Destiny Calling (21 page)

Chance cupped his hand under my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Yes. I know she did.”

“But how could you know?”

“Simple, Ruthie told me and you know—”

I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Please don’t say it.” I laughed. “She knows,” I said, before he could.

Chance hugged me before I could protest. “I love you, Sis. It feels good to have you home.”

My laughter faded as warmth spread through me. “Me too.”

****

A beep announced the arrival of a text on my phone. I rolled to my side. Tercet growled low in her throat to protest her shift in position on my head, where she imitated a little fur cap. I made a grab for my phone without opening my eyes, and it slid out of my grasp at the first two attempts, until I cracked an eye. Tercet moved to crouch over the phone, ready to attack.

Who was calling this early?
Better yet, who has my number?
Although, I’d guess phone numbers were easy to come by. People here acted as if everything was anybody’s business, which somewhat explained Ruthie’s rude behavior. The regulars kept their distance from those passing through, fiercely defending the privacy of those they knew. From what I’d learned so far, they did that for good reason.

I didn’t recognize the number, but froze when I read the text.

“I think you have something of mine.”

Griffith. I sat up, sending Tercet flying off in a huff. I don’t know how he knew I had the book, but he knew. Grimacing, I hoped he wasn’t like Ruthie. I couldn’t take one more
know it all
in my life right now. I stared at the text message. There was no use lying. Besides the book wasn’t doing me much good since we couldn’t open it.

I thought about what Ruthie said about on-the-job training. No one knew what we were expected to do. But I’d bet Griffith knew more than we did. I’d been around him several times and even been secluded in his house in the middle of nowhere. If he planned to kill or maim me, he’d passed up good opportunities already.

What did I have to lose? Maybe I could convince him to tell me about the book and help me understand what I was dealing with, and what I couldn’t tell my family about myself. I looked at my hand, no hazy fog right now. I might regret my decision to trust Griffith, but I needed to start stepping up sometime.

I was glad he’d texted me rather than come in person. Although, I couldn’t determine how angry he was about me taking the creepy book over a text.

I texted back.
“I did borrow something of yours. I’ve been meaning to get it back to you. Can we meet somewhere?”
I wanted to add about making it a public place with multiple escape routes, but didn’t want to highlight my anxiety. I needed to act as if meeting him was no big deal. I couldn’t dwell on what could happen if he was angry with me for taking it.

Falling back on the bed, I laid the phone on my chest and closed my eyes. Tercet jumped back on me and sniffed at the phone. Worst case scenario was he’d bring all his Oppressor friends and force me into a pit of despair and agony. I’d see no reprieve from the depression except for release from the constraints of this world with sweet, sweet death.

Tercet batted at the phone, oblivious to my distress.

Or maybe he’d show up alone and finish what he started in the store parking lot, ravishing me until I’m too helpless to resist him. The heat rose through my body as I envisioned this. Well, perhaps the second scenario wouldn’t necessarily be considered a worst-case scenario
. Damn, why’d he have to be such a hottie?

My phone beeped. I lifted it to glance at the text while Tercet pursued the phone and my hand.

“I could come over to your apartment if you want.”

I didn’t want that. Not with the possibility of Tessa or someone else possibly deciding to pop in. I wanted to keep some of my cards under wraps. Even so, there was curious George to think of downstairs waiting for me to visit. Even if he didn’t know Griffith, it was unlikely he approved of him, if I went by the impressions of Chance and Ruthie. Despite his living here, I didn’t think Griffith fit in with the regulars.

I needed somewhere public, but offered privacy, because this book probably wasn’t something he shared with just anyone. Maybe I could convince him to tell me about it. Like for starters, how to open the damn thing.

“How about the park?”
I responded. It wasn’t far from here, and it was warmer out today, but not warm enough for many people to go there.

“See you in fifteen.”

Trudging to the closet to dress in jeans and a sweater, I grabbed a shoulder bag large enough to hold the book. The bottom of the closet was a mess from where I’d shoved the suitcase. I continued to live directly out of it and hadn’t found places for my meager possessions. That would make this stay more permanent. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.

