Destiny Defied (The Destiny Series)

by Marx, J. A.

  “A shrink?” An image flashed through Isaac’s mind of God the therapist sitting on a cloud with a pen and pad and His patient lying on a fluffy couch.

  Hope’s glower punched him for snickering.

  Shoot. He quickly slapped a hand across his mouth to cover a broad grin.

  As usual, the scholar displayed perfect composure. “God heals people physically and emotionally. But here I believe He’s speaking figuratively.”

  Hope screwed her upper lip at Isaac then looked at Sabio. “So there’s hidden meaning in this part of the book?”

  “A lot.” Isaac exposed his tooth-baring grin. “Just ask the mailman.”

  “Clam it!” She gestured rudely at him before motioning to Sabio. “Please explain.”

  Isaac’s internal laughter howled against the tension.

  Sabio stole the book from his lap. “I’ve never studied the book of Luke, Hope. But I can offer my father’s insights.”

  “The amazing Professor Quinn.” Isaac received a rib-jab from Sabio.

  The scholar cleared his throat in a warning manner. “God’s architecture for our lives is founded on a faith-based relationship. When we design our own existence and reject His engineering, we open ourselves to enemy attack.”

  Evolving mental images had Isaac roaring inside, but he confined the roar to a chuckle. “A shrink?”

  Sabio yanked his leg hair.

  Ouch. Isaac moved his leg.

  Hope snarled at him. “And the devil is God’s enemy?”

  Sassy woman.

  “He’s our enemy,” Sabio said. “He warps our view of life, blinds us to truth, and keeps us spiritually captive.”

  Battlefield tactics. Isaac smiled at his revelation.

  The amnesiac looked thoughtful. “The castle moat runs dry?”

  “Huh?” Isaac studied his patient.

  “Yes!” Jase lurched forward as if cheering a Cleveland Brown’s touchdown. “Picture a Swedish Fish out of water, suffocating from self-dehydration.” He wagged a finger. “Satan can’t drain the moat unless we give him access to the drainpipe.”

  Isaac snickered. “A moat with a prison guard.”

  Anger blazed from Hope’s rigid features. She folded her arms. “So. You guys see yourselves as fish in a castle, waiting for a call from a god who has sacrificed everything for you and has supplied you with armor that repels flaming arrows. Meanwhile, the devil—also created by God—skulks up to the moat to drain it.”

  She snatched the foot bag off the coffee table, and Isaac readied his hand as a shield.

  “Through some guy named Luke Four, God anoints you to put on a guard uniform and go fight Lucifer.” She whipped the foot bag at him. “But you forget to stay in contact with God who could destroy your enemy, the liar.” She elbowed Akiko. “The moat runs dry, meaning the liar wins. But that’s okay. Because God already died to give you a second chance.”

  Isaac tilted his head. “That’s … an interesting conclusion.”

  “It’s monkey dung!” Her snarl clawed him as she rose. “Your philosophy is irrational. I’m going to do the dishes.”

  Akiko followed. “I’ll wash. You rinse.”

  “Where’s the shrink?” Isaac dried the amusement from his eyes.

  Sabio rose to his knees and grabbed him by the hair. “I have never heard you ridicule the naïve. Your sincere love for people always kept me on your side. Until tonight.” He retreated to the bunkroom.

  No, tonight’s mischief was female-generated. Isaac refused even the suggestion of blame.

  Chapter 31

  Isaac popped half-a-bagel into the toaster then freed the jelly from the fridge. He thanked himself for the wise choices he’d made during high school that saved him from the pit of drama. Juggling his energy between building up rental investments and perfecting his skills to become a medical professional, he hadn’t wasted time on dating. Females required too much delicate handling.

  “I’m making my famous peanut butter and jelly deluxe.” He selected a knife from the kitchen drawer. “Anyone else want a snack?”

  The only thing missing from Hope’s sneer was her tongue sticking out.

  Unreasonable. Why couldn’t she let it go? Her immature reactions only perpetuated their cold war.

  Akiko handed soapy tableware to his rebellious dishwashing assistant. “What makes your bagel deluxe?”

  He unscrewed the jelly and peanut butter jar lids. “My mom’s secret recipe.”

