Chapter 10
The police station was a complete disaster. As if Destiny didn’t face enough trouble being seen as some sort of pariah due to her occupation, Vito made the entire experience worse with all his supernatural mumbo jumbo. He was a complete embarrassment.
They had spoken to an officer named Odessa who tapped the tip of his ballpoint pen incessantly on the edge of his coffee mug the entire time she explained what happened to her. When Destiny told him of Officer Aesel who escorted her safely home from the convent, Officer Odessa turned and pulled up some sort of database and informed her there was no Officer Aesel in the entire state of Pennsylvania. From that point on, he was reluctant to believe anything she said.
Destiny realized she was wasting time and anything she said wouldn’t be taken seriously. From then on she strictly kept her focus on her whereabouts and then went on to tell Officer Odessa about what Vito pointed out regarding there being two killers rather than one. It didn’t endear her to the officer when Destiny showed him photographs of the crime scenes, which he then confiscated as evidence.
Things completely derailed when Vito asked Officer Odessa if he believed in the supernatural. They were both escorted off the premises, and members of the police force who had been taking a smoke break on the brick steps of the station advised them to be on the lookout for teen wolf, unlicensed broomsticks, and nosferatu. She had never been more embarrassed in her entire life.
She didn’t speak to her brother the entire time she waited for the pimple-faced teenage boy, who talked directly to her boobs, to program her new phone. Being that she couldn’t find her old one, she had no contacts in her new one which made the device pretty much useless.
She called information to get the news station’s number. After briefly explaining to her boss about her fall in the woods, he suggested she take two weeks off to recuperate. She thought this likely had more to do with the fact that she had pissed off her crew than her boss’s concern for her well-being. Whatever.
She was on salary. She could use a vacation, but her vacations over the past few years had turned from fun sexcapades on exotic beaches to lonely bouts of singledom with a suitcase full of batteries. The appeal simply wasn’t there. Destiny was simply too tired to argue at the moment, but she knew she would likely show up for work on Monday no matter what her boss said.
By the time they returned home, she was exhausted. Now that she was safe and there was nothing to worry about she hoped her brother would pack up and return to his own place. Destiny loved Vito, but at the moment she just wanted to curl up with a book and veg out. One could imagine her disappointment when she came out of her room only to find Vito still sitting on her couch.
Destiny tried to stifle her irritation as she searched for a snack in the fridge, but she couldn’t help it if some cabinets closed harder than necessary. She sat down across from Vito and gave him a penetrating glare as she popped one carrot stick after another into her mouth. As she chewed the rhythm of her crunching seemed to say get out, get out, get out, get out.
“Look, I know you’re pissed, but part of you has to want to take this prick down. You’re Destiny Santos, star reporter. You’re always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
She narrowed her eyes and popped another baby carrot in her mouth. He suddenly looked defeated. “Don’t you think it’s odd that Odessa couldn’t find the name of that officer that brought you home? Or how about the fact that you can’t remember getting here? And the fact that you don’t remember talking to me on the phone?”
“I bumped my head,” she offered, trying to ignore the niggling sense of fear that parts of her memory may have been permanently damaged by her fall. “Besides, you know I’ve always had a terrible memory.” She really should make an appointment with her doctor.
“Okay, well how about this?” Vito handed her the iPad.
She took it and read a generated list of names and addresses. “What is this?”
“It’s every convent and rectory in the tri-state area. There’s nothing around where you were. And what the hell was a nun doing in the woods in the first place?”
“A nun didn’t find me.”
“Then who did?”
Destiny thought for a moment. Who found her? She had a sudden flash of wood floors and a washcloth being dragged over her body, but the hand holding the cloth was a man’s. Her head ached, and she rubbed her temples. “I don’t know, V—”
Her new phone beeped, and she made a mental note to program some new ring tones. Although no contact name came up on the screen, she had no issue recognizing the number. She groaned. “Why is he calling?”
“Who?”
“Adrian.”
Vito looked away and mumbled, “I may have called him when I was looking for you.”
“Vito!”
“Well, how was I to know? You could have ended up there.”
“Adrian? Really?”
Vito shrugged. The phone stopped ringing only to ring again. Destiny sighed and answered it. “Hello?”
“Destiny? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Adrian. I just had a little accident in the woods.”
“Your brother said you were missing for days.”
“I was, but someone found me, and I was safe for the majority of my absence. Thanks for calling.”
As she was about to hang up he called out, “Destiny, wait!” She sighed and brought the phone back to her ear. “I’ve been thinking.” Never good. “I know what you said and I know you meant it, but I wanted to let you know I’m starting a new job this week, and I’ve even started to pay off some of my old loans.”
“That’s great, Adrian. I gotta go.”
“Can I come see you?”
She hung up. It would only be a matter of an hour before he showed up at her door. Why did the one ex-boyfriend who wanted her back have to be such a loser? She couldn’t deal with him today. She considered her options.
Looking to her brother, she said, “Wanna get out of here?” She shook her head when she saw how eager he was to go for a drive. He was like a dog.