I ran a brush through my hair, brushed my teeth, and applied lip gloss and mascara. Lucky for me I’d perfected the two-minute make-over while living in my car. When I went back to the kitchen for the book, Tercet was crouched beside it, hissing furiously. After I tossed the book into the bag, Tercet stalked away with her head and tail held high.

I scanned the empty park as I approached. The scattered trees were starting to show a bud or two as they struggled in the changing spring weather. Sliding the bag over my shoulder, I headed for a bench in the middle of the park. I made my way through the muddy grass. The combination of melting snow and spring rain showers made the ground sloppy. I mentally noted escape routes and the closest businesses I could run to, if necessary.

As I sat, the cold of the bench penetrated my jeans, chilling me. I considered sitting on the book, but didn’t think Griffith would approve of using his ancient book as a seat cushion.

The park seemed like a safe place in case Griffith decided to try to overpower me with his oppressing stuff. Jumping off the top of the sliding board or riding the merry-go-round until I vomited—both seemed unlikely methods to kill me.

“Hey,” Griffith said, from behind me.

I jumped up, clutching the bag concealing the book against my chest. “You about gave me a heart attack.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wondered if perhaps that had been his intent. Although it would be a long shot at my age, despite my lackluster exercise regime.

“Sorry.” He smiled slightly, holding back his humor. “I didn’t realize you were that jumpy.”

“Where’s your bike?” I scanned the park, thinking I would’ve heard him approach on his motorcycle and wondering if he had abilities like Drake did when he’d arrived at Griffith’s unannounced.

“I walked from work.”

“From work?” I’d assumed he didn’t work. Figuring he inherited money from his parents to have that big house. Spending all of his time imagining how to oppress and depress people or in the seduction of women. Although the seduction part probably wouldn’t take up too much time. It appeared to come naturally.

“What do you do?” I took in the nice black slacks and dark blue shirt, trying to picture what kind of work he’d do. The iridescent haze waxed and waned around him like a caress.

“I manage the liquor store.” Griffith either sensed my anxiety or had some of his own, because he kept shifting his gaze around the park.

“Ahh, makes sense for you to spend all that time at the bar, then.” I repositioned the bag on my shoulder. “Trying to make sure we’re selling your product? Or promoting it to our regulars?”

He smiled. “They say it’s good to know your merchandise. I have to sample the products, don’t I?” He glanced at the bag. “Did you bring my book?”

“Yeah, about that.” I sat down on the bench and Griffith sat beside me, without waiting for an invitation. “I’m sorry about taking the book without asking.”

I snuck a glance at him to see if he looked angry. “I meant to ask if I could borrow it, but…forgot.”

Griffith didn’t say anything. I’m sure he could see right through my lie, considering the size of the book. It wasn’t as if I could forget I was carrying it. Plus we’d ridden the motorcycle that day. The look on his face made me think he might’ve known I took it in the first place, but he hadn’t tried to stop me.

As the silence became uncomfortable, he spoke. “You forgot?”

“Okay, that’s a lame excuse, isn’t it?” It was time to lay my cards on the table. I wasn’t one to play games and wasn’t about to start now.

Griffith’s laugh came out short and quick, but genuine, and apparently, startled him as much as me. “You could say that. I’m just surprised you did. Do you make it a habit of stealing from people you just meet?”

I averted my gaze to the ground. “No, this is a first for me. Well, if you don’t count Yolanda and her wets-a-lot doll, but I was six and she had plenty of other dolls, so I wouldn’t call it stealing, since I don’t know if she even missed the doll…”

I stopped babbling. He watched me with a raised eyebrow that emphasized the depths of his beautiful eyes. I clamped my mouth shut before I continued to babble all the secrets of my life as if confessing my last sins. Although, this meeting wasn’t over yet, and perhaps I’d be doing just that by the time all was said and done. As of right now, he looked entertained and didn’t appear to be contemplating methods of making me suffer a slow, terrible death.

