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?

CHAPTER 6

BROCK

I just confessed to being a murderer to Destiny! She was stunned, I could see it in her eyes. I was stunned, I could feel it in my body going rigid. Although I was never a spy, my years in high level security had given me some experience with subterfuge. In other words, I had been a professional liar by times. I suppose I borrowed from it now. I aimed a little smile at Destiny. “I should say, I’ve killed in the line duty.”

“I see,” Destiny replied with a smile as her face relaxed.

The duty I spoke of was loyalty to my dead brother. The duty was a personal code I had acted on. I eliminated a guy who was supposed to be a man of God. He had taken advantage of my brother when he was preadolescent. I found out about the man when my sibling was incapacitated with a lingering death.

My act of vengeance on my brother’s behalf had led me down a path of vigilantism. I had researched sex offenders who I had judged got off easy. My employment in high level security gave me access to records beyond internet searches. I became a self-imposed branch of the justice system.

But when I began seeking the Lord, I became convicted that vengeance is God’s, not mine. Regardless of how I viewed the justice system, or lack thereof, I needed to put away my desire to hunt bad guys. I needed to repent of the thrill to kill, and executing judgement. And for the last year I had.

But reuniting with Nora Medora had come back to bite me. She had found out about my illegal activities. As a matter of fact, she had made me aware of her knowledge the previous day. I suppose that’s how I had let down my guard with Destiny, and let that confession of being a killer slip from my lips.

Nora had showed up on my doorstep the day before. She was wearing her usual exercise attire, black spandex shorts a size too small and matching sports bra. Her luscious, light caramel colored skin was slick with sweat. Her dark eyes were intense and angry, but she still wore a sultry smirk. She barged into my house without being invited, but I didn’t try to stop her. To be honest, I felt familiar carnal urges stirring, but I had no intention of acting upon them. I resisted temptation, sort of.

“I know you got my text that I was going for a run this afternoon,” she said coolly.

“And I know I responded by telling you that I wasn’t playing.”

“I thought it was a diversion.”

“It wasn’t.”

“I see,” she said, as if confused. She folded her arms across her chest. “Well, I didn’t drive over one hundred miles just to go for a run.”

We engaged in a stare down for a minute, and then she began to remove her sports bra. My arm shot out to stop her.

“Nora, I told you the other day that we need to stop, um, fornicating.”

“Oh, Brock,” she drawled with a sarcastic voice. “I beg to differ.”

“You beg to differ?” I asked, confused, frustrated, and a little angry.

“You know all those years in Miami when we were just friends with benefits?” she asked using air quotes for ‘friends with benefits.’ “Not once did we actually sleep together. But here in Iowa, because we live a hundred miles apart, and because we are now supposed to be more of a couple, we tend to spend the night with each other. You know, we actually sleep together.”

She used air quotes for sleep. Then she folded her arms and gazed at me like the cat that swallowed the canary. I almost told her I enjoyed it too, but I didn’t want to keep encouraging our habit of fornicating. So I simply shrugged and said, “Okay.”

“Did you know that sometimes you talk in your sleep? You dream about violence sometimes, don’t you, dear?”

A chill ran up my spine and I hoped my expression was neutral. Nora smiled maliciously at me.

“You see, Brock, there’s this possible serial killer on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list. There have been twenty-four men shot to death across the country. They suspect that all twenty-four were executed by the same guy. All of them were rapists and or pedophiles. A few of them were priests, and interestingly enough, the very first of the twenty-four served in your family’s parish for several years. How about that?”

“How about that?” I repeated defiantly, even though my blood pressure spiked. I went into combat mode and refused to be intimidated.

“Yeah,” Nora continued, wearing a sly smile. “So I’ve always kept a little journal. I record daily stuff, everything from my cases to when I get my period. Do you know what else I recorded in my journal?”

I gazed at Nora with what I hoped was a cold, hard stare. She took a step toward me and patted me gently on my cheek.

“I jotted down my buddy’s travels,” she said, but used a crude verb to describe what kind of buddies we were. “Did you know that my buddy was in the same area at the same time for almost all of these murders?”

We had a silent stare down for a long minute.

“My seemingly meaningless habit of jotting down where my boyfriend was traveling sure paid off in the end,” she stated gleefully. “I guess you have two choices. You can either start undressing right now, or we can break up and I’ll go to the FBI with my evidence. What’s it gonna be?”

“It looks like you’ll be going to the FBI with your circumstantial evidence,” I told her as fear gripped my spine.

She took a step back with an astonished look on her countenance and crossed her arms.

“You seriously would rather go to prison than have sex with this?” Nora asked as she waved her hands down and up her stunning body. Then she placed her hands on her hips and stared daggers into me.

“I’m surrendering my life to Christ, Nora,” I said softly. “I can’t fornicate anymore.”

“But you can lie?”

“Of course not.”

“So what are you gonna do when the FBI questions you?” she asked with an exasperated laugh.

“I’ll answer their questions truthfully.”

“And end up in prison.”

“So if you have evidence that I’m a serial killer, you’re willing to cover it up if I continue to have a sexual relationship with you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I know that all twenty-four men murdered were absolute scum who got off much easier than they deserved.”