  Hope snorted.

  Girls!

  Leaning against the kitchen counter on the living room side, Jase drummed his fingers near the jelly. “Childish,” he mouthed.

  Isaac pretended not to notice as he painted the bagel. “Apply peanut butter liberally.”

  A spoonful of suds hit his neck and slithered down his back. Brat.

  “I’ll put away the dishes,” said Hope.

  “Thanks.” Akiko knuckled Isaac’s ribs. “I’ll be on the deck.”

  Hope swung open the cabinet door above Isaac’s head, and he quickly ducked. She set the dishes on the shelf then closed the door with another snort.

  As soon as she turned away, Jase leaned into Isaac’s view. “Do something,” he mouthed.

  Not in this life. Isaac displayed his creation face up in his hand. “Voilà. The deluxe PBJ bagel.”

  She hung the dishtowel. Came closer. Smiled at his masterpiece.

  Apologize, and I might share. Isaac smiled at her effort to rise above immaturity. “Sweet, isn’t it?”

  Shoving his hand with the bagel into his chest, she smeared it over his shirt. “Now it’s sweeter.”

  Stunned, he could only gape.

  Hope stomped out of the bungalow. The door slammed shut, and Jase boomed with laughter.

  She’s asked for it now. Isaac tossed the ruined bagel on the counter and lifted his goopy shirt off his front. “This is not funny.”

  “Oh, yes it is.”

  Sabio emerged from the bunkroom in his red boxers, rubbing his temple with lavender oil. “What did I miss?”

  “Nothing of entertaining value.” Isaac used the butter knife to scrape globs of peanut butter and jelly into the sink.

  Akiko came back inside. “What happened to you?”

  “Vandalism.” Grabbing the sponge to scrub his shirt, Isaac growled at Jase’s laughter. “I cannot believe she did this.”

  “You offended her.” Jase slid the spoiled half-bagel near the sink. A satiric reminder. “What did you expect?”

  Leaning over the basin, Isaac rinsed his shirt. “How was I supposed to know her questions were serious?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Jase said. “You should’ve apologized.”

  For what? He strangled the sponge under the running faucet. “She smashed red jelly on my favorite shirt.”

  Sabio lidded the jars. “Did you really expect courtesy from someone who’s blind to the truth? Unlike yourself.”

  The implication stabbed Isaac where it counted. He should’ve known better. “This stain’s not coming out.”

  “Forget the dumb shirt.” Sabio snapped the dishtowel at him. “Etiquette Academy. You talk to her before the night’s up, or don’t plan on sleeping here tonight.” He started toward the hallway.

  My own friends. Against me. “You win. I’ll go.” Isaac twisted the sponge until it would twist no more. “But I’m tired. Hungry. And frustrated.”

  Advertising that hazardous combo didn’t gain any second-thought opinions.

  Akiko swung his arm toward the door, opening an imaginary gate to drama. “Veni. Vidi. Vice. I came. I saw. I conquered.”

  Isaac threw the torn sponge in the sink. “Julius Caesar.”

  Jase flashed his dopey grin. “It fits.”

  She has not conquered me.

  “I would’ve told you, but you never asked me. By the way.”Akiko nodded toward the door. “She mentioned going on a walk. Alone.”

  Isaac marched across the kitchen, set to prove that negotiating with GI Jane
wasn’t going to make a difference. He came close but managed not to slam the glass door shut behind him.

  No Haunted Mansion heebie-jeebies dared harass him as he bulldozed through the tree tunnel to the beach. Spotting Hope strolling along the water’s edge as expected, he approached stealthily.

  “Go home, Isaac.” She didn’t curb her pace.

  “How’d you know I was here?”

  She wheeled halfway around where the full moon illuminated her poker face. “You forgot your cloaking device tonight.”

  Dodging the wisecrack, he feigned a civil front. “I’m here to talk.”

  “Not interested.” She walked away.

  Unreasonable female. He trailed her, keeping a two-yard buffer. “We’re stuck living in the same house for the next four days. We have to work this out.” He stopped when she did.