Sighing, she grabbed her purse, her iPad, and her new phone and they headed out the door.
As they drove down the Pennsylvania turnpike, Destiny tried to ignore the fact that she was being dragged into a wild-goose chase for Dracula by her older brother. Her life suddenly felt unsatisfying when only a week ago she was at the top of her game.
Where had this disquiet come from? A sudden sense of shame replaced the familiar sense of pride she typically felt regarding her career choice. She didn’t want to be some sort of vulture who held no respect for the small battles people faced, just so she could get a story before the five o’clock news.
She pushed those negative notions about her career away only to have even more dreary thoughts fill her mind. She thought of her parents back in Portugal and how she missed them. She thought of how the only person looking for her was her brother and the ex who, when they had dated, had been the moral equivalent of a snake.
She had given Adrian three years of her life. Three years of her youth, beauty, and love, only to have him betray her in a way that proved he was too much of a boy to ever be a man. He still claimed he loved her on a weekly basis, but what kind of thirty-year-old man could love a woman and steal from her at the same time? But he did more than steal the majority of Destiny’s savings. That wasn’t what killed her. Money could be replaced. It was her optimism he had taken. That kind of taking left damage that would never be repaired. Adrian left her with that hollow, discouraged feeling she remembered having when she was a child and learned there really was no magic on Christmas Eve, that Santa was just an illusion created by parents everywhere. It seemed the idea that loyal, good men really existed was just an illusion as well.
After Adrian, her optimism had mutated into a bitter cynicism she couldn’t shake. If only someone could prove her wrong. She had trusted him, and his lack of responsibility and abundance of lies had left h
er a cold, distrusting skeptic.
Their relationship had been good at times, but Destiny was lying to herself if she said it ever had a moment of perfection, no matter how fleeting. Adrian was too dependent on her. He looked to her for everything from picking out his clothes when they shopped to making the reservations for every date they ever went on. Even in bed, Destiny had always been the one to initiate their lovemaking.
She craved a level of intensity in the bedroom she worried wasn’t normal. She achieved a mocking version of that intensity with Adrian, only the dynamic was all wrong. She didn’t want to be the one in charge, the aggressor. For once in her life she would enjoy having a chance at being the passive one, the feminine partner in the mix, the way it should be, but she was now convinced such things only existed in fairy tales.
She could be passive with lovers, if she had no issue with never coming again. There was something broken about her. She needed her partner to be assertive and in charge when it came to intimacy in order for her to have an orgasm, yet she could find no man out there who possessed such self-confidence. That left her to fill the role, but being the more dominant partner wasn’t what she wanted either.
She tried to wait for her last lover to take the reins only to conclude that the only climax she would ever have again would be by her own hand. She had been twenty-six the first time she experienced an orgasm with a man. It was the combined result of the love she had for Adrian and the intensity of the moment, but trying to recreate that chemistry was almost impossible. And once he betrayed her it turned into a distant memory.
She wanted a man to be a man and unapologetically so. She wanted someone strong enough to take what he wanted and dish out pleasure as if it were her due as much as it was his to take what he wanted.
She wanted to feel small and feminine and cherished, but also safe. Perhaps she was just not meant to know such levels of intimacy. She may be all girl on the inside, but on the outside she was too round, too pushy, too short, and too independent. On the inside she was so incredibly lonely, waiting for the right man to come along and recognize the female she hid inside, the one that wanted to be coddled and taken care of, the one that wanted to take care of her man because, in actions rather than words, he earned her adoration.
“Ah, you know you’ve arrived in Amish Country when you can smell the horse shit.”
She ignored her brother and continued to stare out the window as the pretty farmland rolled by. Even in winter, when the grass had grown dry and the earth was unturned, she found peace out here. Some called it God’s country, and by the way the sun caressed the gray clouds and kissed the fields below with trails of gold, she could almost understand why.
Throughout her life, she moved in stages, an evolution that led her to who she was today. She was thirty-two and painfully aware of certain absolutes regarding herself that would likely never change.
As Destiny huddled farther into her seat, she returned to her reflections. She was an independent, capable, intelligent woman, but there were times she wished she could let it all go. She loved to feel necessary. She had so much to offer a man, if only she could find the right man, completely deserving of all she could give. And one she could totally trust. She read enough erotic romances to know what a woman like herself was called. She was submissive.
She wanted control over her own life, but, deep down, wished for a man who desired her submission, a man who defined what it was to truly care for a woman, be kind and generous, yet firm and responsible without question. If she found a man like that she would gladly give him the gift of her submission. It was a gift others, especially most modern women, wouldn’t understand, but after thirty-two lonely years, she no longer cared what others thought.
She had to believe he was out there. She had pushed past her initial shyness in hopes of finding him, but never found more than a shadow of a real man in the trappings of boys. She was exhausted with the games. Destiny had done the bars, the Internet thing, the socials, and even the exhausting long line of blind dates her friends set her up on. She had met nice men, but the chemistry was never quite right, and she wasn’t sure exactly how she was supposed to announce that what she wanted was a far cry from politically correct.