“You don’t feel unethical blackmailing me?”

“Are you the killer, then?” she asked with a stern look.

I returned the look but remained silent.

“Answer me.”

“No comment.”

“No comment,” she replied, throwing her hands in the air. “Are you kidding me? You may as well have said yes.”

Nora was right. So I might as well set the record straight. Any fear I had was gone and completely replaced with peace. I needed to trust God and let the chips fall where they may.

“Okay,” I told Nora. “Yes, it’s me. But it has been well over a year since I last killed, and I’ve vowed to God to never to kill again. ‘Vengeance is mine,’ says the Lord.”

Nora looked at me with a stunned expression. Her face softened and she smiled sweetly, yet sinisterly.

“You trust me enough to admit this, even though you’re dumping me?” she asked quietly.

“I love you, and I am not dumping you, Nora. But you’ve been making it pretty clear that you don’t want to get married. And I’ve been procrastinating ending our habit of having sex. I’m done telling myself, just one more time. Then you show up several days later. And I think, just one more time.

“I’m becoming a Christian,  Nora, and I want to live a life of obedience to God’s moral law. I simply can’t fornicate anymore. And given our history, I couldn’t just be your friend and not constantly be tempted.”

“But you’d be willing to marry me?” Nora asked, with a stern gaze.

“Yes, you know that. I’ll marry you right now if you’d be willing.”

“Well, we shouldn’t rush into anything.”

“Rush into anything? We’ve been together almost seven years.”

“Uh, uh, uh,” she uttered, waving a corrective finger at me. “We’ve only been trying the relationship thing a matter of months.”

“Nora, we’ve consummated hundreds of times since we first started seeing each other. And we’ve sort been friends that whole time too.”

“That’s the point! Between our history in Florida and now our current situation in Iowa, I’d say we are already common law married.”

“Okay,” I nodded. “That is a start.”

“Fine, then lets get it on,” she said, taking my hand and pulling me. “How about the shower?”

I tugged back, and she lost her balance. Nora was tough and fiery, but I was still almost twice her weight. “We need to make it legal, and for Pastor to say some words over us.”

Nora swore and put her hands on her hips. “I’ve always liked your macho, manliness in our relationship… I mean situation. But your new religion is making you a wimp.”

I laughed. “Yeah, you’ve always clearly been a lady, haven’t you? Just like most women, you put your guy in choke holds, arm bars, and slug him on occasion.”

“That’s why I need a tough man,” she said as she took a step toward me. Her face was close enough I could feel her warm breath. “You and I are so right for each other. I moved to fly over country for you. Isn’t that a gesture of permanence?”

“You did it for your career.”

“I could have went anywhere in the country.”

Nora looked contrite and vulnerable. I really did love her. I went to one knee and took her hands in mine. “Dayanara Medora, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Nora stared at me with a blank expression.

“You really are serious, aren’t you?” she asked with a mildly stunned expression.

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation.

            She went to one knee herself and looked earnestly into my eyes.

“If I say yes,” she asked so quietly it was almost a whisper, “can we still remain like we are? I mean that I live in Des Moines while you live here.”

“That would be fine.”

“I don’t want kids.”

“That’s fine.”

“And I don’t want to change my name.”

“You don’t need to, even though Storm is a pretty awesome name.”

She chuckled and gazed at me with genuine affection.  

“It is a pretty awesome name,” she agreed. “But Medora goes with Nora pretty slick.”

“It does at that.”

We stared at each other for a minute, strangely shy and goofily. It made her uncomfortable, so she kissed me hard and long. When she deepened the kiss, I tried to push away. She grabbed a couple of my fingers and began bending them in an unnatural position. “Owe!” I bellowed.

“Okay, now it’s time for a compromise,” she said in her cop voice. “Stand up.”

I arose as she still firmly gripped my fingers. The potential for increased pain lingered. If it was an actual threat, I could have kneed her in the mid-section or punched her with my free hand. She let go and demanded. “Now, I said yes to your proposal. That means we intend to marry. So let’s go consummate our engagement.”

“Nora, I said not until we are actually married.”

She sighed heavily, put her hands on her hips. “Brock, Solomon had seven hundred wives. Do you really think he had seven hundred ceremonies or seven hundred signed legal documents?”

She had me there. Plus, she looked hot, in more ways than one, as sweat still continued to bead from her pores. I grinned, shook my head, and kissed her.

Twenty-four hours later, I was sitting at Cotton Creek with Destiny, having just blurted that I’ve killed people. Although she handled it cooly, I could see disturbance in her eyes. She calmly and daintily tucked a strand of honey blonde hair behind an ear. Her beautiful large eyes were as blue as the sky. She was so different than Nora, but every bit as alluring.

Over the last twenty hours, I wasn’t very happy with the person who famously declared that an unexamined life wasn’t worth living. But my anguish over sex and violence proved to be healthy in the end. It was just painful and confusing in the present. A small example was my ‘yes’ to Destiny’s question. Was it a lie?

No, I told myself. It was a step. I had been working for the security firm during every execution I had committed. It was just on my personal time. If Destiny and I were to get closer, I would reveal everything that happened.

