my heart to someone again. I felt it would be better to live life lonely than to experience heartbreak like that again. But sitting next to Amy with my arm around her and her silky hair tickling my nose, I recalled how nice it was to be close to someone of the opposite sex.

I would simply enjoy this little moment in time. Odds were I would never save a damsel in distress again, at least not in such a dramatic situation. I mean how often does that happen? Once she left my humble abode, we likely would never see each other again. So I sniffed deeply at her hair one more time. I closed my eyes and pictured us walking hand in hand in a flowery meadow. It was early Autmn, just like her name, as the sun shined happily down upon us.

CHAPTER 15

DESTINY

I was both horrified and relieved when Brock told me about his murderous past. It did disturb me that he could not only execute other human beings despite how wicked they might have been, but also that he seemingly enjoyed it on some level. However, I was relieved that the killings were situations where justice for various victims had not been served.

The thing is, I knew in my heart, mind, and soul that as far as men go, Brock was a great one. Yes, he may have killed other men in cold blood, but it was before he became a believer. However, he stopped killing after seeking and eventually surrendering his life to Christ.

After Brock confessed his darkest sins to me, my mind was so absorbed with his spiritual struggle and his tormented guilt that the next direction he went took me off guard.

“It’s not only about forgiveness,” he had said.

I was ready to reply in agreement and acknowledge that repentance follows forgiveness. Then he said if I was able to look past his past that he would like us to have a future together as a couple. My heart pounded with excitement at the prospect. I blubbered something about “I do.” Then Brock made a joke about being glad that I had said that instead of Nora. Then he kissed me.

It was quick peck, and I wanted a little more. So I looped my arm around his neck and pulled him back. For a minute or two, we became lost in our lip lock. Then a voice startled us back to reality.

“Hello, the camp,” Captain Kirk’s voice boomed, as the pastor warned us of his approach.

Brock sprang up from our seat on the bench like a naughty schoolboy.

“Brock, sit back down,” I said as I pulled on his hand. But he remained standing, as if at attention in the military. Well, our pastor was a former army officer.

“Sorry to intrude,” Captain Kirk said as he walked up to us. “I was talking with your aunt this morning, Dee. Now that your ordeal is over, what do you two say we have a couple of baptisms this afternoon? It’s going to be a hot, humid day, and a perfect time to make use of God’s natural baptistery.”

Captain Kirk waved his hand upstream to a deeper, calmer part of Cottonwood Creek. Brock looked like a deer in headlights.

“We’d love to, pastor,” I declared.

“What do you say, Brock?” Captain Kirk asked, addressing my man. Yes, my man indeed!

Brock looked at me with frightened eyes. I stared back with an earnest intensity and then smiled reassuringly at him. Brock’s face relaxed and his eyes filled with love.

“If you think I’m ready,” Brock said, turning to look at Captain Kirk.

“From my position, I think you’re more than ready,” he replied. “But only you truly know your heart and mind.”

Brock looked back at me, and I continued to smile as I nodded.

“I’d be honored if you baptized me, pastor,” Brock said, smiling happily. “It’s time I publicly acknowledge the new life I have in Christ.”

“Good, good,” Captain Kirk replied, clapping his hands twice. “I’ll let you kids get back to your conversation. Fellowship does start in fifteen minutes, though.”

After Captain Kirk turned to leave, Brock and I glanced at each other and burst into laughter. Then Brock turned stone cold serious.

“Dee, do you really think I’m ready?”

“You’re sure that you’re never going to do what you did to those sex offender guys again, right?”

“Positive.”

“God forgives you, sweetie. Don’t you believe that?”

“I do, Dee. That’s not the problem though.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Couldn’t be,” I couldn’t help replying, even though I was beginning to feel hurt.

“Then who?” Brock responded with a sad smile.

I was really starting to feel hurt now, and I didn’t know why. I stopped playing games. I needed answers.

“Why am I the problem, Brock?”

“I’m gonna tell Captain Kirk that I’m actually not ready.”

I cupped Brock’s face with both of my hands and made him look at me.

“Why am I the problem?” I demanded with a quiver in my voice.

“I can’t do what we were doing when Captain Kirk walked up and remain celibate,” Brock said.

I almost told him we should stop doing that then, but I didn’t want to. We had opened some kind of door, walked through it, closed it, and then barricaded it. We couldn’t get out now, and neither of us wanted to either. We deluded ourselves by thinking that we would simply be friends after he married Nora. Not that we would have given into temptation, but it would have been psychological torture with our desire for each other being so strong.

He covered one of my hands with his. “Do you know what 1 Corinthians 7:9 says?”

“Enlighten me.”

“It says if you can’t contain, you should marry.”

“Then let’s get married after we’re baptized,” I suggested.

“Yeah, funny, Dee,” Brock replied.

“I’m totally serious,” I told him, causing him to look at me with a completely baffled expression.

“We don’t have a marriage license,” Brock mumbled discombobulated.

“So you would marry me?” I asked as a big grin grew onto my face.

“Of course,” Brock said, smiling sweetly. “You know that.”

“Then lets get a license when the courthouse opens Monday.”

“You’re serious?”

“I am,” I grinned. “You can wait a couple days to consummate, right?”

Brock wore a horrified expression before nodding. I couldn’t help giggling, but then turned serious when I realized I had to make him aware of something first. “There’s one more thing you should know. Due to a complication with the abortion I had as a teenager, I can’t have children.”

“That’s okay. I’ve never longed to be a father.”

“Well, I do long to be a mother,” I said as tears unexpectedly welled in my eyes.

Brock smiled lovingly as he put an arm around me.

“Dee, there’s plenty of orphans in the world,” he assured me. “When the time is right, we’ll adopt.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course I do.”

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you, too,” he replied.

It was crazy, because I had really only known Brock for a short time. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was going to marry another woman just days ago. But I’ve always been an impulsive risk-taker. The difference with me now is that sin would not be involved. My future risk-taking would be in the service of my savior.

            Brock suddenly knelt down on one knee in front of me and gazed at me with longing as he took my hands in his hands. I frowned, giggled, and even though I suspected his motive, I asked. “What are you doing?”

“Dee, I know we really have known each other only for a short time,” Brock said, “yet it seems like we’ve known each other forever. When I’m with you, I experience something I’ve never experienced with another human being. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m home.”

Tears of joy leaked from my eyes as I grinned from ear to ear.

“Miss Knight, will you marry me?” he asked earnestly.

I knelt down in front of Brock and kissed him.

“Yes, Mr. Storm, I would be honored to be your wife.”

Brock plucked a thick blade of grass and began twisting it. Then he took my left hand and very carefully tied it around my left ring finger. “Tomorrow we’ll go shop for wedding rings.”

“Okay,” I answered meekly, yet batted my eyes a little.

“I have a plan if you agree to it,” Brock proclaimed.

“Okay,” I said again.

“We’ll go ask Captain Kirk if he’ll marry us right after we go to the courthouse.”

This time I responded, “Yes, lets.”

I was nervous that Captain Kirk would say no, especially after Brock attempted to marry someone else here one week ago. But after church we shared our plan with Captain Kirk. Instead of answering verbally, he grinned, sat at the piano, and played the wedding march.

“Is that a yes?” Brock asked with a chuckle.

“It is, my son,” Captain Kirk replied happily. “This time you’re yoking with the right one.”

I put a hand to my mouth as I welled up with tears. Then I threw my arms around Captain Kirk and hugged him tightly. He laughed with a deep, grandfatherly rumble as his long white beard tickled my cheek.

“Okay, kids,” Captain Kirk said. “We’ll go down and baptize you both now. What a great Sabbath day!”

The water felt great on that hot humid day, but the Spirit of God, bringing joy and love to our hearts, felt even better!

Two afternoons later, Brock and I both said “I do” at the appropriate time. My Aunt Annabelle and Bentley Bonanno were our two witnesses in the Pastor’s office. We decided to have a more public wedding on our first anniversary.

It was the best night of my life when Brock and I entered our marriage bed together for the first time. It was about five hours after my name was legally changed to Destiny Knight-Storm. Getting to that point in some ways seemed like a violent weather night storm.  

Then the dawn arrived beautifully. But in the world we will have tribulations, so more storms were in our future. Thankfully, Jesus overcame the world, so we would take refuge in him as we experienced life’s battles. And a major one was on the horizon.

A couple days after our nuptials, Nora Medora gave us the information on Jezebel Black’s sister. Her name was Amy Autumn, and she was a waitress at a family restaurant. She was eighteen and had been raised mostly by her fraternal grandfather. He had died around a year previous, necessitating Amy to move in with her half-sister Alexandra Gomez, aka Sexy Lexy.

Nora gave us the go ahead to tell Amy what we knew. If Amy rejected what we had to tell her, it would likely blow Nora’s cover with Jezebel Black. However, we had no choice. Nora left it up to Brock and me as to how we should approach the young lady.

Due to a little sleuthing and surveillance, we discovered that she always seemed to finish her shift at 11:00 p.m. I went into the restaurant at approximately 10:45 p.m. and ordered a piece of cherry pie. Brock waited in his car so as not to chance frightening her.

Amy waited on me, and I found her to be sweet, lovely, and bright. She wore little if any make up and no jewelry, although her ears did appear to be pierced. Her medium-length red gold hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and her one blue eye and one green eye made her an exotic beauty. She was a little on the tall side of average with a graceful, athletic body. After giving her a good once over, it was easy to see why her sister, Sexy Lexy, wanted Amy to become an adult entertainer.

“Are you Amy Autumn?” I asked when nobody else was in earshot.

“Yes,” she said cautiously.

“I have something to tell you,” I said, wincing. “It’s gonna sound crazy, but I didn’t know the best way to approach you.”

“Okay,” she said with a tone that agreed with crazy.

“My husband and I are working with an FBI agent who has reason to believe that you might be in danger.”

“In danger from who?” Amy asked, more curious than skeptical. It didn’t seem to surprise her.

“Your sister, Jezebel Black,” I told her.

Her eyes became wide and her mouth gaped open as she sat on a stool next to me.

“I don’t really know Jezebel that well,” she almost whispered. “She’s, like, eleven years older than me, and I didn’t grow up with her. But I know she’s some type of cult leader. She has been wanting me to check it out or something.”

“Have you?” I asked.

“No way,” she said emphatically.

“The sister you live with, Lexy – is it true that she wants you to become a stripper?”

Amy’s eyes looked alarmed as she gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she mumbled that she needed to go. She stood up ready leave, but stopped and spun on her heels. “How did you know about that?”

“Like I said, my husband and I are working with an FBI agent who found out quite a bit of information by way of Jezebel Black’s cult.”

“Why should I trust you?” Amy asked as she folded her arms. “We just met minutes ago.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” I told her. “Maybe we could go somewhere and talk so we can get to know each other.”

“At an hour before midnight, I don’t think so.”

“Fair enough,” I acknowledged. “How about we meet tomorrow at a park or something?”

She agreed, and we met at Green Square Park in Cedar Rapids. It was the same park my Aunt Belle went for a walk in nearly thirty years ago after nearly committing suicide. Not coincidentally but providentially, she crossed paths with Mary Gold and Jake Weston on that stroll. It would become a life changing encounter for my Dear Auntie.

Amy and I clicked like long-lost sisters, spending most of the day together. We bonded so well that I invited her over for dinner, and to meet Brock. The next day she went to church with us. She was curious why we went to church on Saturday instead of Sunday. I shared with her the ten commandment law of God, specifically the fourth commandment that recognized God’s Creatorship.

“But we keep Sunday in honor of the resurrection,” she protested.

I could tell she had church experience. When I inquired, she acknowledged that she had belonged to her grandfather’s evangelical church. After he passed away and she moved to Cedar Rapids, she occasionally attended a similar congregation.

“Do you know where that is instructed in the Bible?” I asked.

She frowned. “Well… no.”

“That’s because it’s not there. If we keep it in honor of the resurrection, why did the apostles still keep it in the book of acts?” I asked very gently. “Christ had already rose from the dead and ascended to heaven.”

“They did?”

“Yes. That is just one example,” I said, flipping through my Bible until I found Acts 17:2.

She read it, frowned some more, pondered a bit, and changed directions a little. “But we’re saved by grace so we don’t really need to keep the ten commandments anymore.”

“Absolutely we’re saved by grace. But like the Apostle Paul asks in Romans 3:31, do we then make void the law through faith? Certainly not! On the contrary, we establish the law.”

“Isn’t that legalism?”

“It is if you keep the law to be saved.”

“Isn’t that what you’re suggesting?”

“No, the key is LOVE. We obey the law God because we love Him. Jesus said in John 14:15, that if we love Him, we are to keep His commandments.”

“But Jesus also said somewhere that to love God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself hang all the law and prophets. Or something like that.”