  “Fine.” She whirled around, her expression sober. “You laughed at me. You made fun of me. And you humiliated me.” Her volume mounted. “What else is there to work out?”

  “I did not make fun of you.”

  Her finger air-jabbed him. “You did.”

  He pinched the hem of his shirt and flapped the damp tee at her. “So smearing jam on my clothes evened the score?”

  “Negative. Just made me feel better.”

  “How was I to know you were asking a serious question?”

  Flicking the sand from her feet, Hope came and stopped a foot from his face. An intimidation tactic.

  Isaac folded his arms, eager to oppose her dramatic explosion. His four-inch height advantage made every bit of a difference tonight.

  “I process ideas in pictures. Those questions were the best I could come up with.” Sorrow reflected in her eyes, her voice. “But my asinine thinking obviously didn’t meet your superior standards.”

  Instead of a heated female rage, her wounded aroma silenced him.

  “I don’t get your stupid Bible, and you embarrassed me for it. I only stayed because of Sabio’s tolerant response. I did want answers but not any longer.” Emitting lower energy than a dead battery, she turned and lumbered down shore.

  A spiritual captive. She didn’t have an identity or hope. He did. Etiquette Academy had taught him to show kindness, but he’d ridiculed her. His crusade for revenge never paid off, only marred his integrity.

  Weakness almost buckled Isaac’s knees. He had wronged Hope. Shamelessly. “Jesus, forgive me,” he whispered. “Help her trust me again.”

  What do I do?

  A small yet potent Voice stirred his soul. My ambassadors walk in humility.

  Ambassador? To a king? If a nobly inspired heart only grew from serving others on behalf of the King then Isaac’s only option was to make amends.

  Conscience reactivated, he approached the captive who was making circles in the sand with her toes. “I’m sorry, Hope. I was totally wrong.”

  “Don’t mock me. A second ago you were angry.” Bitterness spoke frankly.

  “That was my pride talking. I should’ve apologized when this whole thing started instead of letting it go this far.” Forcing his hands to stay at his sides, he waited for her to run him over verbally.

  She twisted around slowly and stared at him through a gap in her bangs. “You mean that?”

  “Yes.” He made himself look her in the eye. “It was a dumb mistake, and I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I laughed, which really was unintentional. And I’m sorry for embarrassing you.” He topped it off generously. “I deserved the PBJ on my shirt.”

  Cupping her hands over her face, she swept back her hair. “Talk about awkward. Can’t you at least argue like a man?”

  He kept his arms from crossing in defense. “What do you want me to do? Yell? Push you around? Rub jelly on your shirt?”

  Her salty gaze took a nosedive.

  He had disarmed her. Now for the fatal blow. “I finally am acting like a man. Before this, I was acting foolishly. Pridefully.”

  Silence. She didn’t budge.

  Please, Hope. He wanted to lift her chin, read her reaction. This had to be the toughest battle he’d ever fought. And one he needed to win.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about accepting my apology and being Charlie Brown’s friend again?”

  Her toes burrowed in the sand. “Peppermint Patty never smeared jelly on Chuck’s shirt. Did she?”

  He smiled. “I forgive you. Our relationship is more important to me than a smeared shirt. Replacing the shirt is easy.”

  She looked up with a dumfounded expression. Then a doubtful one, possibly contemplating alternative lodging in case this wasn’t over.

  It’s over. Isaac gave her his hand. “Let’s go back. I’m not comfortable with you out here alone.” He wiggled his fingers until she grabbed hold.

  They crossed the beach, and his cheeks drowned in warmth. He’d never held a girl’s hand, and he regretted committing to it tonight. Sort of. Maybe not.

  Once they passed through the tunnel, he bumped her toward a palm tree and pulled her back like a yoyo. “Watch where you’re walking.”

  A swift thump from her hip knocked him to one knee. “Last one home is a dead, stinky lobster.” She took off running.

  Jumping up, he charged after her and leaped onto the deck a hair after she did. “You cheated.”

  “Let’s not play lovers’ games, Charlie Brown.” Her airy giggle made him laugh.

  “Good grief.” He slid open the door and had to take a breath before following her in. “Good night, Peppermint Patty.”

  “Good night, Chuck.” She dove onto the couch.