What was I thinking? If Destiny and I got closer? I had just proposed marriage to Nora Medora! Not only that, Nora said yes. She also had promised we would tie the knot before the end of the year. I had demanded by the end of summer. She said maybe.

I changed the subject with the lovely Miss Destiny Knight. “Yesterday I asked Nora to marry me.”

To my surprise, her eyes looked more startled than when I confessed to having killed men. Then her lower lip tucked in a little, and her chin crinkled for a second as if she felt like crying. Then she stoically replied, “Oh, you did?”

“Yeah,” I responded, my mind racing.

Was Destiny interested in me? Was I interested in her, despite intending to marry another woman? Did I make a mistake by asking Nora Medora to be my lawfully wedded wife? In the long run, Destiny would be the better choice, due to our similar faith. But Nora not only knew my secret, she was in a position to put me in prison for the rest of my life. But didn’t I deserve it after taking the law into my on hands?

Oh the human condition! I had been sorting out my past as a vigilante killer. In particular, reconciling my previous actions of self-justice with my developing spirituality. At the same time, I was sorting out feelings of love, lust, and infatuation. I longed to live under righteous principles. Nora left me feeling rattled yesterday. Then Destiny gave me mixed messages today.

With a seemingly genuine smile, Destiny extended a hand, “Congratulations.”

I took her hand, and with a mischievous grin, I said, “I didn’t tell you her answer.”

“Oh,” she replied with wide eyes. “I assumed she said yes.”

“She did,” I said with a chuckle. “I was just teasing.”

“I guess my assumption was based off what my own response would have been,” Destiny said cheerfully.

“Your own response?” I asked with a frown. “What does that mean?”

“Just that I would have said yes if you had asked me.”

CHAPTER 5

DESTINY

The week after my twenty-eighth birthday was probably the best week of my life. The beautiful thing was the simplicity of it. I hung out with my aunt, studied the Bible, prayed, went for long walks, and learned all about Belle’s ministry. I was feeling more direction in my life than I ever had.

The odd thing was feeling this awesome sense of direction when I had no direct plans. I just knew that I wanted to be a part of my Aunt Belle’s ministry. Financially, I had no money worries. I had a few years salary saved if you calculated it by the average working person’s income.

I also knew for certain that I wanted no part of my old life, except a tiny desire for Sophie to return to me. I also tried to put to rest my fantasy of something developing with Brock. Belle had informed me that he had a long-term girlfriend that was a police detective. For the first time in my life I was feeling somewhat asexual. I say somewhat because although I blocked my fantasies of Brock, I couldn’t stop the reality of seeing him.

When I lost my virginity at the age of sixteen, I felt a sense of emptiness afterward. At the time, I figured a lot of it had to do with youth and inexperience. The encounter was physically painful, and my boyfriend seemed to be enraptured in his own pleasure. It wasn’t a fond memory at all. Someone’s first time should be in a committed relationship with love anchoring the promise of a future together.

 Regardless of being disappointed with fornication, I continued to accommodate my boyfriend.  My second and third boyfriends weren’t any better. As a matter of fact they were worse. My second boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend. She quickly became my former friend, and I got revenge by doing a video with his friend. It was my first step toward adult entertainment.

I was still a senior in high school and terrified that my father would find out. It ended up on the internet, and he did. But not because he came across it. One of my step siblings told him. The contention between my dad and me was so bad, I moved in with a friend’s older sister. To this day, I’m not sure if he kicked me out or if I ran away.

It wasn’t long before my twenty two year old roommate began seducing me. She seemed so mature and worldly wise. I was in awe of her and wanted to please her. So not long after I moved in with her, when we were sharing a couple cocktails, she tried to kiss me. I enthusiastically kissed her back, and she became my first female lover.

She was pretty and petite. But her breast implants were so disproportionate with her small frame that I promised myself I would never get cosmetic surgery, and I never did. She was a former gymnast who had transferred her talents to a stripper’s pole. Men certainly didn’t seem to mind her unnatural chest, not by a long shot.

It was her influence that led me to exotic dancing. However, she actually tried to dissuade me from taking to the stage myself. I thought she was looking out for my best interests at the time, especially after I did my first private lap dance. But I found out later that she viewed me as competition. Regardless of her intentions, if I had heeded her advice, maybe I could have avoided a decade in the pit of sin.

But what ifs are usually an endless train. What if I hadn’t looked up my aunt? What if I had followed through with my suicidal desires? What if Brock and I had gotten together after he saved me that awful night nine years previous? Instead we lived over a thousand miles apart. What if he had been my first boyfriend? What if he didn’t have that girlfriend who reminded me of my ex, Sophie? Now I’m getting ahead of myself.

It was strange seeing the subject of my most persistent fantasy every week at church. Yet there were a couple of things that created an odd oxymoron. For one thing, I knew that he had a serious girlfriend. And for another thing, I was rapidly becoming spiritually minded rather than carnally minded. Over the next few weeks, I literally had traded Bible text over sex.

For the first time in my adult life, I didn’t desire sexual contact with another human being. I became conscious of spiritual realities. My aunt had given me many things to study in the Bible, but I kept returning to certain verses that seemed to be speaking directly to me. Romans 1:24-26 was a prime example. Having been in the sex industry, worshipping the creature more than the creator was crystal clear to me.

