D.E.E.P Choices: Volumes 1 - 3 (Soulmate Love)
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D.E.E.P. CHOICES
“SOMETIMES YOU DON’T HAVE ONE”
By Vernistene Dulin
This is a story about soulmate love. Where two people meet and instantly know they belong together. Emily and Drakon are two of those people. They are bought together by a single tread. As you read their story you will see Emily’s view followed by Drakon’s view. You will also see their views combined. I wanted to do the story this way because I wanted people to see how each person in the situation viewed it. Soulmates tend to view life similarly. Please bear with me in this type writing. I hope you enjoy Emily and Drakon. There are “Deep Choices” for them to make.
EMILY
My mother raised me to know that I have choices in life. To do right or wrong, to say yes or no, to stay or to go, plain or with cheese. No matter what the choice it’s mine to make. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t choose this pain.
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I’m sitting in the lobby of my parents’ lawyer’s office listening to the sound of the computer keys clicking as his receptionist types something up. I turn my head as I hear the ping of the elevators. I don’t want to be here. My foot starts to tap involuntarily. To be here is not my choice. I flip my hair back over my shoulder as I look back at Mr. Dunlap’s door. I want to bolt and run. Why did this happen? Tears pool in my eyes. I need air.
“Excuse me?” I whisper.
“Yes?” the pretty blonde receptionist answers sweetly.
“I’m going to step outside for a minute, I’ll be right back. I just need some air.”
“Alright but he’ll be right with you.”
I nod as I stand and walk out the door. As the air hits me the tears start to flow. I see an empty bench by a tree and walk over and sit down placing my head in my hands. My mind wanders back.
“Emily someone’s at the door for you,” Katie, my roommate, says at my bedroom door.
“Who is it?” I ask as I get up and walk to the door, “I’m scheduling interviews. I have one tomorrow.”
She doesn’t reply as I walk into our small living room. The police are there and Katie now has tears in her eyes.
“Katie are you okay?” I ask with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
She walks over to me and stands.
“Emily Barton?” one of the officers asks.
“Yes that’s me,” I whisper, “What can I do for you? I swear I’ve never had so much as a parking ticket in my life.”
“No mam,” he says softly, “nothing like that.”
“Miss we’re sorry to inform you that there’s been a shooting,” the second officer says, “Your parents, grandfather and brother were killed.”
“It was a home invasion we assume,” the first officer says.
“Huh? What did you say?” I ask shakily, “That can’t be right. You see they left for Ireland this morning. I saw them two days ago. They were packed. I drove back early because I had an interview. My Mom didn’t want me to miss my appointment so I came back instead of waiting to take them to the airport. You have the wrong family. Where is James my dad’s driver? He lives over the garage him and Nancy his wife. He can tell you they are in Ireland.”
“They were killed too,” the officer says softly.
I stumble back to the couch and sit. Katie sits and puts her arms around me. I look at the officers.
“Please say you have the wrong people,” I whisper through tears, “Please!!!”
I collapse into tears and the rest is a blur. The next few months are a blur with the funerals and police in and out.
Now, today, is the time for more choices.
My stomach flutters as my heart pounds. I place my hand on my heart. “Am I having a heart attack? It doesn’t hurt, it feels kinda awesome.”
“Hey are you alright?” a very masculine voice ask.
I nod yes without looking up. My hand still on my heart.
“Are you sure?” the voice says a lot gentler.
“I’m fine,” I whisper as I look up, “Oh.”
Beautiful blue eyes are looking into mine.
“Why are you crying?” he asks gently as he hands me a handkerchief.
I touch my cheeks, the tears are still there. So is the pounding of my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I take the handkerchief, “I’m just tired. I need to get back inside before I miss my appointment. Thank you.”
I go to stand when he reaches out touching my arm and a vibration surges through me. My heart speeds up even faster, if that’s possible. I stumble back. He grabs me before I fall and the feeling intensifies. He snatches his hand back after I’m steady again.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, “I didn’t mean to shock you.”