Destiny smiled to herself as her mind played over a familiar fantasy. She found comfort in the daydream and had come to refer to it as her perfect day. It would begin with her rising before her man to make sure his breakfast was ready and coffee was poured. He would come to greet her with an affectionate kiss, which, even years into their relationship would still hold the ability to curl her toes.
Her perfect man would be affectionate and soft-spoken with her always. He would know that he was respected enough that he would never have to raise his voice to get what he wanted.
Destiny would work hard to keep their home nice, making it a place he could be proud of. She would take time to make herself presentable for him, taking special care to wear things she knew he liked.
At the end of the day they would sit and share a nice meal. There would be no phone calls or televisions playing in the background. That time would be only theirs. He would have her full focus, the same as he would give her his. After dinner her man would unwind, perhaps watch a show while she cleaned up the kitchen, and routinely they would sit together at the end of the night, sometimes watching TV, sometimes just talking. Either way, he would be touching her, showing her she was cherished and she would always be affectionate to him as he would be the man she adored, her protector, her love.
He would know he could have her. That would be her gift to him, that she was always available. She could trust him with this gift because she knew he would never abuse it or humiliate her. He would hold the authority. Thrills ran through her at the thought of her fantasy man’s confidence. He would be capable of directing her in all intimate matters rather than passively asking deeds of her. He would understand what it did to her to be told.
He would always be in control, and she would continuously feel like the girl on the first date, unsure what to expect, but excited all the same. He would be certain in all matters, stern, direct, completely in control. And just as her submission would be a gift to him, his dominance in the home would be a gift to her, taking away all the burdens of life and decision making. Her focus would be solely on him, and she would surrender safely into his care because he would have invested years of proving his trustworthiness.
He would understand her so well. Know when she would need to be softly held and petted and when she would need to be taken. His unapologetic aggressiveness would be what she loved most about him, a gift that only comes with complete trust for one another.
There would be days that she would awaken, touched by how incredibly he loved her the night before and days when she’d be reminded of the passion they shared simply by the imprint of his handling left on her skin. And that would be why she would get up and do it all again the next day. It would be her gift to him for being so with her.
Destiny sighed. She could almost see the fantasy she had created through the years, see the china upon which they ate, the bed upon which they lay. The only thing she couldn’t see was his face. Perhaps because she had spent so long dreaming she had created a man so perfect he couldn’t possibly be real.
She often wondered if she was wasting her life waiting for a dream, if she would be better off swallowing her hurt and marrying a man like Adrian so that she could at least some day hold her own babies in her arms.
As much as Destiny loved her job as a reporter, it was only a flicker next to the glow that filled her when she dreamt of being a wife and mother. It would be so easy to give it all up for the right man.
While her fantasy usually took her mind away on a pleasant journey, today it had only managed to make her feel more morose. She tried to push away the nagging feelings of disappointment and think on happier things. Then she saw a barn.
“Stop the car!” she suddenly shouted, and Vito gave her a concerned look. He quickly pul
led over along an empty field. An old stone barn sat in the distance, a low rock wall led from the edge like the tail of a kite winding over the green backdrop as unending as the blue sky. She knew that barn. Destiny opened her door and unbuckled her seatbelt.
Vito called her name, but she ignored him. Shading her eyes, she stepped over the gravel edge of the poorly paved road and onto the cushion of dried winter grass. Small houses dotted the property, and colorful quilts flew in the breeze like sails sewn of rainbows.
Vito got out of the car. “What’s going on, Destiny?”
“I’ve been here,” she said, taking in the smell of the land and recognizing it as more than just a familiar memory. Here. She had been here, stood in this exact spot, but when? Her mind strained as she sought the precise memory. As if she were reaching into a black pond trying to catch a tiny fish, the memory kept slipping through her fingers. She began to walk.
“Where are you going? D, this is someone’s private property.”
Vito huffed in frustration then went back to the car to retrieve the keys and lock the door. Her feet carried her swiftly over the uneven farmland, and her brother panted after her.
“Destiny, will you hold up a second?” He speed walked beside her. She continued to catalog little landmarks along the way, each one restoring a sense of familiarity in her mind. “Will you talk to me? I don’t understand what you’re doing?”
“I was here. I know it. I can feel it.”
“When?” Her much larger brother sounded ready to have an asthma attack.
“I need to talk to someone.”
Distant voices traveled over the land from the valley, and as they climbed a steep hill, she hurried to the top. When she reached the summit she was frozen by the beauty that lay before her. It was the closest vision she had stumbled across, here in America, that came close to matching her memories of her family’s farm in Portugal, but that wasn’t why it was familiar. This place came from another memory, a memory she couldn’t quite place. Taking another step would be like leaving a fingerprint on a work of art hanging in a museum. She hesitated. There was something final about deciding to go any farther.
Destiny Calls Page 9