“I know what you’re talking about, and you’re right. But Jesus wasn’t omitting any of the ten laws that God wrote with His own finger. Keep in mind God doesn’t change. Jesus was simply summarizing. The first four have to do with our duty to God. The last six have to do with our fellow human beings.”

“It still rings of legalism to me.”

“Sweetie,” I said with a pleasant smile. “Is it okay to steal, lie, and kill?”

“Of course not!”

“Is it okay to make idols, and worship them? Or worship celebrities like most modern people do instead?”

“Dee,” she giggled, calling me by my nickname for the first time. I loved it! “Once again, of course not.”

“So what’s the problem with the law of God then, the Sabbath?”

“Well, what difference does a day make?”

“So you’re telling me I can forget the day God said to remember?” I asked lightheartedly, my eyebrows raising innocently. I was careful not to be argumentative. Very seldom to people see truth if you try to argue.

She both frowned and grinned. “You know, you make some good points. I’m gonna look at a concordance and study out the Sabbath issue.”

“Good for you,” I encouraged. “Just like the noble Bereans.”

“The Bereans? What do you mean?”

“They searched the scriptures daily, for themselves, to see if the things they were taught were true. That’s also in Acts chapter 17, but verse 11.”

Right about then, the service began. Afterward, we convinced Amy to move in with Brock and me until her personal storm blew over. I was relieved when she accepted. After getting to know her, I found it hard to believe that she was actually flesh and blood with Jezebel Black. It was sort of like a modern-day Cain and Able situation.

 I became somewhat of a mother hen over Amy. I felt like she was being too carefree and reckless with the dual threats looming over her. One sister wanted her for a satanic sacrifice, while the other sister was fit to be tied that she refused to become a stripper and had moved out.

Amy acted annoyed with my brooding over her, but I knew my love and care touched her deeply. Then my fears for her were fully realized in a big way. Due to her carelessness, she was set up by her own sister.

Lexy Gomez sicked several drunk hooligans on her. She escaped their first attempt at rape. But then they gave chase and caught her in a desolate part of the city. This experience resulted in the most intense prayers of my life.

CHAPTER 14

DESTINY

It was almost a week after Nora Medora left Brock at the altar when he called and asked if he could take me to dinner. I didn’t hesitate to say yes, even though I didn’t know whether it was actually a date or if it was a way to discuss what he had told me at his failed marriage ceremony. It turned out to be both. Well, sort of.

Brock knew I was mostly vegetarian, so he took me to a Thai restaurant that had several vegetarian options. I ordered a delicious curry tofu dish. Brock got an amazing, stir-fried vegetable entree and we split the two dishes between us. He also ordered a dozen tasty vegetable spring rolls. He insisted I take home what we didn’t devour, and it was exactly half.

Brock made a face as he tried tofu for the first time. It made me laugh. “You don’t like it?”

“The texture’s a little weird.”

“It’s just bean curd. I’ve seen you eat cheese curd.”

“You are comparing apples with oranges.”

“No, I’m not. I’m comparing beans and cheese.”

We both laughed. After another couple bites, he said it wasn’t bad. But I doubted tofu would be on his next grocery list.

“Nora gave me the go ahead to fill you in on everything,” Brock said as he regarded me with his gentle but intense eyes. Such a strange, intriguing combination were his windows to the soul.

 “Okay,” I said, dumbly.

“Can you promise me to keep it between us?” Brock asked.

“Yes,” I said emphatically.

“What happens here, stays here,” Brock said, gesturing back and forth from me to him with a pointed index finger.

“Absolutely,” I declared as disappointment settled in. I now figured this was strictly a business type meeting. However, I also was excited to be included in a situation of intrigue.

“Nora has been undercover in Jezebel Black’s cult for around nine months now,” Brock informed me.

“You’re kidding!” I exclaimed, stunned. “So you’re saying she belongs to Jezebel Black’s satanic cult, or whatever it is?”

“She does,” Brock said with a hard edge coming into his voice. “Apparently, she went through a pretty insane initiation ritual. She wasn’t ready to give me details, but she convinced Jezebel to the point that she is now not only a part of the cult, but also Jezebel’s lover and a main confidant.”

My mind was reeling as it flashed back to when Nora seemed on the verge of sexually assaulting me, and how she seemed demon possessed. Then I thought of Jezebel Black. When I knew her a decade ago from the Minneapolis club scene, she used to mock and harass us girls who were into other girls. Now Jezebel was not only intimate with another woman, she was intimate with Nora Medora.

“So Nora is into other women?” I asked, trying to clarify a contradictory situation. Brock had told me that Nora had told him she thought same sex couplings were gross. Yet her aggressive kissing and groping with me felt pretty real. Now she’s supposedly pretending to be Jezebel Black’s lover. “How do you feel about this, Brock?”

“You mean this girl we will be looking after?”

“No,” I said, incredulous. “You almost married Nora just days ago. Now you find out she was sleeping with an occult high priestess.”

“It is a bit disheartening,” he said, matter-of-factly as he casually took a sip of water.

I leaned my arms on the table as my mouth hung open. His eyebrows arched as he looked at me.

“Look, Dee,” he said. “You have to understand the dynamic of our relationship. She’s as distant as another human being can be and hard to really know. She did tell me that Jezebel is the only person she was intimate with since she and I have been together. But she did it strictly for her job.”

“Some job,” I said sarcastically. “Did she tell you about her and me?”

“What about you and Nora?”

I told him all about what she did to me on the night of the attack, chronicling every detail.

“Dee, why didn’t you tell me?” Brock asked softly, putting a hand over mine.

“Because she apologized,” I told him. “Then we had a pretty decent conversation afterward. But still, Brock, I can’t fathom why you were gonna marry her.”

“I’ve tried to tell you before that I felt like she’s the only woman I deserve.”

“What about me?” I heard my mouth say before my brain could stop it. “I mean, I have a pretty dark past myself.”

Brock looked at me with wide, almost frightened eyes. His hand, which still covered mine, squeezed gently and then released before he leaned back in his chair with a smile.

“Would you believe the other day when Nora left me at the altar, she told me I should trust you with my secret and let you decide if it’s too dark or not?”

“I agree,” I said enthusiastically as my heart soared with the possibility of pursuing a romantic relationship with Brock.

“I can’t tell you here,” Brock said. “I don’t want to go for a ride and tell you either. Just out of the slim possibility that my car is bugged.”

“When and where then?”

“Tomorrow before fellowship,” Brock said. “The beautiful spot down by the creek.”

“How early should I be?”

“How about a half hour?” he suggested. “That should be plenty of time. Then you’ll have plenty of time to ask God how to get away from me.”

“Oh, come on,” I replied. “I know you said it had to do with violence. But unless you tell me it was against women or children, I can’t imagine not being accepting as well as forgiving of it.”

“No, of course, it wasn’t,” Brock said, looking around nervously. “No more about it till tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” I replied.

I went home on cloud nine at the prospect of a future with Brock. Apparently, Nora approved of us becoming a couple. That was strange, considering how jealous she had seemed. Yet my mind was still snagging on the possibility of Brock’s dark past actually being too twisted to accept. Tomorrow couldn’t get here soon enough.

BROCK

My heart raced as Destiny and I walked to the beautiful spot by the creek shrouded with majestic cottonwood and pine trees. What if she freaked and went to the authorities? I guess that was a chance I needed to take. Maybe I deserved to go to prison. Destiny could very well end up being the love of my life, but she needed to know this part of my past before I would feel comfortable courting her.

“Here we are,” I said with a big sigh.

“Here we are,” she replied with a coy smile.

I put my hands in my pockets and stared at the rippling water of the creek.

“Spill it, Storm,” Destiny said as she playfully bumped into me with her hip. Her abruptness was unsettling, as it reminded me of Nora. But then looking into her bright blue, twinkling eyes, I couldn’t help smiling before I began. “I had a long lousy night of sleep between thinking about Nora in a satanic cult, the human sacrifice girl, and our meeting today.”

“Shall we sit?” I suggested, waving a hand at a rustic looking wooden bench. We sat side by side with Destiny’s light yellow sundress sliding up above her knees as she crossed one shapely leg over the other. She had kicked off her shoes, and her foot ever so slightly touched my Docker covered calf. I was having trouble focusing.

“Brock,” Destiny said quietly. “You can trust me.”

I looked at her wide, earnest eyes and nodded.

“Do you remember me telling you about my brother dying of AIDS?” I asked.

“Of course,” she replied. “He was your oldest brother, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re the youngest of seven total?”

“Right,” I said. “When my brother was dying, my family rejected him because he was gay. I suspect they saw AIDS as some type of judgement against him. That’s why I’ve rejected my family. I haven’t seen or talked to any of them in over ten years. Ron was scared and alone as he died from that horrible disease. Nobody from my immediate family visited him.”

“You visited him, though, right?”

“Yes, I was the only one,” I replied with a nod. “Ironically, because of our age difference, I got to know him better when he was dying than when he was healthy. How sad is that?”

“Pretty sad, definitely.”

“Yeah,” I said. “So we talked about everything. He told me how he intended to become a priest when he was young. He knew early on that he was gay, and he was going to choose to serve God and take a vow of celibacy rather than follow his sexual instincts. Instead, he was seduced into having sex with our parish priest when he was barely a teenager. To make a long, complicated story short, he ultimately gave up the idea of the priesthood. He managed restaurants instead and embraced his homosexual desires, often promiscuously.

“So, after my brother died, I investigated our former parish priest. I discovered what looked like a lot of cover-ups of deviant behavior. I found out he was actually still an active priest at a church in Michigan. So, I grew my beard out, colored my hair blond, and paid him a visit. I had a gun with a silencer. God as my witness, I didn’t intend to kill him, just scare him.”

I looked at Destiny, and her face looked frightened as she sat stone-still. Her mouth gaped open. I froze as I pondered what she must be thinking.

“Go on, Brock,” she said soothingly as she gently touched my knee.

“I broke into his house in the middle of the night. As he snored his bedroom, I snooped. I found hundreds of erotic images of teenage boys, about a dozen of which were of my brother. Suddenly, I heard a low voice from behind me telling me to put my hands up.

“The priest was pointing a gun at me with one hand and he picked up the phone with the other. Before he called 911, he instructed me to lay on the floor. He couldn’t see my gun in my waist band as I sat at his desk. As I began to comply, I pulled and fired. I hit him in the stomach. I only intended to snoop, scare, and yes, rough him up. Getting gut shot isn’t pleasant.”

“Getting any kind of shot wouldn’t be pleasant,” Destiny said.

I was encouraged that, although intently engaged, she didn’t seem rattled by what I was telling her.

“True, but gut shot is exceptionally painful and usually doesn’t kill right away. I simply pointed and fired. I wasn’t trying to torture him. But I let him squirm in agony as I explained who I was and what he did. Then I pointed the gun at his head to put him out of his misery.

“Then a demonic look came into his eyes and he began to describe vulgar things about him and my brother, interspersed with him telling me to shoot him. Then his pain intensified and he begged. I let him writhe for a long minute before I ended his misery. I’m ashamed to admit that I got off on the power of life and death that I held at that moment… It was wrong.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, holding back tears, as the weight of my sins was before me. Psalm 38:4 is a verse I had memorized when I first turned to God a year ago. I did this without trying because I felt it so keenly. But then verses 21 and 22 of the same chapter I remembered on purpose. They reminded me of my need of God, and His willingness to forgive and save.

I felt Destiny’s hand go to my back and gently rub. I was relieved that she seemed to be accepting, but she’d only heard a fraction of what I had done. I sat up and sighed.

“So I fled without a trace,” I went on. “But the incident ignited something within me. I say to my shame that I loved the feeling of vengeance and justice. After I got that job in Miami, I began looking into various pedophiles and rapists who got away with their crimes.”

I looked into Destiny’s eyes. They were welling with tears and her face looked stern. It was over with her and me, I thought. Talk about a ‘she loves me, she loves me not’ situation.

“So,” I croaked. “Over the next eight years, I executed twenty-three more men. Not once did I torture them, though. The first was the worst and the only time I let someone linger in pain. My intention was to exact justice and rid the world of scum. It’s been more than a year and a half since my last killing, and I never intend to do it again.”

We stared at each other for a long moment, and I honestly felt like whatever spark might have been starting romantically between us had been snuffed out.

“Brock,” Destiny began.  “I can’t even begin to count how many women, girls really, I’ve met throughout the years who have been sexually abused among other things. I’m not gonna say what you did was right, but I do understand wanting to rid the world of predators. So, is that the extent of your dark past?”

“In a nutshell, yes,” I replied. “So do you feel any differently about me?”

“Not a bit,” she said emphatically. “I thought you were gonna tell me you did something like killing for hire when you worked out of Miami. You know, a hitman not caring who or why you were killing them. That would have been a lot harder to get my mind around. Yet even if that was the case, God forgives you if you confess and repent. Plus, there’s something you should know. I, too, am guilty of murder.”