About a month after I had first looked Aunt Belle up, I decided that I wanted to be baptized and officially join Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship. I talked to Pastor Samson before the church service and told him my desire.

He was delighted, and suggested that my aunt do the honors of burying me in baptism. I got choked up thinking of the significance of my Aunt Belle performing the ceremony. The woman who very well may have saved my life. She would be the one helping me rise from the watery grave that represented being reborn to newness of life in Christ. Pastor invited the congregation to join us the following Sabbath at Cotton Creek as I publicly proclaimed my acceptance of Jesus as my Lord and Savior.

As the pastor was making this announcement regarding my impending baptism, Brock showed up with his significant other. I stared at first because I thought he was with my ex, Sophie. But then I immediately noticed that unlike my ex, she had no visible tattoos. However, my ex and Brock’s lady friend could easily pass for sisters.

 Brock’s companion wore a tan skirt with a white blouse. The skirt was several inches above the knee and seemed a bit racy for this conservative church. It hiked up even further when she sat. She crossed one shapely leg over the other. I looked away before multiple wrong thoughts tormented my brain.

“Belle,” I whispered to my aunt. “Is that Brock’s girlfriend?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Does she come often?”

“It seems she comes to church with him once or twice a month.”

“She’s beautiful,” I acknowledged.

Belle gazed at her coolly. “On the outside, she is.”

I wondered what she meant by that, but now wasn’t the time or place to have that discussion.

About halfway through the service, Brock’s girlfriend got up and abruptly walked to the foyer. A couple of minutes later, she returned and whispered something to Brock. He nodded and she left the church. I recalled Belle telling me that she was a police detective, and I guessed that was why she suddenly left.

After the service, we were preparing for the fellowship potluck meal when I felt a gentle hand at the small of my back and a voice with a hint of warm, cinnamon breath inches from my ear. I felt a tingling sensation race up my spine and down my legs.

“Are you free this afternoon?” Brock’s deep, fluid voice asked me. The  warm, pleasant tingle coursed through me again. Was feeling desire for him wrong?

“Yeah, sure,” I replied, a little unsettled. My pulse quickened. “What’s up?”

“I just want to talk, okay?” Brock asked, removing his hand from my back.

“Sure,” I tried not to stammer. “Anything in particular?”

“Mainly your upcoming baptism.”

“Okay,” I said, frowning a little. Did he think I was unworthy? Belle assured me that all have sinned and come short of the glory of God. “Is your lady friend going to join us?”

“No,” Brock said a little too abruptly. “She’s a cop in Des Moines. She got called away. There was a break in a case she and her partner have been working on.”

“She’s very pretty,” I told him.

Brock nodded as he seemed to search my eyes. Did he think that I found her desirable? Since he had kept tabs on me, surely he realized my ex bore a remarkable resemblance to his girlfriend. The thought flickered through my mind that it wasn’t me that his lady friend resembled.

“Look, I’ll let you get back to your task,” he told me.

“Okay.”

“So we’re on then?” Brock asked. “Maybe we could take a walk to Cotton Creek after the fellowship meal?”

“Sounds good,” I said, trying to give a cheerful, carefree smile.

Brock and I returned to the same spot as our last chat. Once again, I marveled at how lovely it was with the trees and babbling brook. What a perfect place to get baptized!

“So,” I said with a coy smile. “Do you want to tell me I’m not fit to be baptized?”

“No, not at all,” Brock replied as his eyes widened. “But I don’t really know how to put into words what I do want to discuss. I mean, I’ve thought about getting baptized myself, but I never feel ready. Do you know what I mean?”

“Not really,” I admitted.

“You see, you take Nora…,” he said.

“Nora is your lady friend, right?” I interrupted.

“Yes,” he replied. “She’s probably my biggest stumbling block. For one thing, she doesn’t believe like I do. Shoot, I don’t even know what I believe most of the time.”

“Do you believe Jesus died for your sins?” I asked.

“Most definitely,” he replied without hesitation. “I looked into the historical facts about Jesus. It’s undeniable. It’s the other stuff, like the details of obedience and what’s required of us. Plus the fact that I’ve never met Him or talked to Him.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Well, once again, my situation with Nora,” he said. “She and I are, um, intimate. By the letter of the law we’re fornicating, but on the other hand we’re two consenting adults.”

I felt a pang of jealousy over Nora getting to be intimate with Brock. I even had a little pang over Brock getting to be intimate with Nora… I immediately shook off the thought.

“Why are you shaking your head?” Brock asked me.

“Oh nothing,” I said, hoping that I wasn’t blushing. “I’m just trying to process what you’re saying. So do you feel comfortable, then? I mean, like, a clear conscious with your relationship with Nora?”

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I guess I’m not convicted enough to stop being with her either. Or I’m simply just a weak, sin-loving reprobate.”

I couldn’t help chuckling a little. “How long have you two been together?”

“Six years, for the most part.”

“What do mean, ‘for the most part’?”

“We broke up for a couple of months when I moved here from Miami,” Brock said.