“No problem, It could be me who shocked you.”
I look at him. He’s tall, very tall and wearing a very expensive black suit tailored to fit his long, lean, muscular body. My eyes travel up to his face and it is no let down. He’s gorgeous with longish black hair that grazes his collar and flops over his brow. There’s a dimple in his left cheek. His lips are perfect and his nose is what you would ask a plastic surgeon for as the perfect nose. He has long black sable lashes over brilliant blue eyes with perfectly arched brows. It seems as if I’ve stared at him for minutes when in reality I took less than ten seconds to take all of him in.
“Th-Thank you for your concern,” I stutter, “I have to go in.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies, “Anytime.”
I rush back inside the building. Looking back twice as he stands watching me. I frown at the thoughts I have at a time like this.
“Hello Emily,” Uncle Nigel says as I step through his door, “this won’t take long.”
Nigel Dunlap has been my Dad’s best friend and lawyer for more than forty years. They grew up together. He’s always been Uncle Nigel to me and my brother.
“Hi Uncle Nigel,” I reply twisting the stranger’s handkerchief in my hand as I sit. I forgot to return it. It has the initials D. E.E. P. embroidered in it and it smells divine.
“Emily?” Uncle Nigel says, “Emily, are you listening?”
“Yes,” I reply, even though I don’t know what all he’s said except there is a lot of paperwork for us to go over.
“Your parents were wealthy. On paper that is. In reality after all debts are paid you will be left with the home here and in Ireland and about twenty five thousand dollars. Emerson had the company tied up in so many hands that when we finish sorting it out you may get something from there but I don’t think it’s likely. It looks as if the accounting firm he used stole a lot of money and now no one can find any of them.”
He says I should sell the houses and make a clean start.
“I want to sell the estate here (choices),” I whisper, “I’m going to Ireland and I’ll decide about that then (another choice). I can’t live in the house where they all died.”
“When are you going?” He asked softly.
“I was waiting to make sure you didn’t need me any more before I plan my trip. I think at the beginning of next week. If you could take care of selling the house I would appreciate it. And also an estate sell. I’ll go to the house from here and remove the few items I want but the rest can go. By the weekend I’ll have everything I want out.”
“Em do me a favor and take two weeks to process the house. Make sure you clean out all your parents and grandfather’s papers. I’ll go ahead and contact the realtor we use and get them started.”
“Thank you Uncle Nigel,” I reply sadly, “If it weren’t for you and your help I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t promise two weeks but I will make sure I go through everything.�
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“He was my best friend. Really a brother. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him or you. I’ll get this handled for you Em and we’ll help each other through. Millie wants you to come to dinner. Can you come before you leave?”
“Yes. Just let me know what day and I’ll be there.”
As I stand to leave I walk to Uncle Nigel and give him a hug. He hugs me extra tight.
“It’ll be okay Em,” he says softly, “come to dinner Saturday night at seven, okay?’
“Okay,” I say sniffing, trying not to cry, “I’ll see you then.”
I nod at the receptionist as I pass her desk on my way out. She gives me a sad smile.
When I get outside I lean against the tree by the bench. I’m drained. I try to breathe. I can’t seem to get any air. Uncle Nigel reminds me so much of my Dad. A sob tears from my throat. I can’t breathe. I just can’t breathe. I sink down to the ground by the tree. My heart is pounding again and I think if I am having a heart attack it doesn’t hurt.
“Hey,” the deep masculine voice says gently, “And don’t say you’re fine because you’re not.”
“Where did he come from? Is he stalking me? Should I be scared and run?”
I look up at him and all those thoughts disappear. It’s like coming home. The sobs just tear from my soul. He stoops down and touches my hand. I cry even harder. I want him to hold me and say it’ll all be okay.
He stands lifting me as he does. He sits me in his lap on the bench. He’s stroking my back, saying it’ll be okay. He’s there now and he’s got me. Everything I need to hear but for some unknown reason only from him.