“What!” I exclaimed.

“I had an abortion when I was seventeen,” she told me.

He smiled sadly and nodded, as if to say he understood.

“So you see,” I said. “Who am I not to forgive? At least you killed the guilty. I killed not only the innocent, but what would have been my future child.”

“Did you believe life begins at conception back then?”

“Well, no,” she shrugged.

“You probably believed one of the pro-abortion mantras, like it’s just a bunch of cells.”

“Aren’t we all a bunch of cells? Just a lot more of them.”

“You know, what we’re talking about. It’s not only about forgiveness,” I told her.

Destiny frowned and looked at me inquisitively.

“If you’re able to look past my past,” I told her. “I was hoping you and I could start looking at a future together. That is, if you also want to.”

She looked at me dreamily before she spoke. “I do, Brock, definitely!”

“You know what?” I said. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you said I do, and how happy I am that Nora didn’t.”

Destiny giggled and looked away from me shyly. Might as well get this started, I thought. I gently lifted Destiny’s chin and guided her face to look at me. Then I kissed her. This time it wasn’t inspired by the pressure of a kiss cam on a jumbotron, or by unknowingly drinking alcohol tainted tea. Best of all, when I pulled away from the quick peck, she looped an arm around my neck to pull me back for another.

CHAPTER 13

NORA MEDORA

“Hey, sexy,” Jezebel Black’s voice said through Nora Medora’s cell phone. “What’s up?”

“Mission accomplished,” Nora replied.

“Do tell,” Jezebel said.

“I shot and killed two assailants entering Brock’s house early this morning. Two more were arrested out on his property. Best of all, Malcolm Reed was arrested this afternoon on multiple charges, the most serious being conspiracy to commit murder. But as far as I can tell, Reed is unaware that you sold him out.”

“Then I’ll have to change that, my dear,” she drawled. “I want him to know I was involved.

“That might not be such a good idea.”

“He basically tried to throw me under the bus at his first trial a decade ago,” she explained. “I want him to know that vengeance is mine, says Jezebel Black.”

“Just so you know, even in prison, he can be dangerous.”

“As if he’d be able find somebody to put a hit on me after today,” she mused. “Two dead and two arrested under Malcolm’s employ.”

“True enough, but you can never say never.”

There was a brief pause in their conversation.

“So, are you still going to marry Brock Storm the day after tomorrow?” Jezebel wanted to know.

“That’s the plan.”

“I’m jealous.”

“For me or him?”

“Both,” she said before a sinister cackle. “But you’re still gonna be my girl, right?”

“We’ll see,” Nora teased. A few months ago she would have made a gag gesture in person, but now she was hidden by the phone. So she simply smirked. Jezebel, despite her wicked ways, had grown on her. Maybe it was the danger, the forbidden, or maybe Brock withholding sex. Whatever it was, she felt a strange thrill in anticipation of her trysts with the occult leader.

“Now, now,” Jezebel warned. “You’ve given yourself over to the dark one. I’d hate to think of the curses you’d face if you turn your back to it now. Especially since you’ve just been rewarded with the biggest bust of your career.”

Adrenaline surged through Nora at her words. Why did they frighten her? She barely believed in a “higher power,” let alone a devil. Yet something supernatural did seem to be going on, and it was definitely tinged with evil.

“Now that it’s over,” Jezebel asked, “will you be able spend the night with me tomorrow?”

Nora began to breath a little harder. Little did Jezebel realize that Nora wasn’t done. Not only that, Jezebel herself was her next target. Due to their physical intimacy, Nora had been given access to the house of horrors she otherwise wouldn’t have had.

Nora discovered that Jezebel’s cult was planning a human sacrifice in the not to distant future. Nora needed to get to the bottom of that. No way could she allow Jezebel to commit murder for a stupid satanic ritual. So she would in fact spend the night with Jezebel.

“I will,” Nora heard herself say.

“I’ll get you good and ready for your nuptials,” Jezebel cooed.

“I bet you will,” Nora replied with a sultry voice. She was surprised at the smile she could feel on her face. Oh well, the part of her that felt aroused only helped her seem genuine.

Nora’s phone beeped, telling her that she had an incoming call. “Hey, I’ll let you go. I have call on the other line.”

“Okay, kiss, kiss.”

“Kiss, kiss,” Nora replied, yet she rolled her eyes.

“Hello,” Nora said into her phone. She didn’t recognize the number, other than the Illinois area code.

It was the FBI. She had had a couple of interviews with them in the previous weeks about an opening at the Chicago office. The person on the phone told her that they been undecided between her and another candidate. It seemed they were both equal in experience and education.

But now they had gotten wind of the arrests that morning in the Malcom Reed case. This development had given her the nod over the other candidate. Did she want the job? She calmly told them that she did, as her toes wiggled with excitement. When they hung up, she was in disbelief. She was going to be an FBI agent!

Her mind went to what Jezebel had told her. “You’ve just been rewarded with the biggest bust of your career.”

Had Nora truly given myself over to dark forces? She shook her head no, but then frowned. If so, were they really the reason this happened? She breathed heavily with nervous excitement as she recalled being initiated into Jezebel’s coven of dark arts.

Her motives were just a ploy weren’t they? Was selling your soul a real thing? Once again she shook her head. Yet her excitement was mixed with perplexity.

BROCK

“Guess what?” Nora said as she came bouncing into my house.

She had been outside for the last twenty minutes talking on her phone. It was strange indeed seeing the joyless Nora Medora so peppy and upbeat. This day’s arrests seemed to have done wonders for her mood.

“I give up,” I told her.

“I’m most likely going to be hired by the FBI,” she said, pronouncing each letter of the acronym very slowly.

I stiffened, wondering what this meant for me and what I had confided to her about the men I had murdered.

“I’m not gonna try to arrest my own husband, silly,” she said as if reading my thoughts. “On the other hand, even though I believe justice was served by what you did, an FBI agent shouldn’t be married to an active serial killer.”

“I told you I’m done with that.”

“I know, I’m just saying,” she replied. Yet she didn’t elaborate. “Well, I gotta get back to the state capital.”

Nora looped her arms around my neck and kissed me hard. When she pushed away, she really pushed away. She struck a hand hard into my chest and hooked her leg behind mine, taking me down. She landed on top of me, laughing and kissing me hard again.

“Unless you can convince me to stay the night,” she cooed. “I actually don’t have to be back until first thing in the morning.”

“Look, Nora,” I said. “In forty-eight hours, we’ll be married.”

“Party pooper,” she said, and for the first time that I had ever witnessed, Nora Medora pouted, even if it was in jest. “We’re gonna need to make up for lost time as soon as we say I do.”

“Believe me, after the last couple days seeing you in your tiny robe, I’ll be more than ready.”

“It probably didn’t help kissing your little porn star either.”

“Former,” I corrected.

“Or the glimpses I’m sure you caught of your ‘former’ porn star in her cute but tiny nighty.”

I didn’t reply. Nora smirked, winked, and kissed me one more time.

“I’ll see you this weekend,” she said and promptly left.

In some ways, it seemed like a blink of an eye later when Nora and I were standing and facing a Bible-wielding Captain Kirk. We were dressed in regular church garb rather than wedding gear. I wore tan Dockers and light blue polo, while Nora wore her typical tan cop skirt and a white blouse. Destiny stood to the left of Nora and Jacob Weston flanked my right. Mary Gold Weston, Bentley Bonnano, and the pastor’s wife were the only other people there.

To be honest, I was so tense, nervous, and apprehensive that I didn’t hear much of what the pastor was saying. Then he had Nora and I turn to face each other, taking hold of each other’s hands. Captain Kirk began speaking again. Instead of a look of love and affection, Nora wore a look of determination. Even though I felt something like dread come over me, I smiled as the queue to recite my two words in our simple union came about.

“I do,” I declared.

Nora’s expression suddenly fell and a look of confusion crossed her face. When Captain Kirk gave her the queue a moment later to say her vows, she began to pant like she had been running. Her eyes looked frightened as she glanced from me to the pastor and then back to me.

“I can’t,” she said instead of saying ‘I do.’ “I’m sorry, Brock.”

“Oh my,” Mary Gold gasped, yet she looked pleased. Captain Kirk kept a mostly blank face; yet I saw a twitch of a smile play at his lips. Dee’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in surprise. Then she meekly bowed her head, but it looked like she was repressing a grin. Jake looked at me with raised eyebrows and then shrugged. It fully hit me just how much my closest friends didn’t want this to happen. Only Bentley looked disappointed as he shook his head sympathetically.

I was truly taken by surprised. Then I was overwhelmed with a variety of feelings. The main thing I felt was relief. But I also felt disappointed that we wouldn’t be making love in a little while. My felonious past also arose to haunt my thoughts. Two days previous, Nora had said she wouldn’t arrest her husband, but now I would not be her husband.

“Can we talk in private, Brock?” Nora asked.

“Of course,” I replied as we went outside and began to walk down to Cotton Cove Creek.

“I’ve been thinking really hard the last couple days,” she said as her eyes filled with tears. “This whole thing with the FBI made me realize something. Not only am I already married to my career, but also you deserve a normal marriage. You know, white picket fence and all.”

“You know as well as I do that’s not possible,” I said.

“Why’s that?” Nora asked as if she didn’t already know.

“I can’t marry anyone with the blood I have on my hands.”

“I thought you said you were done with that?”

“I’m absolutely done with that.”

“So move on.”

“I have,” I insisted. “But I can’t undo my past. Now that we’re not marrying, I have no security that you won’t arrest me one day.”

“Is that why you were going to marry me?” Nora asked as she crossed her arms.

“It did supply me with a sense of security,” I replied and then put a gentle hand on her cheek. “But I was going to marry you because we’ve already been together, for the most part, for six years. Plus, I truly do love you, Nora. Even though we do have, or have had an unconventional relationship.”

She put a hand over my hand that was on her cheek as tears leaked from her eyes. This was a rare sight indeed. She kissed me softly on the lips.

“I truly love you, too,” she said just above a whisper. “And because I love you, I’m going to tell you something. I need to set you free. You and Destiny should be together.”

This surprised me, as well as made me uncomfortable. The way Nora Medora was looking at me reminded me of the time my mother confronted me with an erotic magazine she had found in my bedroom.

“What makes you say that?” I stammered.

“I’m a trained detective, and the chemistry between you two is combustible. Plus, you two have the same religious beliefs. And with her porn background, she should be sympathetic to your murderous background.”

“Nora, what I did was so twisted that you’re the only woman I would feel comfortable yoking up with.”

“So that is why you were going to marry me,” Nora said with a smirk as she crossed her arms again.

I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her lips softly.

“Do you not get that I really do love you, Nora Medora?” I asked her.

“I do,” she barley whispered.

“Oh, sure, now you say I do.”

She laughed, and then she took hold of my hands. “I think you can trust Dee with your background.”

“What if you arrest me someday, though?”

“Listen, Brock,” Nora said as her eyes turned cold and hard in the way I was used to seeing them. “I’ll share something with you that I really shouldn’t.”

Her eyes bore into mine with an intensity that matched anything I’d seen in her windows to the soul before. She didn’t say anything, though, and it was as if we were having a stare down all of a sudden.

“What gives, Nora?” I finally asked, not wanting to play any games.

“I may need your help with something,” she stated, completely business now. “As a matter of fact, I’m sure I will need your help with a case.”

“I’ll do what I can,” I replied cautiously. “What do you need?”

“Promise me that you’ll keep this to yourself.”

“Promise me that you won’t arrest me someday.”

“How about I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure I won’t arrest you someday?”

“How about ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine?”

“Fine, ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine,” she said with exasperation at my lighthearted request. “I’ve been under cover with Jezebel Black’s occult group.”

“What?” I interrupted, shocked and disappointed, yet refraining from using profanity due to spiritual development. “You’ve been corroborating with the enemy?”

Nora closed her eyes and put out a hand, suggesting I should stop.

“Listen to me, Storm,” she said as her eyelids lifted. “I’ve been able to uncover several illegal activities that this occult group has been involved with, as well as future planned activities. The most serious is that Jezebel Black plans on a human sacrifice! Not only that she wants her youngest sister for this satanic ritual.”

“What?” I barked again. “Why would she kill her own sister?”

“Because Jezebel Black is a sick, twisted individual who also happens to be deluded with grandiose illusions that the devil, or whatever dark forces she adheres to, will bless her if she performs a human sacrifice. The most desirable being a young, female virgin.”

“How young?” I wanted to know.

“Eighteen.”

“I’m surprised that an eighteen-year-old sister of Jezebel Black’s would be a virgin.”