“So then you patched things up and she moved here?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “She got a job in Des Moines and then we got back together.”

I frowned. “So she moved to Iowa without knowing that you two would be getting back together?”

“She was going to, anyway,” he replied. “She said that she wanted a change in her own life and the job in Des Moines, regardless of whether she and I worked out as a couple.”

“After six years, have you two considered marriage?” I asked.

“I asked her, but she keeps putting it off. I guess you could say that she’s married to her career. Plus, her given name is Dayanara. It’s Puerto Rican. Do you know what Dayanara means?”

“Not a clue.”

“Husband slayer,” he said with wide, serious eyes.

I couldn’t help it – I started laughing. What made it so funny was this big, absolutely muscle-ripped martial artist seeming to be somewhat fearful of a girl. Albeit a tough one.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding emphatically, his eyes getting even wider. “And she’s not beyond it, believe me.”

I started laughing so hard my eyes began to tear up. Brock looked at me patiently, and then he smirked.

“I’m sorry,” I told Brock as I wiped the corners of my eyes.

“No need,” he replied, chuckling. “It is kind of funny… So, did I hear Captain Kirk say your Aunt Belle is the one baptizing you next week?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” I replied. “I’m so glad he suggested it. She’s helped me so much.”

“That’s cool,” Brock said. “I’ve only seen two baptisms since I’ve been coming here, and Captain Kirk did them both.”

“Apparently when Belle brings somebody into the fold, so to speak,” I said. “Captain Kirk encourages her to perform the rite.”

Brock nodded. “So how have you resolved your sexual preference? My oldest brother was gay. From talking to him, it seems to me like you can’t just turn it off.”

“You said he was gay so he must have found a way to turn it off.”

“He did,” Brock said sounding contrite. “He died.”

“Oh, Brock, I’m so sorry,” I said putting my hand on his forearm, feeling like an absolute idiot. “How long ago?”

 “Ten years,” he said.

“How?”

“Complications from AIDS.”

“How sad.”

“It was tragic.”

We were silent for a minute as we stared at the rippling water of the creek. I realized that my hand still rested on his hard, muscular forearm. I eased it away.

“So tell me now, how have you resolved your sexual preference?” Brock persisted. “To be honest, sexual matters are the biggest reason I’m not baptized yet.”

“So, are you bisexual then?”

“What? No, I’m talking about my nontraditional relationship with Nora, as well as my gay brother. I know enough about what the Bible teaches, and how Cotton Creek Cove adheres to Bible truth. I know that you were in a long term relationship with a woman. If it’s not too personal, I’d like to know where you stand on sexual matters.”

“Brock, I don’t know if I’m qualified to answer that,” I replied. “I’m just a babe in Christ.”

“Yes, you are,” Brock responded huskily as he looked at me lustily.

I felt my eyes widen as we looked at each other. I bit my lower lip as my brain froze for a few seconds. “I mean, I’m brand new to the Bible and Christianity.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I know what you meant,” Brock stammered. “Sorry if that came across wrong.”

“It’s okay,” I said quickly. I turned away from him as I tugged my skirt down, even though it was already below my knees. Then I clasped my hands together and pushed them between my thighs as my brain raced out of control.

Brock had a girlfriend! But they weren’t married. Was all still fair in love and war? What a dumb saying. Brock was off limits, period.

“I just think you’re beautiful, Dee,” Brock told me, using my nickname for the first time. Then he chuckled. “I’m actually glad your preference is women.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s always kept my desires for you at bay. I mean, not that you’d want a guy like me if you weren’t, you know…”

“You have to realize that I’m actually bisexual,” I replied a little too quickly. “True, my intimate history has been mostly with women. However, my deepest desire ever since I was a little girl was to be with a man. To get married and have kids, the white picket fence and all. I guess that I am just picky when it comes to guys. In my former profession I was around too many undesirable guys. I do know this much. If I’m ever in an intimate relationship again, it will be with a man and we will be married first before being, um, intimate.”

“So what type of guy are you attracted to, the androgynous type?”

“No, silly,” I said, giving his upper arm a push. Man, he was rock hard! Why did I keep touching him? Was I coming off as flirtatious? “My dream guy is rather manly.”

“Oh, yeah?” Brock said with a big, mischievous grin. “Is this a real guy or a creation of your imagination?”

“I guess you could say both,” I told him. “My point is, I don’t think I’m qualified to answer a spiritual question about being gay.”

“You were in a gay relationship, right?”

“You know I was.”

“That qualifies you in my eyes. So I want to know your opinion. Is the Bible intolerant of gay people?”

“I believe the Bible is intolerant of sin in general, and it’s sinners that are intolerant of the Bible. Like I said, I’m new to this. But I’ve already have gotten a taste of people who say the Bible teaches hate, just because it proclaims a different opinion than theirs. It seems pretty narcissistic to be offended because someone has a different opinion than your own. Like my Aunt Belle says God hates the sin but He loves the sinner.

“Those people who believe the Bible teaches hate obviously haven’t studied the gospel very thoroughly. Look at what Jesus did for us in dying a cruel death for our sins. How can you possibly call that hate? Yet I’m not offended, or think you don’t have the right to feel that way.”

