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The Simpatico Series Box Set (3 books in 1)

Page 72

by Dermot Davis


  "I appreciate that," Fiona said, ignoring the hunger rumblings of her tummy.

  "I don't think you realize how truly gifted you are, Fiona," Abigail said as she extracted a folder from her briefcase. "Your DNA results show just how unique an individual you truly are."

  "In what way?"

  Leafing through the pages of the DNA test, Abigail stopped at some highlighted areas of text. "I don't profess to be a scientist, by any stretch, but certain preliminary results tell us that your DNA have certain anomalies that the scientists here have never witnessed before."

  "What kind of anomalies?"

  "Well, here's how they explained it to me. Our active DNA is only about ten percent of all DNA and the other 90 percent is what they call "junk DNA" or DNA that lies dormant and pretty much useless. Well, not yours," Abigail said with a smile. "For whatever reason, some of your so-called junk DNA has been activated and is very much alive and well, doing heaven-knows what in that brain of yours. We are all very much intrigued, I can tell you."

  "And what about your DNA? Or my dad's? Shouldn't we all have the same DNA?"

  "That's what's so perplexing and may I say, exciting. Yes, it should all be the same but yours is different than ours. Very different."

  "So, you're probably assuming that whatever happened at my birth could have changed my DNA? Is that even possible?"

  "I believe it is, yes. Perfectly unscientific but your DNA has already defied the scientists, who have no theory whatsoever about what has caused what they are calling, certain mutations."

  "Very, very interesting," Fiona said, her head reeling from over-lapping thoughts. The main thought screaming in her brain being: How did Abigail obtain her DNA after Fiona gave her a blank cotton bud when asked for, and practically forced to provide, a saliva sample?

  "Are you sure that's my DNA?” she asked casually.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Could there have been any mix-up at the lab?" Fiona asked pointedly.

  "No mix up, Fiona. I watched them pull the results myself. You are truly a rare bird indeed."

  "Wow," Fiona then said, faking shock. "May I see the folder?"

  "Oh, it's all written in scientific gobbledygook," Abigail explained, closing the folder shut. "I can barely understand a word myself."

  "Still," Fiona insisted, her arm outstretched. "They are my test results, right?" she asked, claiming ownership.

  "Oh, this is my only copy and we've merely scratched the surface; tests are on-going," Abigail said as she pulled the folder closer to her body.

  With a swift movement of her arm, Fiona slapped down on the folder and prevented Abigail from removing the folder and documents from the table. Abigail looked shocked as Fiona stared forcefully into Abigail's eyes. "Where did you get my DNA sample from?" Fiona asked point blank.

  "Why, the cotton swab, remember? You rubbed it against the inside of your mouth, out by that machine out there, the first time we came to visit the lab."

  "I switched it out," Fiona said as she held her position and barely batted her eyelids. "The cotton swab that I gave you was a blank. I took it straight from the box."

  "Well, that's impossible," Abigail disagreed. "If that's the case, then there must have been enough of a sample DNA on your fingertips. Why would you do that? Replace the real one with a blank?"

  "Show me the file, Abigail," Fiona said, mimicking the tone that her father used when he was not to be argued with. "Afraid I'll see something that proves you wrong?"

  "No, of course not. I hold no secrets from you, Fiona,” Abigail said smoothly and crisply, “I just wish you would trust me more. I'm your aunt, for heaven's sake! Haven't I treated you like a spoiled child since I saved you? I didn't mean a spoiled child," she then said quickly, correcting herself, when she saw Fiona’s eyes narrow at her words. "I meant—"

  Taking hold of the folder, Fiona grabbed it from Abigail's grasp.

  "What are you doing?" Abigail asked like she was stunned by Fiona's bad manners. "Give that back!"

  Quickly opening the folder to the very first page, Fiona read quickly.

  "This says that these are the results of a blood analysis," Fiona said, looking up at Abigail with an accusatory glare. "I didn't give you my blood," she said and then had an instant, shocking memory. Looking back down to find the date of the analysis, she discovered it with a jolt. Looking slowly back up at Abigail her head filled with images of her captivity and the man that took her blood on her first day of her forced imprisonment.