I slide my arms around his neck and cry until I am exhausted.
“I’m Deep, Drakon Edward Eugene Pattinson,” he says softly giving his full name and nickname, “and you are?”
“Em, Emily Michelle Barton,” I whisper through hiccups, “Thank you for your shoulder.”
I look directly at him smiling shyly as I try to stand. His arms seem to tighten around me for a brief second before he lets me go and I move to the bench beside him. I still feel his muscular legs on my rear. They felt a lot better than this bench.
“You’re welcome Em, anytime.”
I take a deep breath and look around. It’s so pretty in this little garden spot. I look back at Deep. He makes me nervous but I feel I’ve known him forever.
“Why are you crying?” he asks softly.
Without giving it a thought I tell him the outline of my story. How my family was killed and now I must go to my parents’ house and go through their personal things. I will have to make choices on what to keep and what to get rid of. I dread this. It will be too painful and it’s not a choice I wanted to ever have to make.
“Thank you again for your shoulder and ear,” I mutter softly as I offer my hand, “I must be going. I have a long drive and a lot of things to go through.”
He takes my hand and there is the same familiar feeling as earlier.
“Where is your parents’ home?”
“In Bridgeport,” I answer quietly sighing deeply.
“I just bought a house there,” he says as he stands, “how long do you plan on staying?”
“Till the weekend,” I reply softly. I don’t know why but it seems so easy to answer his questions.
I look again at the garden around the offices. It is a peaceful area. I need peace in my soul and he seems to be giving it to me. “How is that?”
“I have a suggestion,” he says and I turn toward him again. Damn he’s handsome.
“Why don’t you ride out with me? I can help you or send my housekeepers. They’re at my new place.”
As he finishes speaking Uncle Nigel comes out of the building. He sees us and walks over.
“Em you still here?” he states the obvious, “Hello Deep I see you’ve met my niece.
“Yes I have. I was offering her a ride out to Bridgeport. Her family home is near the little cottage I just bought on the water.”
“Deep first off the house you purchased is not a little cottage,” Uncle Nigel says with a laugh, “and second that would be a good idea for you to ride with him, Em. They still haven’t found the person or persons responsible. I know you would be safe with Deep.
“I may not stay the entire time,” I reply hastily and begin rattling, “I don’t want to sleep there. I was going to stay at a hotel.”
“Your Dad’s cars are there,” Uncle Nigel says calmly, “So is your mother and Grandfather’s”
“No, no,” I blurt out still rattling, “I can’t do that. I can’t drive their cars. James and Nancy were killed in the garage. I don’t, I mean I can’t, No. I’ll drive my own car so I can come and go as necessary. Thank you for your offer.”
I jump up and give Uncle Nigel a quick hug and rush to my car. I get in and sit for a minute. My window is down a bit and I can hear them talking.
“She’s so hurt and scared,” Uncle Nigel says as they watch me, “She just graduate from college with a master in engineering. But her favorite thing to do is make the most beautiful jewelry you’ve ever seen. They’re all one of kind pieces. My wife has a necklace and bracelet she made. She’s awesome at it. Her dad was my best friend but he didn’t understand that she only wanted to do that. He made her go to college and she chose engineering and was at the top of her class. When they died she had seven interviews and they all wanted her. She walked away. Said she needed time.”
“She’s a very beautiful woman,” Deep says.
“Yes she is. Inside and out. Her mother was Brazilian and her father Irish. She has a heart of gold and I worry about her.”
I don’t hear the rest as I put the car in gear and drive off.
It’s about a five hour drive from Baltimore to Bridgeport. I check the time. It’s a little after three in the evening. I should arrive in Bridgeport around eight tonight. I pull onto the interstate and head toward home for the last time. Crying all the way. Hopefully I’ll be cried out before I get there.