“What about the God of the Old Testament?” Brock inquired. “It seems He was pretty violent and vengeful.”

“I’d say we can’t relate from one generation to another now. How can we possibly relate to a culture thousands of years ago? I mean in Sodom and Gomorrah, men were demanding that Lot send angels disguised as men out so they could have sex with them (Genesis 19:1-5) That’s pretty wicked. Before the flood, God was sorry that He made man (Genesis 6:6).

“I know this much though. Jesus said, if you’ve seen Me, you’ve seen the Father (John 14:9). And there’s been no life more impressive in human history, in my mind, than the life of Jesus. God became a man! Tempted as we are, yet without sin!

“I agree,” he replied, nodding. “But you can’t deny that religionists have persecuted gay people.”

“Religionists murdered Jesus! Religion doesn’t make you right with God. I mean, millions of people have been murdered in the name of God. These people were controlled by Satan, not the Savior. People have not only forgotten, but are unaware of the history of the dark ages. It should be a no brainer that if you are killing someone, especially in the name of God, you couldn’t be more deluded if you think your actions are virtuous.”

Brock was staring at me. Unlike moments ago, it wasn’t adoring. Now it was cold and  hard, and my skin crawled a little under his gaze. He said in low voice. “I’ve killed people.”

CHAPTER 4

BROCK

As I sat in the woods waiting for my prey, I couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Destiny the previous day. I was glad to see that all those years in the sex trade hadn’t aged her prematurely. Who knows how she ended up psychologically, though? Maybe we would become friends and I would find out. Maybe more than friends.

I shook of that thought. What a hypocrite! Here I waited in hiding to satisfy an element of my lustful desires. I was about to behave badly with one woman, while dreaming of a wholesome relationship with another. Did I have a split personality?

In a few minutes I would be indulging in a game of lust that sometimes seemed to control me. Outwardly, as far as the world knew, I was disciplined. Inwardly, I cried along with the Apostle Paul, declaring, “Oh wretched man that I am!” But unlike Paul, at this time in my life I had yet to fully inquire, “Who will deliver me from this body of death?”

I spotted my prey making her way up the trail, and my adrenaline began to spike. She came closer and closer to my lair. Man, did she ever fill out those black spandex shorts that she ran in with a matching sports bra. Her entire lithe body was perfectly toned. The green camouflaged baseball cap that covered her short black hair sat low over her eyes, but I could tell that she was looking around nervously. As she should. This place was remote. The man about to attack her, me, was the only other person for miles.

From my secluded spot, I watched her pass as I admired her well-muscled female form. I moved quickly and quietly to another spot, a place I had prepared for an attack. She would continue to run up hill for another two hundred yards, and then the trail would loop around, winding back down the hill. When she passed my spot, I hoped that she would be tired, unfocussed, and then I would strike.

I had a dark green canvas covered with leaves and twigs positioned by a good sized rock. I hid underneath the canvas and put my feet against the rock, readying myself to spring out as she passed. We would be so deep in the woods that nobody would hear a thing. Go ahead and scream all you want, Honey. I felt like a sinister Rambo.

I could hear the padding of her feet on the trail before she came into sight. They were heavy footfalls so she was indeed tired! Suddenly she was in front of me, and my legs catapulted me off the rock. I grabbed her around the legs as she went down with a scream and then a grunt. In seconds, I had her in an arm bar and her face winced with pain.

“Tap out,” I told her.

“No,” she grunted. Then she shouted, “Get off me!”

I applied a little more pressure and waited. Her body was slick with sweat and hard to hold on to. Despite her fatigue, she was strong.

“Tap out,” I demanded.

“No,” she said with gritted teeth as she struggled against me.

I applied a little more pressure. She growled, but then slapped the ground three times and I released her. I was climbing off of her when she grabbed me and flipped me to the side of her. Like I said, she was strong. Then she grabbed my arm and put me in a wrist bar.

“What are you doing?” I asked as now I winced and froze paralyzed by pain.

“Retaliation,” she said with a cocky grin. Then she lowered her face to mine and kissed me on the mouth. A drop of her sweat fell into my eye, and I blinked the burn away.

“That’s not fair,” I said. “You’re the one that wants me to attack you. You keep begging me to play this twisted game of yours, and then you cheat?”

“I know, but I usually get away,” she said. “I guess I’m a sore loser. Nice job.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But you do know that if I really wanted to take you out, I could.”

“But you do give it your all within safer parameters, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“All right then,” she said. “So now I need you to tap out to even things up today.”

“Even things up?” I complained. “This was the first time in six or eight tries that I got you in a position to tap out.”

“Nine,” she said, “but who’s counting? And just for the record, you know you like playing this game.”

I first met Nora Medora when I lived in Miami. She was a vice detective with the Miami police department. When our occupations happened to overlap six years earlier, the sexual chemistry between us crackled, even though we were on opposing sides of a case. When the case was over, I called her. To my pleasant surprise, she agreed to meet me for a drink. She didn’t beat around the bush with what she wanted, which was a partner to be physically intimate with, period. At the time, that worked for me as well.