  He turned off the hallway light and stumbled through the dark to his bunk.

  “How’d it go?” Jase whispered.

  “Perfect.” Isaac exhaled a breeze of exhilaration. “Absolutely perfect.”

  Chapter 32

  The consummation of Phase II was a day away, and Riki was holding hands with a man.

  Just beyond the tree tunnel, Lord Vétis hurled a large pebble into the trees, commanding it to kill anything that crossed its path. He slammed a heavy, flat stone into the earth.

  Isaac treated her like a lady, but she was never meant to be one. Never would. How convenient that the mongrels would become her debut sacrifice.

  Letting his soul binge on revenge, Vétis lifted his gaze to the moon. “Nothing can stop the inevitable. No human can alter absolute destiny.”

  Destiny had ordained Riki’s skills. Her education. Her hardness of heart. She had not survived severe hardship, including an attempted annihilation, for naught. If Vétis followed the set schedule, Riki Hammad would take command of the Lux’s guerilla army in five years.

  I’ll achieve it in three. He opened the stolen canvas satchel and dumped out the bound hutia he’d caught on the way. Stomping on the creature, he siphoned strength from its squeals of misery.

  It squeals like Miguel. Seven years ago, Vétis had found out the Nave’s galley cleaner was secretly meeting with Riki. Vétis had the teen slain as an example to the rest of the villagers. He had also banned the villagers from mingling with the chosen one, for her own good.

  Slaughterous thoughts against Isaac twisted Vétis’s lips into a smile as he set the hutia aflame. He then sank into a trance.

  Forces of the Air confirmed contact. Grand Master Rakshasa had received his psychical communication. By now, Rakshasa would have relayed Riki’s whereabouts to Captain Carreau of the Emma-O, the Lux’s converted cargo ship. Transportation could arrive as soon as tomorrow.

  Vétis crept up to the bungalow. He flicked filthy water upon the walls, his mock blessings. He sang prayers to inoculate the maiden. His chanting spiraled into uninhibited worship. Self-affliction. Drunkenness. Thrashing about like an animal, he danced and performed foul acts, arousing the prince.

  One tier closer to full godhood, Vétis emerged from the trance.

  He resumed his mortal duties and unwrapped his foot, which he hadn’t checked in two days. Examining it
under the light of a crude torch, he cursed the pus-encrusted, half-detached middle toe and the nubs next to it. His three end toes, black and repulsive, were a complete loss. He ripped off the loose flesh and burned the fetid pus with the end of a smoldering stick.

  Refreshed by the pain, he rewrapped his foot.

  “My will be done.”

  In twenty-four hours, fate and time would collide.

  Chapter 33

  Tuesday, May 29

  Akiko propped open the door to the boathouse, flooding the cinderblock structure with morning light.Only he had visited the place since the initial tour of the island. “Let’s do it.”

  He and Sabio entered.

  Searching for the pump, Akiko swung wide the storage closet door.

  Sabio reached inside and straightened a hammock. “Where’s the second hammock?”

  An allegiance to a greater cause quickened Akiko’s pulse. “There was only one. Your photographic memory has a glitch.” He turned away and squeezed the side of the large rubber raft to test the pressure.

  “When are you going to tell me why you’re so unfriendly toward Hope?”

  Because I know her secrets. “When are you gonna tell me why you keep forcing the Bible stuff on us?”

  “Forcing?” Sabio untangled four fishing poles from one another. “How about impelled to. Or inspired.”

  “Whatever.”

  During high school, Akiko had been the first to welcome new kids. Teachers labeled him the peacekeeper. Those commendable images had obviously faded from his Sabio’s photographic memory.

  Sabio lined up the poles. “How much did you experiment with Tarot cards?”

  Unhooking the outboard motor from the wall, Akiko removed the cover. “I know what you’re thinking, but that stuff is bogus. Psychics. Ouija boards. Ghost hunters. They’re all money-making scams.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Prove me wrong.” Akiko regretted his challenge the second the words left his mouth.

  “Romans, chapter one. Since the beginning of time, people have seen the things God made. The sky. The stars. His invisible qualities of divine power. No one has excuse for not knowing God.”