“But in light of me being honest with you...” I studied my lap to avoid looking at his face, since I lost control of my tongue when I did and went on a chattering tirade. “Ahh…perhaps you can tell me about this book? You knew I took it, didn’t you?” I slid the book out to lay on my lap.

“Yes, I did.”

The book was warmer than it should have been, and the cover looked different. It reminded me of one of those optical illusion pictures that had different images each time you looked. “Why did you let me take it?”

The colors on the cover meshed, and a wooded image appeared. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Perhaps you could tell me about…Oppressors?” I looked at him, to gauge his response.

The humor left Griffith’s expression, and he stared straight ahead. “You haven’t figured that out yet?”

I shrugged. “You go first.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.” The muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“No, I don’t. That’s why I’m asking you.” I tugged at the book cover again, but it still wouldn’t budge. “That’s why I took this book. But I can’t open it. I don’t understand. It opened when I had it out in your library.”

“That’s because you were in my house, and I permitted it to open.” He held his hand a few inches away from the book, and it warmed and pulled toward his hand, as if a magnet was inside of the book seeking him out.

“It’s mine, and it knows it.”

“It? The book? Is it because you’re one of…” I risked agitating him pressing him like this, but didn’t think he’d hurt me. “Is it because you’re an Oppressor? One of its, err, kind?”

He stood. “That’s not my kind.” Griffith towered over me, and the haze around him darkened and picked up speed. Its movement made me feel very small.

“I’m sorry, I thought…” Cowering under his anger I wondered what the hell I was doing taunting him.

I slid to the edge of the bench, grabbing the back to keep from falling off. I tried to remember the escape routes I’d planned.

“I’m surprised you’d even pick it up.”

“Why? Because it gets hot?”

“No, because the cover is made out of human flesh.”

“Human flesh?” Bile rose to the back of my throat. I wiped my hands on my jeans, looking from Griffith to the book with horror and disgust.

Griffith scowled. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I made the cover.” He sighed. “Look, Hope…” He ran both hands over his face, scrubbing off the fury. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“I’m not frightened,” I squeaked.

Griffith reached for the book, and it scooted into his hand without him touching it. He tucked the book under his arm, and the cover flapped open for a second as he transferred it. “I have to get back to work.”

“What about the book? Can’t you tell me about it?” Even if I had it in my possession again, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to touch the cover, knowing what it was made of.

“No. Not today. Not here. If she knew you had this…” Griffith peered around the park, studying every tree as if he thought someone was going to rush out.

I looked but didn’t see anyone except a few ladies who’d sat at one of the picnic benches with their brown bag lunch, probably taking advantage of one of the first warm days of spring. They didn’t look threatening. But I didn’t feel threatened by Griffith, and the look in his eye a few minutes ago told me I should be. All my life I’d been mistrustful of people, and I didn’t know why I’d choose Griffith to learn how to trust others.

“Somewhere else, then?” I said, tentatively, unwilling to give up the book without gaining any new information.

He placed a hand on my shoulder, and the heat from his touch permeated my jacket. I gasped.

“There are some things you’re better off not knowing.” He turned and stalked away through the park.

****

“Why in the world would you trust him?” Chance slammed his soda, and a little bubbled over the top. The people at the sub shop glanced at us, appearing irritated we’d disturbed their meal. “First you steal that book, then you give it back before we can get any information out of it?”

I bit my lower lip, unsure how to respond.
Perhaps I won’t tell him about the human flesh cover. I don’t think it would win Griffith any favor in Chance’s eyes.

“What was the point of taking the book? Except risking getting yourself, and probably all of us, killed.”

“I don’t know. Griffith wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, or any of us.” I picked through my potato chips to find one of the curled ones and popped it into my mouth.

“I think he’s going to tell me about the book. After he has time to cool down.”

“Have you lost your mind? He’s not your friend.” Chance grabbed my hand.

I met his glare.

“I am,” he said. “We are. We’re family.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“What because I’m a man? I’m not blind. I know he’s good looking, but you can’t go throwing caution to the wind because he’s batted his eyelashes and shook his tight behind at you.”