“Well, she’s not quite eighteen, and she’s also a half-sister. Jezebel Black has two half-sisters with different fathers, but the same mother. This youngest sister was mostly raised by her grandfather. The grandfather died recently, and now she’s living with the middle sister, who happens to be a stripper. This stripper sister apparently wants this younger one to follow suit, but she doesn’t want to. It seems she had a somewhat decent, respectable life with Grandpa and is freaked out by the idea of getting naked in front of men for a living. But her stripper sister has pretty much bullied her into following her career path. Ironically, Jezebel is having her delay this endeavor, but the stripper sister doesn’t know about Jezebel’s plan to murder the other sister in a ritual.”

“Crazy,” I mumbled as I tried to get my head around this.

“If you only knew,” Nora said quietly, her face looking strained.

“So what do you need from me?” I asked.

“You’re specialty,” she said with a smirk. “Protection.”

“Like what we just did with Dee?”

“Not quite,” Nora said, shaking her head. “This would be low-key compared to Dee’s situation. I was thinking when I roomed with Dee that it would be a perfect place to hide this kid out while I worked on taking down Jezebel Black.”

“Are you saying you just want her to stay with me?”

“Yes, but you’ll need Dee to stay with you, too. I don’t expect a teenage girl to stay with two men, one of whom is a little bizarre and weird.”

“Do you mean me or Bent?”

“You, of course,” she said with a wink. “Plus, if she were to room with Dee, I was thinking Dee could help her stay away from the sex industry.”

I nodded dumbly as I was torn about Dee staying with me for who knew how long. I loved the idea of her companionship, but I dreaded catching glimpses of her in her nightie now that I would be attempting celibacy for the indefinite future.

Fifteen minutes later, Nora was gone and I found myself alone with Destiny in the church foyer. She approached me meekly with her fingers interlaced in front of her.

“I’m so sorry, Brock,” she said softly as she winced.

My mind was so preoccupied about Nora going undercover in a satanic cult and this girl we might be protecting that I said one of the stupidest things in my life.

“About what?” I asked with arched eyebrows.

“About what?” Destiny laughed awkwardly as she tucked a strand of honey blonde hair behind an ear. “About Nora, um, you know… Leaving you at the altar.”

I could feel my face redden with embarrassment. I was, after all, just stood up at the altar like she said. Thankfully the people in attendance were in the single digits.

“Oh, you mean Nora deciding not to marry me.” Now I laughed awkwardly. “To be honest, I feel more relieved than disappointed.”

“Oh,” she said, wide-eyed. “It’s just that you had such a pained expression on your face just now.”

“Oh, I was thinking about my talk with Nora. She might need my help with a case.”

“Huh?” Destiny replied with a frown.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “This might have been one of the strangest runaway bride situations ever. Instead of focusing on our relationship and why we weren’t getting married, we mostly talked about a case she’s working on.”

“Really?” she replied, incredulously.

“Really,” I chuckled. “Nora Medora is truly married to her career. I now fully realize that I’ve just been her paramour for the last six years.”

“Do you mean like a male mistress?” Destiny asked with a grin.

“Exactly.”

“So what’s this case that she needs your help with?”

“She wants me to keep it to myself for now. But I can tell you this much. She also wants your help, Dee. It involves a teenage girl who is being pressured by her sister to become a stripper. The sister already is a stripper. Nora thinks you would be able to advise her. She was thinking that you two could share your room if I end up protecting her. ”

“I’d be glad to,” Destiny responded eagerly.

“Her life is also at risk, but I can’t tell you about that just yet.”

Little did we know then that this next adventure would be more dangerous than the last.

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.

CHAPTER 11

DESTINY

I was absolutely mortified! I lost control of my bladder in the frightful chaos on the porch. Not only that, I was straddling Brock’s leg as we landed in a tangled heap, thereby wetting him also. I was frozen with supreme embarrassment when Brock’s gentle words brought me back to a semblance of reality.

“Dee, are you hurt?” Brock wanted to know.

I opened my mouth and closed it.

“Dee, what’s wrong?”

“I peed,” I barely whispered.

“You what?”

I put my mouth right up to Brock’s ear, not wanting Bent to overhear.

“I peed,” I repeated. “I’m so sorry, as well as mortified. I was really scared.”

“So that’s not blood I feel on my leg,” Brock said quietly into my ear.

I shook my head as I pushed myself off of Brock and sat. I felt like I was half drunk. My shame intensified when I noticed a dark stain covering most of the right pant leg of Brock’s jeans. I concentrated hard to hold back the tears pushing behind my eyes.

“Bent, did you spike that tea in the fridge?”

“No,” Bent insisted.

There was a snapping, clacking noise.

“What kind is it, Lipton?” Brock asked.

“Twisted,” Bent replied.

Clack, clack, clack, the noise continued.

“Twisted, as in the adult beverage?” Brock demanded.

“One and the same,” Bent replied.

“I should have known better than to offer Destiny a drink that you supposedly made.”

Clack, clack, clack.

“Bent, why do keep snapping your teeth together?”

“I keep hearing an echo in my head,” Bent said with a frown.

“Imagine that,” Brock said with exasperation. “So tell me why you put Twisted Tea in the pitcher instead of normal tea. You know I don’t drink.”

“I thought it would help the little lady relax, given her situation. I just forgot to tell you all.”

“Dee doesn’t drink either.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Bent said with a shrug. “Now I know.”

No wonder I was feeling so light, spacey, and carefree. I was indeed half drunk. That also explained why my inhibitions were lowered to the point that I began blubbering to Brock about how he was a longtime fantasy of mine.

I knew then that I had made a huge mistake when I confessed that I loved him, and he replied by asking “huh” instead of saying “I love you, too.” Then I continued to blubber even further, and he responded by telling me that I really didn’t know him. Right when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I urinated on him.

As I sat up in my soggy shorts and let my foggy brain collect its bearings, my humiliation only grew. It finally had grown to the point that I could no longer hold back the suppressed tears or refrain from choking out a sob. I sprang to my feet and dashed into the house. Brock called my name as he jumped up in pursuit. He caught me by the hand as I attempted to climb the stairs. I lost it with my shoulders shaking and the weeping floodgates opening. I jerked my hand away from his and turned to flee up the stairs. Brock grabbed me around the waist with surprising force and roughly pulled me into a spoon embrace.

“I’ve never been so ashamed outside of my adult entertainment career,” I blurted.

“Dee, it’s no big deal. You had three big glasses of Twisted Tea in less than an hour. Then with Bent jumping out like he did, especially when we needed to be on our guard, I was more than startled myself. I failed in protecting you. Thank God it wasn’t the real thing. Bent’s foolishness was a blessing in disguise. I will be more alert now.”

“Losing control of my bladder is only half of it,” I told him, letting the other half be self-explanatory and hoping he understood. “Divulging my secret feelings for you is the other.”

“Oh, Dee, I love you too,” he said with a soft, gentle voice as he stroked my hair. “If you knew how much I love and desire you, it would scare you to death. You also don’t know how much what you told me on the porch means to me. But it also saddens me.”

I reluctantly pushed away from his warm, tight, backward embrace. I was relishing the fire his words brought to my heart, but his warning extinguished those feelings instantly. I looked him earnestly in the eyes.

“Why does it sadden you?” I asked, trying not to plead.

“Because I’m marrying Nora,” he said almost regretfully.

I hung my head and nodded. Brock gently lifted my chin, and before I knew what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was only a matter of seconds before we both deepened it, my arms lacing around his neck and his hands softly clutching my back. After a minute or two, he pushed us apart.

“Dee, I’m sorry. That was inappropriate,” Brock declared, looking as rattled as I had ever seen him.

I hung my head and nodded again. I’m not proud of what I said next, but I was still buzzing from the Twisted Tea. I hadn’t planned on drinking alcohol, but since I inadvertently did, why not take advantage of its truth serum? That’s how twisted the human carnal condition is, and why we need to rise above the carnal mind with the spiritual mind.

“You know how you’re planning on marrying Nora this weekend?” I asked.

“We may have to postpone that depending on how the next few days go,” Brock replied. “But go on.”

I swallowed. “I’d be willing to marry you this weekend if you so choose. Then you would be yoked to a fellow believer.”

“Dee,” he said softly. “I have to marry Nora. I know she and I have a very unconventional relationship, but we’ve been together six years. She also knows things about my violent past and that could get me in a lot of trouble.”

“So she’s blackmailing you into marriage?”

“No,” he said shaking his head. “The main reason I’m marrying her is because in a sense, after being together six years, we are sort of already common law married. Even though we never actually lived together. Plus, I know she can deal with my violent past.”

I nodded dumbly. “So what exactly did you do that could get you into big trouble?”

“I’ve probably told you too much already, Dee, but I feel like I owe it to you. Will you promise me that this conversation stays between us?”

“I promise,” I said, offering my hand to shake.

“I guess we remain just friends, then,” he said taking my hand.

“Hopefully the best of friends,” I replied, holding back tears of extreme frustration.

There was a scream that sounded like it came from Bent. A gun appeared in Brock’s hand as if by magic. He pulled us behind the banister as he scanned every window and door. Then Nora walked through the door all business-like wearing the same tan skirt and blouse that she wore to church a few weeks previous. Only now instead of heals, she wore tennis shoes.

“Brock,” she called out.

We came out from behind the bannister. Nora frowned at us.

“You might want to go help your squirrely friend Bonnano,” Nora told Brock.

“Why, what’s up?”

“He jumped out at me wearing some hideous mask and suffered a rather severe blow to the abdomen.”

“That knucklehead,” Brock said. “You’d think he would have learned from the first episode.”

“What first episode?” Nora asked. “By the way, did you spill something on your shorts or are you just happy to see me?”

I quietly climbed the stairs to take a shower as Brock began to explain to Nora about Bent jumping out at us. Nora was an intimidating person as it was, so I really didn’t want to be in her presence when Brock got to the part about me wetting myself.

It was hot and humid outside. Between being sticky from heat along with my midsection and upper legs being saturated with urine, the shower felt extra good. It also seemed to somewhat settle my buzzing brain. After drying off and donning my favorite sleep shirt, I went to my temporary bedroom. Nora was there, digging through a suitcase.

“Hey, roomie,” she said after barely glancing at me.

“Hey,” I responded as I sat on my queen-size bed and grabbed my Bible from the nightstand.

Nora sat on the twin bed Brock had just purchased and removed her tennis shoes.

“You can have my bed, Nora,” I said, feeling guilty at having the larger bed when she was here to protect me.

“No, sugar. I’m fine,” she said with a strange smile. “I think this will all be over sooner than later. Our investigation indicates that Malcolm Reed put out a hit posthaste. It could even go down tonight.”

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach over her chilling words. Then I looked at my open Bible and read a verse I had highlighted, Proverbs 12:28. It said “In the way of righteousness is life; and in the pathway thereof there is no death.” Peace washed away the butterflies. Then Nora became a major distraction and disruption.

First she removed her blouse and bra. Then she stood and removed her skirt and panties. I stared at my Bible, unable to concentrate, waiting for her to depart for a shower. To my horror, she walked over toward me instead. While completely naked, she sat next to me on my bed. I tensed when she patted my bare leg, just above the knee.

“Don’t feel bad about peeing yourself,” she told me. “With the tension of an imminent attack and that deranged character known as Bentley Bonnano leaping out like a lunatic, it’s perfectly understandable.”

“Thanks, but I’d feel better if I reacted the way you did,” I said, smiling but keeping my eyes locked on hers.

“Keep in mind that I’ve been a cop for almost fifteen years. And I’ve practiced martial arts for just as long.”

“True.”

“So don’t worry, girlfriend,” she said, slipping an arm around my lower back. “You’re in good hands.”

Her fingers pressed lightly below my ribs, causing me to jerk and squirm. Nora smiled and laughed. It was the first genuine pleasantness I had ever seen in her. But it was to be fleeting. When I wiggled away from her, my nightshirt rode high up on my thighs. Nora grabbed the hem and yanked my shirt up above my hips.

“Oh my, you’re al fresco under there,” she said.

“Nora!” I declared as I yanked my shirt back down and stood.

“Sorry,” she said in a mocking type voice. “I thought you were a lesbian.”

“I was bisexual,” I said. “As in the past.”

“I see,” she said as she stretched out on my bed and propped her head up with her arm.

“Nora, are you faithful to Brock?”

Nora instantly sat up and stood facing me with her hands on her hips. A cold, hard look transformed her face.

“I was just messing with you a little, Destiny. Since you were so blunt, I’ll be blunt. I haven’t been intimate with another guy besides Brock in over six years. Even during our brief break up. Now hear me, little miss prissy. I actually don’t care for you very much. Brock was never one to look at much porn, but for some reason, he was border line obsessed with you. I know now a large part of it had to do with your Malcolm Reed incident. Yet I still didn’t get why that would make him feel the need to download everything you did in porn.”

Nora’s eyes seemed to vibrate with anger. Then she paused and rubbed a hand over her face. She closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them again, she seemed calmer and focused, yet her words that followed were even harsher.

