Destiny Calling (12 page)

Chapter Nine

“What does that mean?” Though disheveled, my jeans and top were intact. “How did you know? What did you do when you had me unconscious, you pervert?”

“Nothing, for goodness’ sake. I’m your brother.”

“My brother?” The foreign word stuck to my tongue. All these years I’d spent wondering about my mother. Who she was, the life she lived, why she’d abandoned me? Never once had I considered siblings or that my mother might’ve had other children. Children she wanted…unlike me.

“I don’t believe you.” I tugged at my bound wrists and feet. “Besides, this is a hell of a way to have a family reunion.”

“You wouldn’t give me time to explain. Waiting any longer was too dangerous. Couldn’t you sense her there? I’m sure she would’ve sent one of them to stop me. I had to act.” Chance ran his hand through his shaggy locks, causing more disarray. “They know we’re together, now. The stakes are raised because we’ve made it this far, and they might think you’ve already chosen. They’ll want to tempt you, but I know you’re stronger than that.”

“
Them?
” I raised my voice, increasing the pain in my head. “I’ve never met more paranoid people in my life, and that’s saying a lot, considering I’ve worked in mental health.”

He plopped down onto the end of the couch, his weight tilting me to one side as the cushions adjusted. “Ruthie warned us you didn’t know much.”

“Ruthie? She’s involved in kidnapping me as well?” The pain of another betrayal burned through me. “Know what? I have a ready-made family who’ve decided, after twenty-one years, it’s imperative we get to know each other?”

“If only that was all I had to make you believe…” He laughed without mirth. “It would’ve been better if Aunt Essie were alive. She would’ve known how to explain a world you didn’t know existed.” He stood and began to pace. “Heck, I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen things with my own eyes. But I guess first things first. I’d like for you to meet our sister.”

“Destiny,” Chance called.

“I don’t give a crap about—”

She stopped in the doorway, resting her hip against the jam. Thick waves of shocking red hair cascaded over thin toned arms to a narrow waist. She stared at me, not looking any happier than I probably did at the moment. Her eyes were green, flecked with gold. Her lips were tight with her chin held high in defiance. I’d seen that expression before. Every time I’ve looked in the mirror.

She looked exactly like me. That is, if I started wearing big, flowing skirts and frilly tops. She was like me, but better. It was like one of those before and after pictures, except I represented the before picture. Making me acutely aware of my new shaggy hair-do and the couple of extra pounds carried. “Twins?”

“No.” Destiny’s gaze never wavered, a small smile played on her lips.

I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud. “What? Another
spell
then? Or wait…don’t tell me, there’s a full moon?”

Destiny cringed at my tone. “Actually, the moon―”

“It’s not the time, Destiny,” Chance said. “Hope.” He rested his hand on my shoulder and I stiffened. “It’s true. You and Destiny are identical, but you’re not twins. We’re triplets.”

Destiny pulled down the elastic on the right side of her peasant skirt and exposed her matching birthmark. She smiled at me, as if this information would make me happy.

Chance squatted in front of me. “I’m going to untie you.” He fumbled with my shoelaces. “You’re not going to do anything crazy, are you?”

“Crazy?” My laugh came out a little on the hysterical side. I stared numbly ahead. He was right. It was too much. I didn’t know what to believe. My whole world had gone crazy over the past month. To think of the taunts I’d endured all my life.
“Jane, Jane, she’s insane, touch her and she’ll give you pain.”
Those kids knew nothing about crazy…or pain.

I clenched my teeth as he knelt to remove the duct tape from my wrists, using more care, so it wasn’t nearly as painful. I rubbed my wrists, covered with sticky reside from the tape, and stretched my arms to loosen some of the stiffness from having them in the awkward position for so long.

The murmurs from the other room grew louder. I pinched the bridge of my nose to try to stem the increasing pain in my head. They must have the whole damn family waiting. As if on cue, the smell of cinnamon increased, filling the room and my senses. “Perfect,” I said. “Could you ask those people to shut up? I’m not up to meeting anyone else today. I mean anyone, claimed family or not.”