Nora was focused on her career, and I was enraptured in wanderlust. I was based out of Miami, but I traveled the world for my job, and loved it. Neither she nor I were good at relationships, but we weren’t into sleeping around either. We were two peas in a pod, and so began six years of being ‘friends with benefits.’ Other than sex, it actually seemed like a friendship with a guy in a lot of ways. We worked out together, watched ballgames, and talked shop about her experiences as a cop and mine as a bodyguard for the rich and famous.

In the spring of 2015, I was extremely frustrated with my life. I was tired of being a soldier for the wealthy and pampered. I also had been around the world several times, and had had my fill of travel. I also was frustrated with the shallowness of my arrangement with Nora.

Yet, I had developed feelings for her, and I went against our deal. I suggested she move in with me, and on bended knee, I proposed marriage. But she shot me down quickly and cruelly. It left me hurt and angry, but desperate for a change I might not have otherwise taken. I wanted something like a quest for truth and meaning to life. Reading Captain Kirk Samson’s book ignited a spark within me that I needed. God put it in my hands and at just the right time.

So it started with a simple vacation back home to Minnesota. I took my blue 2014 Shelby Mustang on a road trip with a plan to stop in Iowa. I wanted to meet the man whose book about faith, doubt, love and war, was beginning to change my life. I was hoping for the better. I also wanted to see the church and community vividly described in his autobiography. The heavenly quaintness of Cotton Creek Cove didn’t disappoint.

On the same trip I met Bentley Bonnano, a friend and co-worker’s brother. He was kind of goofy, but easy going. He was also a skilled mechanic, and I admired his old fashioned shop in the country, where he renovated classic vehicles. When he petitioned me to come to work with him, and also room with him, my first thought was no.

But between my rut in life, my stagnate relationship with Nora, Bentley’s offer, and Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship, I decided to move to eastern Iowa. I needed a major life reboot, and I was convinced this was it. So, I returned to Miami just long enough to close up shop, so to speak, and then I moved to Iowa. Right or wrong, I didn’t even say goodbye to Nora.

Somewhere between two and three months after I moved to Iowa, I came home to find a Dodge Charger with Illinois plates in my driveway. I walked around cautiously to my backyard. Was it a former enemy? Some type of salesperson? More than likely, it was some type of cop wanting to question me about something from my old job. I was right about the cop part.

“Hey, you,” a sultry, familiar voice said from behind me.

Have you ever been thrilled and devastated at the same time? Even in khaki shorts, a Miami Heat T-shirt, and aviator sunglasses, Nora Medora looked smoking hot.

“What are you doing here?” I asked matter-of-factly. But I felt a little creeped out, like she was stalking me or something. But at the same time, I was a bit excited. Seeing her felt, for lack of a better word, nostalgic. Yet my better judgement made me very skeptical.

The rare smile on her face faded, and she defiantly put her hands on her hips. “That’s how you’re going to greet me?”

“Apparently,” I said.

She tried to smile again, but it flickered and went out. She actually seemed to be fighting off tears. Tears would be another rare thing for Nora Medora.

“This your car?” I asked, groping for something to say as I pointed to the Charger.

“It’s a rental.”

“I see,” I said. “So how’d you find me?”

“I’m a detective,” she said.

We stood and stared at each other for a long minute.

“I’ve missed you,” Nora finally said quietly.

A third strange set of words from her. I just gazed at her blank faced. A lone tear leaked from under the aviators.

“You haven’t missed me at all?” Nora asked in a croaky whisper. Maybe she was more thoughtful and caring than I gave her credit for.

“Sure I have,” I said. “But the last time I saw you, you threw the roses I bought for you after I asked you to marry me. Then you punched me in the stomach after I said that I loved you.”

“It wasn’t that hard of a punch,” she said calmly as she removed her sunglasses, revealing bloodshot eyes. “You broke our agreement, and it took me by surprise. But now that I’ve had 72 days to think about it, do you know how I would have responded in hindsight?”

“How?” I asked, intrigued.

“I love you, too,” she said stepping toward me, drawing the words out slowly and passionately. Our mouths came together like they had over a thousand times before. But never with this much desperation. After a couple minutes lost in a lip lock, she pushed away from me.

“I need to tell you something,” Nora said as we came up for air. “I’m taking a job with the Iowa Division of Criminal Investigation. I’ll be based out of Des Moines.”

“What?” I said, incredulously, my whole body going stiff. “That was rather presumptuous.”

“You don’t understand,” she said. “I needed a change, too. Plus I was lost without my best friend.”

“Your only friend,” I added.

She just shrugged, and continued. “Anyway, right after you left, I started applying around the Midwest. Regardless of whether or not you want to resume our, um, relationship, the IDCI seems like a perfect fit for me. I’ll have a chance to be a bigger fish in a smaller pond, rather than remaining stuck as a small fish in a bigger.”

“I see,” I replied, still getting my mind around Nora possibly being back in the picture. Again, I was both apprehensive and thrilled at the same time.

“So, would you be interested in resuming what we had?” Nora asked with a coy, seductive smile.

“Just so you know, I’m at a point in my life where I want a normal relationship. That’s why I asked you to marry me.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.