“Put yourself in my shoes, Destiny. My fiancée had a serious thing for this gorgeous, cute girl next door type that became a porn star whom he knew from a decade ago. Then low and behold, you two just happen to start attending the same church near Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Plus, knowing Brock the way I do, he will be attending this church for a long, long time. I don’t know you very well, but if you attend for a long time also, you and he could become quite chummy over time.”

I thought of the rather intense kiss Brock and I shared right before Nora showed up. I could feel myself blush as I recalled. I also felt guilt and shame as I stood here with his fiancée, for whom I was supposed to be maid of honor.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Nora asked.

“I understand how you feel,” I tried not to stammer. “I’m also honored that you asked me to be your maid of honor. But given what you just told me, why did you?”

“A couple of reasons, actually,” Nora replied as she paused folding her arms under her bare breasts as she eyed me skeptically.

“Go ahead, I’m listening,” I said lamely.

“First of all,” Nora continued. “It’s just gonna be a quickie wedding. Plus, I don’t have anyone I’m close to in Iowa that I would want to bring in to be a witness. Also, Brock thinks highly of you, post-porn that is. I’m also sure that you and Brock are going to be friends, and I want to be cool about it. What better way to prove that I am than by asking you to stand up for me?”

“Well, I’m truly honored,” I said. “I also hope we can become friends. I mean, not that we aren’t now. It’s just that we don’t know each other very well.”

Nora seemed to smirk for a second, and then her arms fell by her sides.

“I’m gonna shower,” she declared.

Then, without grabbing a robe or something to cover up with, Nora marched out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom. I’m sure Bent would be pleasantly surprised if he happened by just then. I began to wish the attack would come tonight, just to get this whole thing over with.

BROCK

It was rapidly getting dark when I found Bent curled by Nora’s car. His Halloween mask sat upright a few feet from him, giving the appearance of a hideous creature whose body was buried in the earth.

“Bent, are you okay, buddy?” I tried to ask soothingly, even though I was very irritated with him.

“I was scared, man,” Bent mumbled. “I couldn’t breathe for like two minutes.”

“That’s not gonna help your brain any,” I replied.

“Huh?”

“Never mind, let’s get you inside.”

I helped Bent onto the couch. Then I made sandwiches for everyone. When I took Bent a sandwich, he reached for it and then stopped mid-reach as his eyes got wide. I looked at where his eyes were aimed just in time to catch a glimpse of a completely nude Nora Medora sauntering past the upper stairwell. I sighed heavily, knowing Nora was in some kind of ornery mood.

“Did you see Nora up there completely nude?” Bentley crooned.

I didn’t respond.

“She was naked!” He enthused. “That might have been the best few seconds of my life!”

I didn’t respond.

“You wouldn’t believe how good she looked.”

I looked at him and frowned, but I still didn’t respond. I decided to check on Destiny with her words from a little while ago still echoing loudly in my head. ‘I’d marry you this weekend if you so choose,’ she had said. Did she really mean it, or was it the alcohol talking?

“You doing okay then, Bent?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, especially after seeing Nora in her birthday suit. I’ve now forgiven her for hitting me in the solar plexus.”

“After you eat your sandwich, you better get to your post.”

“But I wanna see more of Nora in the buff.”

“You’re not gonna miss anything. I’m gonna tell her to cover up.”

“Can I come with you?”

“She was going to the shower,” I replied with exasperation. “I’m gonna tell her through  the door.”

“Bummer.”

I knocked on Destiny’s door with annoyance. It wasn’t just because of Nora behaving like she was at a nudist retreat. It was mostly because I wanted Destiny with her or me at all times.

“Dee, it’s me,” I said to the door.

“Come in, Brock.”

I stepped into the bedroom and found Destiny sitting on her bed with an open Bible on her lap. She looked at me wide eyed and smiled. Her long, honey-colored hair was mostly pulled back with a hair clip. A long tendril strayed against her cheek, and she pushed it behind her ear with an index finger. Did she try to look adorable, or was that just who she was? I believed it was the latter.

Then she closed her Bible, placed it on the nightstand, and stood. She wore an old, skimpy nightshirt that was pink and had Tweety Bird on the front. The material was somewhat thin from much use and tight enough that it showed her gentle curves. Until these last two days, I hadn’t seen Destiny outside of church, where she usually wore long, modest skirts and dresses. Maybe because of all those years in the sex industry and only a month or two as a conservative Christian, Destiny was unaware to a large degree of just how incredibly sexy she was. I held my breath as I concentrated on keeping my eyes on hers and not roaming downward.

“Is something wrong?” Destiny asked, now looking concerned.

I let out my breath. “Everything is fine, I think. I just wanted to make sure you were settled and comfortable.”

“I’m fine,” she said, shrugging and nodding.

“Is everything good with you and Nora?” I wanted to know. “She about gave Bent a heart attack.”

“Did she hurt him pretty badly?” she asked, wincing.

“I’m not talking about the blow to the belly she gave him. I had Bent recovering on the couch when he saw her walking to the shower, um, not wearing any clothes.”

Destiny sighed, closed her eyes, and shook her head. Her demeanor was sad and troubled rather than judgmental. It occurred to me that I needed to have a word with Nora before she finished her shower. I knew it was her tendency to take a long, relaxing shower after a hard day. Nora had mentioned to me downstairs that she had been up since 3:30 in the morning. I’m sure that was another ingredient in Nora’s odd behavior.

“I’ll be back in a minute, Dee.”

I knocked on the bathroom door as I heard the gentle whoosh of the shower running. I talked to the door, saying Nora’s name.

“Enter, my stud muffin,” Nora replied.

I began to wonder if she had tapped into Bent’s Twisted Tea. I had meant to talk to her through the door, but realized we would need to shout. We had a nice, thick shower curtain, and what I had to discuss would take one minute at the most. So I went in.

“Did you come to join me?” Nora asked seductively.

“No, I came to tell you to cover up from now on. You gave poor Bent an image that will be forever tattooed on his brain.”

“Poor Bent,” she said sarcastically. “He couldn’t have gotten more than a three second eyeful, and I bet I made his day. No, I bet I made his year.”

“Well, knowing Bent, he’s gonna be laying in his tent trying to recall each of the three seconds right down to the tenths, rather than focusing on any approaching enemies.”

Nora laughed her rare, deep-throated laugh. She didn’t laugh often, and when she did, it sounded more malevolent than humor filled. She unexpectedly flung back the shower curtain. I received a couple seconds’ eyeful of her soapy, wet, glistening body before I quickly turned my head.

“Brock Storm, you’re ridiculous!” Nora declared angrily. In my peripheral vision, I could tell she had her hands on her hips. “All of the time you have spent being intimate with this body, and now you won’t even look at it?”

“I’m not looking because I very much want to be intimate with you.”

“Well get in here, then!”

“Not until were married.”

“What a fool!”

“Even if I was willing, we can’t be leaving Dee alone. From this point on, either you or I stay near her, okay?”

“Yes, commander,” she said as she flung the shower curtain closed. “In my big, dark purple suitcase there is a robe that you can bring me. Maybe Dee can walk it back with you so she’s not alone.”

“Why didn’t you bring it in with you in the first place?”

“I’d been conversing with a porn star, so I guess it lowered my modesty and inhibitions.”

“Former porn star.”

“Whatever,” she sneered a reply. “By the way, it looks like Bentley has a freshly bent nose. Just to be clear, I didn’t do it.”

“I know.”

“Do you know how he did it?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “He and a buddy were jumping in the kitchen where the ceiling is low. It’s around eight feet I think. They were seeing how close they could get to touching their heads to the ceiling. Bent was getting pretty close. On one jump, he gave it extra effort. He also happened to look up as he did so.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Nora moaned. “Good thing his name is Bent.”

“I wish I was.”

“I know Bent’s a good friend of yours and all, but the guy is a moron.”

“I’m not gonna argue,” I sighed again. “He’s an amazing mechanic though.”

“On the order of Gomer and Goober Pyle I see.”

I returned to the odd couple’s bedroom and found Destiny as I did before, sitting on her bed reading her Bible. She watched me dig briefly in Nora’s suitcase to retrieve a silky robe. The familiar smell and feel of it caused a stirring of arousal.  It added to the other small stirring Nora caused when she had flung the shower curtain open. That was in addition to the buzz from kissing and hugging Destiny. It didn’t matter one bit if Nora used up the rest of the hot water because I wasn’t going to need it for my shower. After taking Nora’s robe to her, I returned to Destiny and sat on Nora’s bed. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna hang out with you until Nora’s done with her shower.”

“That’s fine,” Destiny said with a sweet smile. “I’m glad you are.”

“I told Nora that from this point on, I want her or me to be near you at all times.”

“Okay,” Destiny replied as she nodded, but then looked at me, puzzled. “Can I tell you something pretty awkward?”

“Of course,” I said, trying to smile as my pulse quickened.

Destiny opened her mouth and then closed it. Then she folded her arms and looked away from me.

“Dee, what is it? Just tell me.”

“Nora hit on me, I think.”

“You mean, like, made a pass?”

Destiny nodded and then told me about Nora’s behavior and the dialogue between them. The only thing that actually surprised me was Nora pulling up Destiny’s nightshirt.

“She wasn’t hitting on you, Dee,” I reassured her. “Nora was just trying to get into your head a little. Trust me. She knows that you, like me, have renounced your old lifestyle.”

“Is that one of the reasons she doesn’t like me?” Destiny wanted to know.

“She wouldn’t have asked you to be her best woman if she disliked like you.”

“You mean maid of honor.”

“Right.”

“So you’re saying that she likes me?”

“No,” I replied. “Nora doesn’t like very many people. I’m just saying that she doesn’t dislike you. She’s neutral on most people. Shoot, I’m not sure she likes me and she’s gonna marry me.”

“You’re not sure that you’re soon-to-be-wife likes you? Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Like I tried to explain before, she and I have a different dynamic that seems to suit both of us. Nora is a great cop. Her career is her way of overcoming or battling what she sees as evil. That’s where she channels most of the crazy drive inside of her. The rest is channeled into working out like a maniac.”

“I just don’t get why you’re gonna marry her,” Destiny seemed to plead, almost sounding like she might cry. “She’s such a witch.”

“Why are you gonna be her best woman, then, if you don’t approve?”

“Maid of honor.”

“Right, maid of honor.”

“I’m doing it for you. I trust your reasons are honorable, even though I don’t understand.”

We stared at each other for a long moment until a tear leaked out of Destiny’s eye and made me look away. I felt like crying also, but I exhibited extreme mental fortitude to hold it back.

“What’s down the road for us, Dee?” I asked her after I regained my composure.

“What do you mean?” Destiny asked with wide, serious eyes.

“I mean, somehow you and me ended up finding a new life at the same church in Iowa when neither of us is from this beautiful, corny state. But I assume we are going to continue as church mates. Especially after we’re baptized, we’ll be brother and sister in Christ.”

“You know,” Destiny said as she smiled with affection. “From my side of things, I do have romantic feelings for you. But as soon as you say I do with Nora, reality will set in and I will begin to retreat from my crush, hoping that we become great friends. Because I know as far as friends go, you will be as quality as they come.”

I knew for sure right then that I truly loved Destiny Knight. But former adult entertainer that she might be, I simply wasn’t good enough for her. My violent past was just too twisted. What I didn’t tell her was that I didn’t really believe in coincidences, especially the kind that she and I were experiencing. We came together in this big world for a reason. I also believed it went beyond me helping her with Malcolm Reed and Jezebel Black.

“I feel the same about you,” I replied, forcing a smile.

Then Nora sauntered into the room wearing the silky, purple robe I brought her just moments ago, but she did nothing to secure it around her body.

“Hi, kids,” Nora said with phony cheerfulness. “I hope I’m not interrupting a special moment.”

I stood, grabbed the lapels of her rode, and closed it over her. When I took hold of the silky belt and attempted to secure the robe to her body, she hooked a foot behind my ankle and I dropped to the floor. On my way down, I grabbed Nora behind the knee, causing her to fall partially on top of me. I took advantage of her awkward position and put her in a choke hold. She quickly tapped out and I released her, helping her up.

“Now you’ve seen firsthand why Nora and I are suited for each other,” I told Destiny, as I was still on guard for a further attack from Nora Medora.

“I guess so,” Destiny said with a nervous giggle.

“You don’t normally get quite that rough with me, Storm,” Nora said with a smirk. “What gives? Trying to impress the little damsel here?”

“More like I’m getting tired of your orneriness,” I replied. “I’m taking a shower and going to bed,” I told the two ladies.

“There’s not much hot water left,” Nora said.

“That’s just fine,” I replied. “Goodnight, Dee.”

“Goodnight, Brock,” she answered.

“Good night, Medora,” I said.

“Good night, Storm,” Nora replied, right before I kissed her lips.