  "Oh my God,” Fiona practically shouted, “The date of the analysis coincides with the date of my abduction," Fiona said, her body shaking from the memory and the implications.

  "Nonsense," Abigail said, brushing it off like Fiona had lost her mind. "Perhaps there was some mix up in the lab and if so, heads will roll, I can assure you," Abigail said, looking genuinely upset.

  "You said yourself that there couldn't have been a mix up," Fiona said, watching every hint of emotion that rippled across Abigail's face.

  To her surprise, as she looked at her aunt she heard Arjuna’s voice in her mind: When you face off with an opponent, you look into his or her eyes; always in the eyes. The eyes tell you what you want to know. You want to see if they have belief. Belief is strength and when you see it in their eyes, you know you have a battle on your hands. When you fight, you're not just fighting their body to make them hurt; you're fighting their belief. What you want to see in their eyes is the first hint of doubt. When you see uncertainty in their eyes, then you know that you have won because, right there, they've lost their strength.

  Looking intently into Abigail’s eyes as her aunt rambled on about mix-ups and consequences, as soon as Abigail glanced briefly up into Fiona’s eyes, Fiona saw it: the flicker of doubt.

  "There," Fiona said out loud, although she had meant to say it to herself.

  "There, what?" Abigail asked, abruptly becoming silent and looking terribly flustered.

  "That look, in the eyes," Fiona said, speaking of her training with Arjuna. "It was just a split second but it was there, I saw it, no mistake."

  Her opponent had just revealed her doubt, Fiona realized. The thought shocked her for two reasons: one, because doubt meant that Abigail might be tricking her and two, because she had begun to think of her aunt as an opponent.

  "I don't know what you're talking about and, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to take my file and show those nincompoops what you have found and demand an explanation," Abigail said haughtily, sounding more British by the second, as she retrieved the folder and stood up, looking uncertain on her feet.

  Fiona remained seated and stared at her now bumbling aunt.

  "Honestly, they're supposed to be the best of the best, goes to show," Abigail said, her voice turning into a mumble. "Not like they're underpaid… grossly overpaid, if you ask me," she dithered on as she walked out of the break room. "I'll get to the bottom of this, don't you worry," she shouted back to Fiona as she vanished out of sight.

  Too stunned to be able to move, Fiona stared blankly after Abigail as she waddled through the lab and out of sight. Shocked to her core, Fiona could barely think straight. The notion that Abigail had orchestrated her abduction seemed almost too extreme or even too ridiculous for her to seriously contemplate. Yet she had seen that look, that look of guilt mixed with self-doubt and defeat, that Arjuna had taught her to look out for. As abhorrent as the idea was to her, Fiona now had no doubts. Just as Andrew warned and her father had indicated, Abigail was not to be trusted and, worse yet, she was not to be considered a doting aunt but instead, as unreasonable as it might sound, very much a dangerous enemy.

  Arjuna’s voice resounded in her memory: Then you hit them hard. You hit them hard and their doubt grows until they lose all their strength.

  "What was that all about?" Lydia asked as she came back into the break room and sat back down to finish eating her Thai food.

  Remaining silent, Fiona stared blankly at her unopened meal
.

  "You should eat before we get you started on the sleep study. I think you have to have an empty stomach when we hook you up, maybe eat four hours before. That means you should just make it," Lydia said, checking the time and taking a bite of food.

  "I want to go home now," Fiona said as she stood up.

  Standing up quickly to block the young woman’s passage, Lydia quickly swallowed a mouthful of food. "Oh, you can't leave the facility," she said firmly. "Abigail was very strict about that."

  "Who's going to stop me?" Fiona asked, taking another step forward.

  Holding her ground to block Fiona, Lydia turned to look down the hall towards reception. "I think those gentlemen down there were instructed to stop you," she said, indicating two gentlemen in suits that stood loitering in the reception area. Fiona remembered them from her fake abduction rescue. "Shall I call them to talk with you?" Lydia asked cheekily.