When I arrive I drive by the house but can’t seem to stop and go in. I head to the Delmar Southport Inn. Uncle Nigel called and said he booked me a room for the week. Its six miles from the house. It is a beautiful Inn. I had been there before when my mom left my dad for a couple of weeks. He said it was his house and he was not leaving so her, grandpa and Eric left and came here.
I check in and catch the elevator to the top floor. The suite he reserved is awesome. I put my things in the bedroom and head to the balcony with a glass of white wine from the mini bar in the room. I sit sipping the wine as I think about my family and soon nod off. I’m exhausted.
A flash of light shines in my eye and I slowly wake up. The sun’s coming up. It is a beautiful sunrise. I’ve fallen asleep on the balcony. I stretch and go inside. It’s around five in the morning. I shower and decide to go out to the house. I slip on shorts, tee shirt and tennis shoes and pull my hair up in a ponytail atop my head. My hair still hangs midway of my back. I may get it cut. Time for a change. I don’t really wear much makeup and today I decide not to wear any. Not in the mood.
I drive out to the house. Slowly. When I arrive I can’t seem to get out of the car. I sit there for I don’t know how long. I stare at the white two story Shingle style Victorian house. It is beautiful. I was raised here. I see the tire swing my grandpa hung for me when I was just five years old. Up until a few months ago my seventeen year old brother still jumped on and copped a swing. Mom’s rose garden is in full bloom. She would be out now clipping and tending to them. Grandpa would be out here with her on his bench under the big tree in the middle of that garden. Strange no memories of my dad out here. Tears are slowly sliding down my cheeks.
I hear a car drive up behind me and look in the rearview mirror. I don’t recognize the black SUV. The rear door opens and out steps Deep. A second SUV is behind him and four ladies get out. Deep walks to my window and taps. I let it down but don’t turn my head. I don’t want him to see me crying again.
“
Good morning,” he says quietly, “I thought you may need some help. Your Uncle called. He was worried about you because you didn’t answer your cell or room phone. He called the hotel desk and they said you left the Inn over an hour ago so he called the house phone and you didn’t answer. He called me and I came to find you and help if you allow me.”
“Thank you, I would appreciate it. I didn’t want to go in alone. I didn’t know it would hit me so hard. It’s been over two months. I haven’t been in the house since before they died. Uncle Nigel has but I just couldn’t.”
“You’ve been crying,” He says softly, “I got you.”
He opens my car door and holds out his hand to help me out. I take it and there’s that jolt again. I hesitate and look into his eyes. I don’t understand how I could want someone so bad at a time like this. His voice sooths my fears and I focus.
“I would like you to meet Angela, Mary, Brenda, and Catherine. They’re here to help you along with Lou and Deacon, who will be here soon.”
“Hello,” I whisper with a small smile, “and thank you.”
“You’re welcome miss,” Catherine replies, “Whatever you need we’ll handle.”
Catherine appears to be in her early to mid-fifties with a very kind face.
Angela, Brenda and Mary all nod in agreement. They all seem nice.
Deep slips his hand to my lower back as we walk to the front door. My hand starts to tremble as I try to put the key in the lock. He slides it out of my hand and into the lock. The door opens and we walk in.
I pause inside the door. Tears come again slowly running down my cheeks. I turn and look up at Deep. He pulls me into his arms and I cry. It comes from deep within. We stand there a few minutes until he leads me to the settee in the foyer where he pulls me into his lap and holds me while I cry it out. When I calm down I hear the women in another part of the house talking softly. I need to pull myself together so I can tell them what we’re doing. But every time I look up I envision my mother doing different things around the house.
I look into Deep’s eyes. He suddenly leans in and kisses me. It’s so gentle and wistful. I think I could have imagined it. My eyes flutter closed as I whisper his name. The kiss intensifies as I slide my arms around his neck and sigh. His tongue enters my mouth and slowly tangles with mine. Goodness he tastes so good like coffee and mint. He draws back and I slowly open my eyes.