I pulled away from Nora’s face, but she hooked a hand around my neck and pulled our mouths back together, aggressively deepening the kiss. When I pulled away, I glanced at Destiny who was looking the other way with an uncomfortable expression on her face. My life here in the Corn Belt had been so peaceful until these two strange, intriguing women showed up.

CHAPTER 10

BROCK STORM

            I was dreaming of holding Destiny in my arms. She didn’t fit quite right, and when I tried to kiss her forehead, my lips didn’t quite make contact. Also, I couldn’t smell the lilac scent of her shampoo. Then Jezebel suddenly appeared wearing a devilish grin. I awoke with start.

            I tossed aside the pillow I had been clutching to my chest. No wonder it didn’t feel like Destiny had the previous day. She had fit so well as we molded together. I was comforting her, but I in turn felt comforted. It felt like I was what? Home?

            So why was I going to marry Nora? Because I had to. Marry Nora, or go to prison. For she knew I had been a vigilante serial killer. I made myself think of Nora as I meandered to the bathroom. It wasn’t right to be feeling desire for another woman besides my fiancée.

Yet when I spied Destiny’s bottle of lilac scented shampoo, I couldn’t help flipping back the top and sniffing. Although a pleasing fragrance, it was more alluring mixed with the scent of Destiny herself.

I had borrowed Bentley Bonnano’s pickup truck to move Destiny’s bed as well as a small dresser to my acreage in the country. I also borrowed Bent himself. Bent, Destiny and myself were quite cozy crammed into the cab of the pickup. Destiny was pressed extra close to me, I suppose in an effort to distance herself from Bent. It was both tantalizing and frustrating.

After moving some of Destiny’s things, we went to buy a twin bed for Nora to sleep on. She was due to arrive sometime that evening. Nora had shown her superiors proof that Malcolm Reed intended to do Destiny and or me harm. So they assigned her to watch Destiny for at least three days.

With everything in place, Destiny and I retired to the back porch with big glasses of raspberry flavored iced tea to watch the sunset. Destiny had changed from a knee length sundress into a light pink t-shirt and black gym shorts. We sat side by side on the porch swing.

“It’s so peaceful here,” Destiny said as she stretched her fantastic legs out in front of her.

I tried not to look at the spectacular flesh of the lower half of her body. I was days away from marrying another woman. Why was I so keenly aware of Destiny’s exquisite beauty? The strange thing I was trying to understand was the differences between the two women. Nora was an absolute knockout. But she was hard, cold, and controlling. But with Destiny, something like light radiated from her personality. It gave her a wholesome beauty I couldn’t get my mind around. Was it just because she because she was a former porn star that this unsettled me? Was I being judgmental?

“I love it here,” I managed to say without stammering as I eyed her wiggling toes, the nails of which were painted light pink.

“It’s so cool how you can watch the sunset from here and the sunrise from the other end of the porch,” Destiny declared.

“It is,” I agreed as I subtly inspected the arch of her foot and the curve at her ankle.

“This raspberry tea is fantastic, ” Destiny said before she took a long pull and sighed with satisfaction.

“Thank Bent. He made it,” I told her.

“I will,” she said with a contented grin. “By the way, where is he?”

“I think he was setting up his tent in the woods.”

“Setting up a tent in the woods? Why?”

“To keep guard for intruders,” I replied. “He’ll be in a spot where it will be impossible to sneak in here without him noticing. Unless they go through about a mile of thick corn.”

“I feel bad that he’s gonna sleep in the woods to protect me,” Destiny said with a frown.

“No need to feel bad,” I told her. “Bent’s excited to have a reason to camp.”

“Really?” she asked, turning her head to look toward the woods.

“Really,” I assured her, taking advantage of her turned head so I could stare at her luscious calves and perfect knees. Then, feeling guilty, I pinched my eyes closed and looked away. Oh the human condition!

“That’s good to know,” she said before she downed the rest of her beverage. “I’m gonna get some more of this delicious tea.”

I took a sip of my tea and had to agree that it was quite tasty. The lustful inclinations I was battling was about to cause a bodyguarding blunder. I should have been praying for strength, not trying to sneak peaks of flesh.

I watched the sun start to disappear below the horizon and sat in awe of the color show of bright lavender, pink and orange along with darker shades of blue. All of this amongst sparse cumulous clouds that highlighted the colors. I marveled at how calm Destiny seemed. Did she not realize she could be in imminent danger? I needed to make sure she was aware.

“Say, Dee,” I began when she returned through the back door. “You seem pretty at ease for someone that has a probable hit out on them.”

She sat back down and tucked one of her legs under the other. Was it my imagination, or did she sit closer to me?

“I’m in good hands,” she said, shrugging and giving my knee a little pat. “Besides, I gathered from what Mary Gold said that if I stick with you, I’ll be fine. I intend to do just that. Unless you end up telling me to get lost or something.”

“Not a chance,” I reassured her, peaking at her thigh.

“Plus, last night I had a good little prayer session,” she told me. “I had terrible anxiety. Not only because I had been stalked and there was a threat of an attack, but my little tranquil world of hanging with my aunt and church family had been disrupted. As I prayed and flipped through scriptures, I came to first John chapter 4.”

“Let me guess,” I interrupted. “There is no fear in love.”

“Yes!” Destiny’s bright countenance increased yet another watt, which I didn’t think was possible. “Sin has a large element of fear coupled with it. When we seek God and walk in the Spirit, we have eternal confidence and peace in God. When we pursue carnal desires, whether that is fleshly sex lusts, wealth, power, prestige, or drunkenness, we walk in darkness and at the bottom of it all is fear.”

“I completely concur,” I said, feeling guilty about my lustful inspection of her legs.

“The thing I find the most mindboggling was just how wrapped up I was with all of the sinful characteristics I just mentioned. Obviously, being in porn was a major sexual dysfunction. But I was in it for the money, power, and even the circumstantial prestige that it brought. Then I indulged in heavy amounts of pot and alcohol to numb my conscience. I used speed and cocaine to get myself up for stripping. When Sophie and I got out of the sex trade and moved back to the Midwest, we both tried to quit smoking pot and drinking.

“I actually became very depressed. I had been self-medicating for years and didn’t even fully realize it. So I wasn’t very successful. But Sophie was. She started exercising and reading spiritual books. I think my addictions were just as much to blame for our breakup as was her religious convictions.”

“But now you’re clean, right?”

“I am,” she said happily as she took another sip of tea. “I’m not gonna say I haven’t been tempted, especially with this ongoing ordeal. But prayer and Bible study have given me strength. Not just from chemical abuse, but all of my sins. Sex, pride, the love of money.”

“It’s interesting,” I said. “You left out the sin that has plagued me the most heavily.”

“What’s that?”

“Violence.”

“God can forgive anything Brock,” Destiny said smiling and pronouncing ‘anything’ slowly to emphasize her statement.

I smiled back and drained the rest of my tea, smacking my lips. Destiny probably thought by violence that I was talking about roughing up guys as a bouncer. My heart rate increased as I considered telling Destiny the whole bloody story.

“I’m gonna get some more tea,” I said, rising.

“Would you mind getting me some more?” Destiny said with a little giggle as she offered me her empty glass.

“Wow, you’re really thirsty,” I said as I took her glass.

I weighed the risks of telling Destiny about my violent past as I refreshed our beverages. She likely would be appalled and no longer want to be friends. Yet I longed to confess my dark sins to a fellow brother or sister in Christ before I was baptized. Who better than someone who also had an exceptionally dark, albeit different, past?

  I felt a little lightheaded as I walked back to the porch, yet very content and open. I handed Destiny her tea and opened my mouth to ask her if she could keep a secret. I noticed that she frowned as her hands wiggled in her shorts pockets.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know where my phone is,” she replied.

“It’s on the kitchen table.”

“I better see if I have any messages,” Destiny declared as she sat her glass of tea on the porch floor and left for the kitchen.

When she returned a half minute later, she stumbled and twisted her ankle coming out of the door. She clutched at the door handle to keep from falling and winced in pain. Then she hobbled quickly in a few circles in an attempt to walk it off, saying ‘ouch’ several times. Then she sat down hard next to me.

Without thinking, I pulled her leg onto my lap and began rubbing first her ankle and then her foot.

“Mmm, that feels good,” she purred.

“Tell me what you think of Nora,” I blurted, trying to divert our attention from this seemingly innocent, but somehow intimate, act I was performing.

“I don’t really know her,” she said with shrug.

“I know, but what do you think of her from what you do know? Your first impression?”

“She’s all right,” she said, shrugging again.

“She’s all right,” I laughed. “You might as well say you don’t like her.”

“Well, what am I supposed to say?” she asked, slurring the word ‘supposed’ for some reason. Then giggling.

“I want you to be honest with me,” I told her.

“Do you?” she replied with a sultry smile that puzzled me. She winked. Then she took a long pull on her iced tea.

“I do.”

“Okay,” she said and sighed with a strange heaviness. “Are you sure you want the truth?”

“Absolutely.”

“What if you can’t handle the truth?”

“Trust me. I can handle the truth,” I promised her.

“You can’t handle the truth,” she said in a deep voice trying to imitate Jack Nicholson from the movie “A Few Good Men.” Then she giggled some more, and I frowned. Destiny was loopy; she must be getting tired, I thought. She took another long drink of tea, almost draining the entire large glass. That would be her third. With all of that caffeine, how could she be getting tired?

“Seriously, Dee, I want you to be honest.”

“You really want me to be honest?” she asked, bungling the word ‘honest’ this time.

“I do.”

All merriment left her face. She looked at me with misty eyes for a long moment before she spoke.

“I love you,” she said so quietly that I didn’t know if I heard her right.

“Huh?” I replied dumbly.

“Ever since you saved me from being raped,” she began. “The moments afterward were the most precious moments I ever spent with a man. Maybe it was because I was so terrified, but being wrapped in your arms, I felt so incredibly safe. Then when you told me I got you … oh, my!”

Destiny put her hands to her face and began to quietly sob. I was stunned, absolutely dumbfounded. I gently removed her leg from my lap, slid up close to her, and draped an arm awkwardly around her shoulder.

“Dee, it’s okay,” I stammered and she settled down. She nestled her head into the crook of my neck. My arm relaxed around her and I gently pulled her into me. She folded her arms in front of her.

“That sounded weird,” she declared as she stretched her legs out in front of her. Half of me wished she wouldn’t have, and the other half was transfixed with the sight.

“Well, it wasn’t what I was expecting,” I admitted. “But not weird.”

I marveled at how well we fit together, with her leaning into me and me wrapping her gently into myself.

“It’s just,” she croaked. “In the time after that horrible night, I began to fantasize about you and me. I even changed your gentle words in my ear from ‘I got you’ to ‘I love you’ when I daydreamed. But you and I didn’t really know each other, so I know it was me being silly. But now that I am getting to know you all these years later, the reality of you is even better than my fantasy.”

“How can that be?” I mumbled, knowing that she didn’t know what a ruthless killer I was. Plus, she was kind of garbling most of her words. Was I even hearing her right? Destiny leaned up and looked into my face with searching eyes. She put her hands softly onto my cheeks.

“Guys like you are usually arrogant and cocky,” she told me, her face only a few inches from mine. Her warm breath was sensual and warm on my skin, but smelled like… Was it alcohol?

 “But you are so gentle and sweet for a big muscle stud,” she continued. “I assumed that  night it was just the circumstances that made you so caring and gentle. Now I know that it is really who you are.”

“Dee, I … you don’t really know me as well as you might think.”

“Oh, I’m so embarrassed,” she blubbered as she abruptly pushed away from me and stood.

“No, Dee, don’t be,” I insisted, grabbing onto her hand.

 Just as she stood, a blood curdling scream erupted right in front of us and a hideous, monstrous face loomed up from the front of the porch. Destiny flung herself into me as I began to rise. The porch swing we had been sitting on swiveled and bounced from the two chains that hung from the big wooden awning. When our bodies collided, we both toppled over backwards onto the floor, and thankfully she landed on top of me instead of the other way around. I was about to shove her off of me and spring into action when I saw that the monster was actually Bent.

“You idiot!” I barked. “What was that?”

“Sorry, guys,” Bent said with hound dog eyes. He held a hideous Halloween mask of an ogre creature in his hand.  “Just a little joke.”

“Given our situation, it was in very poor taste,” I told him.

I was already kicking myself for not being prepared. How could Bent playing a little prank make me end up toppled over backwards on a porch spring with the woman I was supposed to be protecting? Man, I was more than rusty! Yet when I looked at Destiny, she was staring at me with a stricken expression. Our faces were only inches apart with our limbs tangled. It was then I noticed something warm and wet on my thigh. Was it blood?  Was Destiny hurt?

CHAPTER 9

DESTINY

“Well, hello, precious.” A creepy, somewhat familiar voice said as it emerged next to me as I picked up a few things at the grocery store. “Long time no see.”