  Computing in her head, what might be the best approach to take, Fiona decided that it was better not to make a fuss and have them watch her more closely for the remainder of her stay. If she acted like she was cooperating, she would be given more leeway and be able to figure out for herself the best moment to escape.

  "No," Fiona finally answered. "I'll have a talk with Abigail when she returns," she said affably and sat back down to casually open her meal.

  Content that Fiona's act of rebellion had terminally subsided, Lydia returned to her seat to finish her own meal.

  "I was thinking of making some fresh coffee, would you like some?" she asked in a friendly way.

  "Yes, that would be great," Fiona answered, determined to be as friendly as she needed to be until the moment to make her move presented itself. "Some fresh coffee would be awesome, Lydia, thank you."

  Fiona pretended to listen to Lydia as she chatted on about her life story and how amazing she considered science to be. Fiona's mind was consumed with dark thoughts and disbelief. Unable to come to terms with how Abigail had deceived her, she found it hard to reconcile the Abigail that she had spent time with and the Abigail who could plan something so scary and dangerous as her abduction. How could her aunt have allowed two unknown criminals, obviously low-level street thugs, to kidnap her and then imprison her in a hell hole in a neighborhood far removed from known civilization?

  The only silver lining that Fiona could think of was the fact that, if everything was staged for her benefit, then the shootout wasn't for real and two men didn't actually lose their lives. No doubt the guns were firing blanks and the blood that was spilled on the prostrate bodies came straight from the local film industry’s bag of tricks.

  "We can set you up in one of the sleep study rooms… whenever you're ready," she heard Lydia say as the youngish scientist finished her meal and two cups of coffee. "The coffee was decaf, by the way," Lydia informed. "As you might imagine, caffeine this close to the study wouldn't work out too well,” she said like she found the concept hilarious. “The sleep study rooms are upstairs."

  Stretched out on the bed in the small room, which possessed only a small desk and a chair for other furniture, Fiona allowed Lydia to attach all kinds of wires and electrodes to her petite body and head.

  "Just rest and relax as you normally would," Lydia encouraged, "the idea is to monitor your normal sleep. If you need anything, at any time of the night, you can press that red button there and someone will come along. There's always someone on duty, okay?"

  "Sounds good," Fiona said and tried to find the most comfortable position on the firm mattress.

  "May take you a while to get used to the bed and the room but don't worry, sleep will come, it always does," Lydia said as she attached the final set of electrodes. "All snug?" she asked, her nose scrunching up on her face.

  "All snug," Fiona answered with a polite smile. "Should be fun finding out the results, huh?" she asked as if she cared, which she didn't.

  "That's the best part," Lydia answered with genuine excitement.

  "You only have one person on duty at night?" Fiona asked, thinking to herself that it could be a good opportunity to break out. "I mean if there's a medical situation, or whatever," Fiona added when Lydia hesitated with a doubtful expression on her face.

  "Oh, I think they put extra people on for you," Lydia responded reassuringly. "They want to make sure that you're extra safe."

  "Excellent," Fiona said with fake enthusiasm. "I guess you're going home now to your own place?"

  "Yes. I'll be back tomorrow, bright and early," Lydia said as if to pacify Fiona's possible anxiety. "I hope you get some amazing sleep."

  "Thank you. You too, Lydia. See you tomorrow."

  “See you tomorrow, Fiona.”

  Left alone in the small, eerily quiet room, that smelt of disinfectant, Fiona watched the light gradually fade to darkness. Allowing her body to relax and her mind to wander, she soon realized that her heart and soul had only one desire: she wanted to be held in Andrew’s arms. Imagining what it would feel like, to surrender into his strong embrace, she smiled. Memories of the fun times that they had shared together flooded her brain and sent a happy dance throughout her brain and body chemistry.