“No.”

“Great, let’s resume then,” Nora said with a strange, bright smile.

“I said I want a normal relationship,” I insisted.

“What exactly do you mean by normal?” Nora asked. I could tell she was holding in frustration. I think she was hoping I’d be so ecstatic to see her, I would cave. I’m ashamed to admit that Nora always controlled me by sex appeal. So why the drab shorts and a t-shirt that was a size too big? It might have been a psychological ploy. If it was, once again I’m ashamed to admit, it ended up working.

“I want to settle down,” I told her with a shrug. “It’s as simple as that. I want a wife and kids one day.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes, bowed her head, and then shook it. Then she looked at me. “I’ll consider marriage, but no babies are gonna take up residence in my womb.”

“Fair enough, we could adopt. I’m sure there are plenty of orphans in the world.”

She nodded, then snorted, and then shook her head.

“What was that?” I chuckled. “First a yes, then a maybe, and then a no?”

“If we were to have kids, adoption is the way to go. However, can you really see me as a mother? I’m not exactly a warm and fuzzy female. Like you insinuated, I don’t have many friends. I’m self-aware. I know I’m cold and prickly. That’s why I was stunned that you want to marry. So tell me, why do you?”

I shrugged. “We have a history, I’m loyal, and we get along pretty good.”

“We’ve always got along pretty good because never lived together.”

“We could adjust,” I tried.

“Okay,” she said with a sarcastic chuckle. Then she put on a seductive grin. “Now, how about you give me a tour of your house, and conclude it with your bedroom. We could try this adjustment you speak of by me spending the night.”

Now I had my first real struggle with sexual urges since I started attending Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship. The last time I had been intimate was actually with Nora a few months previously. Was I the last for her? As attractive as she was, I suspected so. That’s probably why she seemed as desirous as me. Even more so.

But I had a new dilemma in my psyche. I had been trying to walk with God the last couple of months. I had come to believe fornication to be a sin. But there was a problem with my flesh. My walk with God wasn’t with all my heart. Yet I still tried to do the right thing, but my flesh was weak, despite my strong body. I tried to explain my situation to Nora. In a nutshell, I told her that we needed to be married before we became one physically again.

“Well, I’m not marrying you today,” she told me. “I need to get my head around our situation, and you getting all religious now. So how about we compromise? We’ll get together on my days off, and I’ll even go to church with you when I can. But we need to resume our, um, thing post haste.”

“By thing, you mean sex?”

She smiled seductively, stepped toward me, and took my hands in hers. Her lovely dark, intense eyes gazed into mine. “How about we call it making love?”

“Nora, like I explained, we need to be married before we resume intimacy.”

Nora tended to be a hot head. Up to this point she had been patient and reasonable. But I knew her well and braced for a verbal explosion. So I was surprised when she simply nodded, shrugged, and took a step back from me.

Before I comprehended what she was doing, her t-shirt seemed to shoot off the top of her head. Rather than a bra, she was wearing a tiny red bikini top. Placing hands on her hips, she grinned mischievously and inquired, “Well?”

“I see you’ve still been working out in my absence,” I replied as I tried to stuff down temptation.

She stepped toward me again. “I’ve had to work off frustrations. Lots of frustration! It seems you have too.”

She ran her left hand over my right bicep, and her right hand over my left pectoral muscle. She complimented me on my build. I have often received comments and compliments on my muscles. This was ironic as my flesh had never been weaker under her touch. She kissed me deeply, and I kissed her back enthusiastically.

“Come on, show me your bedroom,” she said coyly, as she took my hand and began to lead me toward my house.

I began to follow as if in a trance. But then I stopped after a few steps and pulled my hand from hers. Lamely, I said, “Nora… I can’t.”

“Wow, you really have changed,” she replied as if appalled. But she seemed to be enjoying herself. Then she sighed. “Well, I certainly don’t want to force you against your will. But I do want to show you one more thing before I leave. I want you to know what you’ll be missing out on.”

Off came her khaki shorts, revealing the other half of her bikini. Her tiny bikini. All of the reason seemed to drain from my brain. She did a quick little parade, then opened her arms and asked, “Well, do I stay or do I go?”

“Stay,” I heard myself say.

Thus Nora Medora reentered my life and drastically impeded my spiritual progress. After I caved in that first time, it only became easier to give in. Especially when some new twists were added to our relationship. Some good, some bad. Nora began attending church with me every few weeks, and I played a bizarre little hide and seek game with her. Actually it was more like hunt and escape.

With all of the remote areas close to where I lived, she had me stalk her and try to attack her when she went for a run. This was supposed to hone her skills as an officer of the law. I suppose it did, but our exercise also always ended with sexual overtones.

After more than half a decade together and her skill at manipulation, she knew how to play me. Nine months into her move to Iowa, and we were still no closer to marriage. She was my biggest stumbling block. Not only sexually, but she knew a secret of mine that she held over me.

Before I began seeking God, I had been a vigilante killer. Nora Medora had found out. However, it was some pretty evil guys I had eliminated, so my girlfriend cop had been an ally. But then my destiny changed by reacquainting with Destiny Knight. This made my girlfriend ally a potential enemy.