My heart leapt from my chest when I saw that it came from Jezebel Black, the woman who led Malcolm Reed to my apartment the night he tried to rape me. She was wearing a long, flowing, black dress that had an abundance of lace. Along with black lipstick, she looked very much like the witch that she was.

“What do you want?” I asked, looking around nervously for Reed to join her.

“An old friend of yours wanted me to look you up,” she said in her seductive, malicious voice. “He got out of prison recently and was hoping you two could hang sometime.”

My blood chilled at her words. My skin crawled at her dark, inhuman eyes, as her black lips curled into a sinister smile.

“Get away from me,” I told her as I briskly walked away.

Jezebel followed me and watched me check out from a distance. I went to the food court area, and with trembling fingers, I called Brock. I relaxed a little bit when I heard his steady, calm voice in my ear. He told me to stay put until he got there. It felt like days, but seventeen minutes later, I received a text message from Brock. He told me that he could see both of us. He instructed me to leave the store, take a right, walk to the end of the building, and then take another right. Jezebel followed me out of the store. When I made a right turn at the end of the building, I anticipated seeing Brock. He wasn’t there! I spun around and saw Jezebel walking toward me with that sinister grin plastered on her face.

 For a second, panic began to surge, but Brock rounded the corner right behind her and I smiled with relief. Jezebel’s imposing presence was dwarfed with Brock behind her. His muscular chest looked like it might rip through the charcoal T-shirt he wore.

“Oh, are you gonna take me on, missy?” Jezebel drawled with her crazy, black eyes glued on me. “You’re getting a little big for your britches, aren’t you?”

“Um, not really,” I said, looking over her shoulder and trying not to shake, despite Brock’s presence. Jezebel spun around and noticeably jerked when she saw Brock.

“You!” she spat in accusation. Her eyes grew wide. “What are you doing here? Malcolm said you live Miami.”

“Why are following Destiny?” Brock demanded. “Did Malcolm put you up to this?”

Jezebel seemed to relax, and her sinister grin returned with even more malice.

“Oh, he’s gonna love this,” she drawled. “He didn’t think he could put a hit on you in Miami, but here …”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Brock said. “Now I know to be prepared even more than I already was.”

“Malcolm’s paying me for information,” Jezebel said with a shrug, “and to put a little scare into your girlfriend here. I have no loyalty to him. But she can’t be your girlfriend, can she? No, she likes to do the nasty with other cute, little ladies.”

“Just so you know Jezebel, I’m a Christian now,” I told her as her head snapped toward me.

Something came over me right then with my fear seeming to dissipate. Strangely, I became aware of Jezebel being in bondage to evil and I felt a surge of love for her, or at least for her lost soul.

“I’ve given my life to Jesus Christ,” I told her with a gentle voice as I took a step toward her. “You should do the same, Lydia.”

Her face looked shocked for a second. Then that inhumane countenance came back into her black eyes at full force.

“How do you know my given name, whore?” she spat.

“I don’t know,” I replied meekly. “It just came to me.”

She backed away a couple of steps and looked almost frightened. Then she composed herself as she began a tirade. I actually felt concerned for her when I considered that she was very likely demon possessed. Oh what the love of Jesus can do for our hearts. I had never felt love for an “enemy” before.

“You can never do for your new master what you’ve already done for mine,” she said with a vicious sneer. “You and your dirty dozen will always be on the web, tantalizing thousands of sex enslaved men, no matter how sickeningly saintly you have become. Your dirty deeds will be easily accessible with the stroke of a few computer keys. The powers of darkness are gonna rain down on you for betraying them.”

“I never embraced any powers of darkness,” I told her. “True, I lived in deep sin, but I did it for worldly gain, not because I followed any powers of darkness on purpose. I didn’t even fully believe in a God or a devil until a month or two ago.”

Your intent doesn’t matter,” Jezebel said. “The fact is your actions served the god of this world a thousand times more than you can ever do for your new master. That’s why darkness will win; it’s infinitely more powerful.”

“Wrong,” Brock declared. “The gospel of Christ is the power of God unto salvation.”

“You two are disgusting,” Jezebel said as she slowly backed away from us. “You’ll get your just due.”

Then she turned and walked briskly away from us. I fought back tears as a whole range of emotions circulated in my brain. Fear began to creep back into me as I realized the dark forces hated me and wanted to destroy me. Jezebel was right about at least one thing. I could never undo my porn career.

Provocative videos and pictures of me could be accessed around the world forever. I could never repay my sinful debt, but what human being can? That’s why we desperately need Jesus. He alone is the way, the truth, and the life. He is the only escape from this diabolical world. And it starts here! The kingdom of God is within you!

“Are you okay?” Brock asked tenderly as he stepped toward me.

Although we will be assailed by evil in this world, we are not alone. I don’t just mean God is always with us, either, which of course He is. But He puts people in our lives that love and protect us. I threw myself into one of them right then, wrapping my arms tightly around him and clutching him securely. His arms enfolded around me.

“You need to stay with me until this is over,” Brock insisted. “And I mean don’t leave my house, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled into his chest.

“It’s gonna be alright, Dee. The way I understand Mary Gold’s dream, if we stick together, you’ll be safe and we come out the victors.”

I began to cry and clung a little tighter to Brock. I marveled at how well our bodies fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle. There also was another element that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I don’t how to describe it other than to say he felt like home.

Then I realized he was marrying another woman in a couple of days, and I was to be her maid of honor, no less. Disappointment caused my emotions to shift gears, and I began to sob from a sense of loss or something akin to it.

“Easy, Dee, I got you,” Brock said just inches from my ear. He assumed my fragile emotion were just from the situation at hand

This was not a fantasy – this was real. I pulled my face from the crook of his neck and looked at him. I never wanted to kiss another human being more in my life. But Brock belonged to another woman. A look of confusion came across his countenance, and I returned my face to the crook of his neck.

What Brock did next sent a jolt of electricity through my entire being. It was both exhilarating and comforting, but only added to my confusion. He squeezed me a little tighter and very tenderly he kissed the top of my forehead, letting it linger a little longer than someone who was just a friend should have.

“I got you,” he told me one more time as I melted into him.

I sardonically thought to myself, that Brock rescuing me, holding me afterward, and saying ‘I got you,’ was a once in a decade occurrence. Maybe next time it wouldn’t be ten years, and maybe next time his words would be, ‘I love you.’

EVIL MEETS IN MINNEAPOLIS

It was a dark, stormy night in Minneapolis. In the underbelly of a seedy downtown bar, two sinister humans met in a dank office. Malcolm Reed sat behind a desk, his cigar smoke swirling in the light emanating from the desk lamp. Jezebel Black stood in front of Malcolm’s desk and lit a cigarette.

“Have a seat,” Malcolm offered, waving a hand at a sofa with dark red leather upholstery.

Jezebel eyed the red leather couch with disgust. “I’ll stand,” she said. “I heard you’ve had a revolving door of gals since you’ve gotten out of prison. I don’t want to get any residue on my new dress.” Jezebel waved a hand over her flowing, black lace dress, which almost could be considered her uniform.

A low rumble emanated from Malcolm’s barrel chest. His shaved head seemed to glow in the lamp light, and his pointy goatee gave him a devilish appearance as he laughed.

“New dress?” he drawled. “Could have fooled me. And yeah, it true that I been making up for lost time with the ladies. I’ll even give you a turn on the couch if you want.”

“No, thanks, you’re not my type,” Jezebel replied.

“Why, cause I’m not a satanic high priest?”

“No, you’re more evil.”

The rumble from Malcolm’s barrel chest seemed to echo off the walls. “There be no such thing as good and evil. We just be dogs scrappin’ in this life.”

“Oh, if you only knew,” Jezebel said with a malicious grin. “And you of all people should know.”

Malcolm frowned and waved a dismissive hand. Then he opened a desk drawer, retrieved an envelope, and handed it to Jezebel. She pulled out the cash and counted.

“Don’t trust me?” Malcolm wanted to know.

“About as far as I can throw you,” Jezebel replied.

Malcolm laughed again. “Actually, I gave you a little bonus,” Malcolm drawled. “I just wanted you to put a scare into Destiny Knight before I have her offed, and you done found me Storm. Now I be puttin’ a hit on him, too.”

“Anything else you need?” Jezebel asked.

“I think I’m good. Thank you for your services.”

“When are the hits going down?” Jezebel wanted to know.

“Was gonna send my guy today,” Malcolm said. “Now that Storm’s in the picture, gonna need another hired gun, maybe two. Gotta give Storm his due; he pretty good.”

“I’ll say,” Jezebel purred, recalling how Brock’s hard muscles filled out his tight T-shirt. But she knew that wasn’t what Malcolm was talking about. But Storm was one guy she might prefer over her smoking hot girlfriend. Nora was something else! If it hadn’t been for her, she never would have been able to play murder broker with Malcom Reed. It was Nora who had told her how to find Destiny.

“Piece of advice,” Malcolm said. “I’d stay outta the way when this go down.”

“Trust me. I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

“You’re a pretty good manipulator, though.”

“Guilty,” Jezebel said with a cocky smirk. “I do like violence from a safe distance. Well, now that our business is done, I’m gonna get out of this classy joint.”

“Go on and get then,” Malcolm said with a wave of his hand. “Go do whatever it is you satanic high priestesses do.”

Jezebel sauntered to the door, turned, and gave Malcolm a sinister salute.

“See ya around, big fella,” Jezebel said. “I’m gonna get back home now and put some curses on people.”

Malcolm grinned at Jezebel and shook his head as he looked at something on his desk. When he heard the door click shut, he looked at it and frowned. Although he scoffed at anything spiritual or supernatural, there was just something diabolically off with Jezebel. It was her eyes that gave her otherwise pretty face a feral demeanor.

The next day, Jezebel was back home in her old gothic house outside of Des Moines. She was on the phone with her girlfriend Nora Medora. They were discussing her trip to Minnesota and Malcolm’s intent on sending a hit on both Destiny and Brock.

Nora’s grip on her phone tightened at the mention of Brock. What if he found out about her involvement with Jezebel, and ultimately, Malcom Reed? What if Jezebel found out she genuinely loved Brock? She had led her to believe agreeing to marrying him was just a ploy. What would happen if the marriage actually happened? But that’s why success often involved risk.

Jezebel and Nora met not long after Nora moved to Des Moines from Miami. Nora had come to the Midwest to become an investigator with the Iowa Department of Criminal Investigation. Jezebel was an informant for the IDCI and considered an expert on the occult.

Nora had driven to Jezebel’s home to discuss a case, and the two women hit it off immediately. Jezebel found Nora’s intense and aggressive nature attractive. Nora found Jezebel’s charm, charisma, and knowledge appealing. She was also aware of her connection to Brock, Destiny, Malcom Reed, and the attempted rape.

Nora listened attentively as Jezebel explained her philosophies. Jezebel had explained that Christianity embraced weakness, surrender, and denial of self. In contrast, the occult emphasized power, control, and a love of life with a zest for all carnal pleasures. Jezebel claimed that pursuing the unfairly labeled dark powers could do more in fulfilling one’s earthly desires. The term ‘selling the soul’ flickered across Nora’s mind.

So the two women became close fast. Jezebel soon found out that Nora was more interested in her career than the letter of the law. She could use a corrupt cop! And Nora could use Jezebel’s criminal activities to bring down worse criminals, and thereby secure a possible, even likely, promotion for herself.

Nora only needed to convince Jezebel that she was genuine. This was the riskiest situation she had ever been in for work. If Jezebel discovered she was being fake, there could be dire consequences. The first and biggest test would be how she handled becoming Jezebel’s lover. Could she pull this off?

Nora had always been bicurious, but not enough that she ever thought she would act on it. Fortunately, Jezebel was quite attractive, and she found their intimate activities rather enjoyable. There was something magical in doing something she had always considered forbidden. But why forbidden? Nora wasn’t religious. Was it society? Was it because she saw Jezebel as evil? Was it a demon giving her sexual thrills? No, she didn’t believe in devils. To her, people were devils. She did believe in a higher power though, and that was what drove her to do her job. The end justified the means, she told herself over and over.

A few days prior to Jezebel’s trip to see Malcolm, Nora was initiated as a full-fledged member into Jezebel’s satanic cult and witches’ coven. When Nora willingly participated as the main subject of a ritual, Jezebel was convinced that she could trust her completely. When Nora disrobed in front of the group and submitted to being securely shackled to an altar, it also proved to Jezebel that Nora trusted her. But she underestimated Nora’s determination.

“I will be staying with Brock and Destiny,” Nora explained to Jezebel over the phone. “I will be sharing a room with Destiny to guard her. Can you let the guys putting on the hit know that I will leave the window unlocked, as wells as instructions on how to get in it? Also, how they can find Brock?”

“I certainly can,” Jezebel cooed. “I see now what a smart move it was to agree to marry Storm.”