  She could see his face so clearly now, in her mind’s eye, as she remembered how out of it, almost sleepy, he used to look as he stared lovingly into her eyes. Love was a drug, she considered, or at least it very much seemed to be when she was with Andrew. She remembered especially the timeless moments that they had shared together; when time seemed to slow down or stand still as they lovingly teased each other while driving or otherwise spending time together; taking a hike in the Palisades or vegging out in front of the TV, both of them too tired to move their lazy asses off of the cozy sofa.

  Fiona wondered where Andrew might be and with whom. She remembered his phone call and smiled to know that he was likely still thinking about her, still concerned for her welfare. She so wanted to be with him now and the longing in her heart began to hurt her terribly. She could feel the pain so strongly that she knew that emotion wasn't just in her head. She touched her heart with the palm of her hand and could feel its rapid heartbeat.

  In order to calm herself, by trying not to think of her love, she attempted to think of something else instead. She had decided before that it wasn't healthy for her to yearn for a man who didn't love her above all others, yet she couldn't seem to control or stop her longing. Was she unhealthily obsessed with wanting a man that didn't want her back?

  Finding herself tossing and turning in the bed in the small room, Fiona felt like her heart was about to explode. All that she wanted was Andrew; nothing else came even close. Her body yearned to be held by him. Her heart clamored to be possessed by him. Her soul endeavored to be commingled with his, in fact, she knew, it already was. It was being parted from the other half of her co-mingled soul—her sweet Andrew— that felt so entirely wrong.

  Remembering their sacred soul bonding ritual, on the Pacific Palisades cliff above the ocean, which now seemed such a long time ago, Fiona knew that what they shared together was no ordinary love. Their love ran deeper than that of the average couple, two people saying that they loved each other. Their love ran deeper than two shared hearts. Their love conjoined at their very souls. The soul love that they shared together was a reflection of their ritual soul-level joining. What they shared together was soul love and, until they might choose to enact another sacred ritual to cut the bond, they were bound together forever.

  Even if it were possible to unbind or nullify their soul love, their sacred joining, Fiona doubted that unbinding would actually work. She happily realized that if she felt joined to him, then Andrew most definitely would feel joined to her. She flushed with warmth. The thought was a healing balm to her heart. A smile blossomed on her face. Andrew must miss and yearn for her as she longed for him. Feeling suddenly energized by the thought, she sat up in bed and contemplated smashing her way out of the room and running all the way to her former home and jumping gleefully into his arms. She looked around and t
ried to think of a way to get out.

  There were no windows in the room which meant that the door was the only way in and the only way out. Fiona had heard the door lock tight behind Lydia. Being hooked up to so many electrodes made it too difficult for her to move very far, plus she had no idea who might be monitoring her bodily readings in an adjoining room. Trying to escape and failing could result in a worse imprisonment, maybe her being handcuffed to the bed, just like her initial abduction.

  Remembering her former visits to Andrew during his incarceration, gave her an idea. She could leave her body and, depending upon how that affected the electrode readings, no one would be the wiser. It was certainly worth an attempt.

  Lying back down, so that she could totally relax her body, she focused her mind on her task. Hearing the familiar sound of the shift from embodied to disembodied, the sound like wind whistling past a grove of trees, she welcomed the vibrations in her body as if they were an old friend.

  Once free of her physical form, Fiona felt vibrantly alive. Hovering above her resting body, she looked down at it with love and compassion. Briefly pausing to contemplate what her reactions would be, if she traveled to find Andrew in bed with another woman, she reminded herself that she cared for his welfare with unconditional love and acceptance. If Andrew had chosen someone else to love, then so be it. He was a free person to love as he so pleased. She would wish him only love, health, happiness and prosperity. She would not be a jealous soul; wishing that he only have happiness with her. She would love Andrew, no matter what.

  Satisfied that she was in a good place to find whatever it was that she might find, and certain that she would suffer no ill will, or negative feelings, Fiona wished herself to travel to wherever Andrew was presently located. Whooshing through time and space, Fiona made a slight adjustment to her vision and immediately recognized her new location: she had arrived at her old bedroom in the house in the Pacific Palisades.

 

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