Nora hung up the phone with mixed feelings. She truly loved Brock, didn’t she? She chewed her lip, uneasy at putting Brock at risk. He was the best of the best, but how would he fair being set up? She would have to somehow have his back. But what if it went down too fast, and with too many gunning for Destiny and Brock?

Oh well, if he ended up a casualty, at least she wouldn’t have to get married. Anyway, this was for a higher purpose. This was the best way, the only way to achieve the results she wanted.

CHAPTER 8

NORA MEDORA DRIVING HOME

The corners of Nora’s mouth curled into a sly smile as she recalled Destiny’s surprised expression after she asked her to be her maid of honor. Then she full on grinned remembering Destiny’s shocked expression after she not only kissed her cheek, but gave it a quick lick.

Nora loved to play head games. But sometimes they messed with her own head as well. Destiny and Brock were a case in point. She disliked Destiny for the simple reason that Brock was fond of Destiny. She also knew way more than she let on about the pair’s association with each other.

She had already known that Brock had saved her life. She had also known that he followed her via the internet for years. Brock wasn’t really into porn before becoming a Christian, but he sure kept up with Destiny’s work. Not that you could call porn work or art. It was adult entertainment, period.

She felt a wave of anxiety at the thought of marrying Brock. Did she love him? She didn’t see herself capable of loving anyone or anything apart from her calling to rid the world of evil. Yes, she believed in a higher power, just not the God of the Bible that Brock adhered to. This two thousand year old book that was now interfering with the nice arrangement she had.

Years of intimate stimulation with him made her confused regarding the only man she had ever had a personal relationship with. Why did he have to change? What was wrong with their friends with benefits arrangement? Most guys would love to have a hot lady whose primary interest was sexual. No flowers, no cards, no gifts of jewelry.

She had no romantic expectations. Just two things she wanted. There was little hunting games and sex. She did like their occasional shop talk, yet she realized it was usually her expounding about work, and rarely, if ever, Brock. She hated the fact that she wanted him so badly. She also hated that she was losing control over him.

She grimaced as she realized that she had likely coerced Brock into bed for the last time without the bonds of matrimony. She knew if he was baptized, she wouldn’t be in the sack with him again until they were… She swallowed a lump in her throat… Married!

But this Jezebel Black thing might, at least, postpone their nuptials. She felt a twinge of guilt. For it was her doings that sent Jezebel on the war path. Months previously, she had discovered Jezebel was living in Des Moines. She had relocated there a few years earlier because the satanic cult she belonged to was based there.

Nora had discovered the cult was suspected to be involved in numerous illegal activities. Mainly drugs in a partnership with an outlaw motorcycle gang, as well as street gangs from Chicago, Kansas City, and the Twin Cities. Nora had talked her superiors into going undercover and joining the cult. It wasn’t easy.

But Jezebel preferred women to men when it came to intimacy. Nora had never actually had sex when going undercover before. Not even as a vice detective in Miami. But this case was a huge, international drug running and distribution. The fastest way to infiltrate the cult and to save lives was to become Jezebel’s lover. She had broken a personal rule by doing so.

How would Brock react if he found out she was responsible for putting Destiny and him in harm’s way? But wasn’t she herself in greater danger? What would Brock think if he knew she had not only joined Jezebel’s cult, but she had become her lover? She drew in a deep breath, sighed heavily, and then nodded with satisfaction as she thought to herself about her first duty, her job. The end justifies the means was her golden rule.

BROCK

“Would you marry Nora and me?” I asked Captain Kirk.

He arose from the flower bed that he had been weeding at the church. Captain Kirk preferred it to be called the fellowship barn, though. The original members of Cotton Creek Cove began at a small church building in downtown Cedar Rapids. When they began to outgrow the facility in the early 1990s, Captain Kirk and a few elder members renovated a barn into a church out in the country a few miles west of the city. Captain Kirk made an old-fashioned sign out of old barn boards with the name of the new facility, Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship Barn. Those five words were followed by Matthew 18:20.

Captain Kirk regarded me with intense blue eyes hooded by a thick white brow. Those eyes had gazed upon countless tormented souls that he ministered to as a young army chaplain during Vietnam as well as the war’s aftermath. He stroked his long, white beard and not for the first time reminded me of a biblical patriarch, like Moses or Noah.

“Is Miss Medora a believer?” Captain Kirk wanted to know as he brushed dark speckles of dirt from his long, white beard.

I cleared my throat. “No, sir. Not like us, anyway.”

“You know the Bible instructs us to not be yoked to non-believers,” he petitioned.

“I do,” I replied. “Here’s the thing, though. She and I have been together for six years. In our own way, we are sort of common law married already, although we have never actually lived together. In a nutshell, I told her that I became a Christian and we either needed to end our intimate relationship or get married. She then agreed to marry me.”

“Fair enough. Out of respect for you and your judgment, I’ll marry you,” Captain Kirk said as he nodded. “When?”

“How about Sabbath afternoon?” I inquired.

His furry, white caterpillar eyebrows shot up and I chuckled inwardly.

“Well, you’re certainly not wasting any time,” Captain Kirk said, stroking his beard again. “That’s only three days away. You’re not trying to get it over with before you get cold feet, are you?”

“No,” I replied, feeling a little embarrassed by what I was about to share with my pastor. “You know how the apostle Paul suggested that if we couldn’t be celibate, we should marry?”

“So you don’t think you can contain?” Captain Kirk asked with a sly grin.

I cleared my throat again. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Can I make one suggestion?” Pastor asked. “Have you considered Destiny?”

“Oh, I’ve considered her, Sir.”

“And?”

“Well, like I was trying to say. Nora and I are already in a sort of committed relationship. Plus we both have our dangerous occupational backgrounds in common.”

“And you and Dee have spiritual interests in common,” he replied.

“Besides Nora not being a Sabbath keeping Christian, you just plain don’t like her.”

“I don’t,” Captain Kirk, never one to gloss over truth admitted. “Look, call it woman’s intuition.”

“Excuse me?” I replied with raised eyebrows.

Captain Kirk chuckled. “The Mrs. actually has even stronger reservations about you two than I do.”

I sighed and crossed my arms. Was I making a wise decision marrying Nora?

“Look, just make sure you’re not doing anything hasty,” The good Captain and Pastor instructed as he touched my arm. “And don’t let your loins help make your decision.”

“But that’s a part of it. Why even get married if sex isn’t involved?”

“My point is the rest should be in harmony. Compatibility, communication, love. Sex is the icing on the cake, so to speak.”

I nodded. “Thanks Pastor. You will marry us though?”

“If that’s your wish.”

I helped the pastor weed the flower beds. Then he mowed while I weed whipped. I’ve found that manual labor can be therapeutic. My mind kept going over Mary Gold’s dream and Destiny’s situation. If Mary Gold said that the angelic being told Destiny to seek my protection, I needed to protect her. I shouldn’t even be helping the Pastor here until I knew more of what’s going on.

Another big concern was actually the harmony between my future wife, and my what? What was Destiny to me? My friend? Sister in Christ? Although Nora suggested it herself, Destiny living temporarily in my house was not going to sit well with my fiancée.

When I finished helping Captain Kirk maintain the church landscape, I retired to my car and retrieved my cell phone. I prepared to call the Weston household when I noticed a missed call from not quite ten minutes earlier. It was from Jake Weston, Mary Gold’s husband.

“Brock, how you doing?” Jake asked when I returned his call.

“Not bad, you?”

“Can’t complain.”

“Funny you should call,” I told him. “I was about to call your wife to see if she could talk to me about the dream she had regarding Destiny.”

“Funny once again,” Jake chuckled uneasily. “I was calling you to let you know that Mary had another dream about Destiny… And you.”

“Really, when?”

“This afternoon,” Jake replied. “Here’s the thing, Brock. Mary rarely naps. And even rarer still, she seldom has a second, for lack of a better word, prophetic dream. About the same person, that is.”

“Do you mind if I come over?”

“Of course not. I was hoping you could.”

Twenty minutes later I pulled into the Weston’s twelve-acre hobby farm. I was greeted by their old, but still feisty and playful, German Shepherd named Sassy. Jake came out of their modest ranch house still wearing his brown UPS uniform. He was followed by his lovely wife, Mary Gold. She was wearing faded blue jeans tucked into worn, brown cowboy boots and a pink T-shirt that said “Life is Good” in light blue lettering. Jake shook my hand and Mary Gold gave me a quick hug. They offered me a beverage, and I requested water. Jake suggested that we go sit on the deck.

“It was really weird,” Mary Gold told me. “The only time I ever nap is if some type of emergency or urgent matter has kept me up through the night. So I went for a little horseback ride this afternoon and felt great, full of energy. When I got done, I read some scripture and prayed. I prayed specifically for Destiny and her wellbeing, and for you, too, Brock. When I finished, I was overcome by a powerful weariness. I tried to fight it. But I just couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I lay down in the hammock.”

“I love to nap myself,” Jake said, as if to explain why they have a hammock when Mary Gold acknowledged that she rarely naps.

“I had a dream again that Destiny was in trouble. Have I ever told you about the dreams where I’m visited by an angelic being named Mayquinn?”

“Yes, you’ve told me,” I replied. “Destiny mentioned it the other night, too.”

“Well, he was in my dream this afternoon with another message,” Mary Gold said, shrugging meekly. “The majestic presence mentioned you by name this time. I was told you are to keep Destiny with constant diligence, beginning before the sky darkens into an inky black she-devil. You are to watch Destiny until the reed is broken. One more thing. Beware of the husband slayer, even though she’s necessary to break the reed.”

“So it seems that there are three parts,” Jake said. “Diligently watching Destiny is obviously one.”

“Malcom Reed would be two,” Mary Gold said. “But what could husband slayer possibly mean?”

“I can answer that,” I said, feeling my lips curl into an icy smile. “Nora Medora.”

“Your lady friend?” Mary Gold asked.

“Actually, fiancée,” I replied.

“What? When?” Jake demanded. “And you didn’t tell us?”

“It came about the other day. This is the first I’ve seen you guys since.”

“So, when’s the big day?” Mary Gold asked with a pleasant, yet concerned, smile.

“Well, we’re partially eloping,” I told them. “Just a small affair. As a matter of fact, I went to see Captain Kirk before I came here to see if he would do us the honor of presiding over our nuptials.”

“Enough with the fancy words, big fella. When?” Jake wanted to know.

“This Saturday afternoon,” I replied.

“What?” Jake yelled, shooting off of his chair like it was an ejection seat on a jet fighter. “This Sabbath?”

“By the way, would you be my best man?” I asked him.

“I’d be honored,” Jake said, smiling broadly as he took my right hand with both of his. “Congratulations.”

“Is she a believer now?” Mary Gold asked.

“Ah, no, not really,” I replied, scratching the back of my head and wincing.

“I see,” Mary Gold said with concerned eyes.

I told them about the warning Captain Kirk gave me and my explanation.

Mary Gold and Jake both nodded as my phone chimed. It was Destiny.

“Brock, I’m really freaked out!” Destiny blurted when I had barely begun to greet her.

“What’s up? Where are you?” I asked as my body seemed to go rigid with electric current.

“I’m at a grocery store, and I’m being stalked by Jezebel Black,” she replied shakily.

“What is Jezebel doing in Cedar Rapids?” I muttered.

“She said an old friend of mine wanted her to look me up. Apparently she lives somewhere close.”

“You talked to her?”

“She came up and talked to me when I was comparing apples.”

“Where are you now?”

“Still at Hy Vee in the food court area.”

“Where’s Jezebel?”

“Across the entrance, having a coffee and watching me.”

“Stay where you are,” I instructed. “I’m at the Weston’s right now, so I’ll be there in fifteen to twenty minutes. Okay?”

“Okay,” she croaked.

“Dee, you’ll be fine. You’re in a very public place. Just stay where you’re at.”

“Okay,” she mustered with a little more confidence.

Mary Gold and Jake were staring at me with worried looks on their faces.

“There’s a fourth element to your dream,” I said. “The inky black she devil is a woman named Jezebel Black. I think she’s setting up Destiny for Malcolm Reed. She’s stalking Destiny at Hy Vee as we speak, so I gotta go.”

“Do you want me to come?” Jake asked.

“Thanks, Jake, but I’ve got this,” I said over my shoulder as I jogged to my Mustang, thankful for Godly, helpful friends.

It had been a year since I had played bodyguard. I prayed I wasn’t too rusty. I thought about calling back to the Weston’s, asking them to pray. Then I realized it wasn’t necessary. The proof came as I left their driveway, spying them kneeling and holding hands on their porch. Their heads were bowed in prayer.

As I drove, I sorted out possible scenarios and the best way to handle the situation at hand with Destiny and her stalker. But as I did, something kept echoing in my head. In my mind I kept hearing Mary Gold’s voice warning, “Beware of the husband slayer!”

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?