My so-called sister and brother gaped at me, alike in their easy smiles.

“Tell who to shut up?” Chance peered around the vacant living room, trying to conceal his unease.

I hesitated, focusing on my tennis shoes, noting the wary look my so-called siblings gave me—one all too familiar from the years I spent in the orphanage.

“Oh, nothing.” I stood and they both took a tentative step away from me. Good. They should be nervous.

I rolled my lips together, trying to pull any moisture out of them. Reaching into my pocket for my lip moisturizer, I brushed against the magazine picture crumpled in there. My newfound siblings huddled together watching me. Chance took Destiny’s hand in his. I noted their clasped hands and how Destiny leaned into her brother for support. How he drew her closer to protect her, from me. Rage welled in my gut.

“So when do
I
meet
Mom
? Do I need to wait for an invite to Sunday dinner?” I crossed my arms over my chest to control my shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or the impending migraine, but my body quaked as if I might explode.

Destiny and Chance exchanged a look I couldn’t read. The murmuring in my head waxed and waned. I resisted the urge to place my hand there to stop the sound, which came less from the other room and more from inside my head.

“Well?” Perhaps my journey would end here. Discovering the children Mom wanted, unlike me, made the pain of abandonment all the more acute.

“Hope.” Chance took a step toward me with his arm outstretched. When I backed away, he looked to Destiny who nodded her encouragement. “Our mother died giving birth to us.”

“Died? She’s dead?” The pain and noise in my head reached its maximum, and the smell of cinnamon gagged my throat.

I really was an orphan.

I’d always been one, but didn’t want to believe it, thinking my mother was out there waiting to tell me I wasn’t a freak, and explain her reason for leaving me at the orphanage. Something other than the story whispered among the nuns, that she’d left me there for them to absolve the evil harbored within me. Now that would never happen.

“No.” I shook my head, clasping my hands over my ears. “No.”

“Are you okay?” Chance said.

I couldn’t stand the pity reflected in their faces. “I’ll be better once I’m out of here.” I shoved him aside and ran for the door.

“Hope, wait.” He regained his balance and pursued me.

“Don’t follow me. I’m going to the police,” I said as I grabbed the doorknob.

Chance touched my arm, and I gasped. My skin tingled with warmth and pleasure spread through me. I clasped my hand over his, binding it. Relief filled me, soothing the balm of my pain, and I gave my agony to Chance.

He stared at me with his mouth agape, his shocked expression turning to horror. “Hope, don’t.” Chance staggered and yanked his hand back, shaking it and looking at me with a tinge of trepidation. His eyes widened as he shook his head. “No. You have a choice. You know the right choice.”

When he let go, reality filled me, along with the pain rushing back into my head, and the shame of how I’d taken from him as many had from me. I hadn’t even realized I could, or how good taking could feel. Chance appeared crestfallen and studied me with disappointment. He should get used to it. I have.

I let the door slam behind me. Staggering down the porch steps, bile rose in my throat from the pain and the cinnamon smell surrounding me. I couldn’t tell if either of them followed me, but considering the state I was in, a herd of elephants could sneak up on me.

It sounded as if a million people were talking in my head. Maybe this was what dying felt like. It’d be a blessing to die now, to stop the agony in my head and the pain in my heart. I staggered down the dirt road leading away from the house, took a few steps, and fell to my knees to wait for death. Surely, the end would come now, and I wouldn’t resist.

The cinnamon smell intensified. The voices blended to become a dull roar in my head. My eyes watered and I bit my lip. As the pain reached its maximum intensity, it was as if a door opened, and the roar flowed out of my head through my pores, my ears, and every orifice of my body. I may have screamed from the pain, or perhaps the screaming only filled my head. I didn’t know, nor did I care.

Then it became painfully quiet. Following the silence, I heard one word clearly in my head.

“Hope.” It was Tessa’s voice.

My mind quieted then the world went black.

****

Dirt tasted terrible. The granules shifted between my teeth as I regained consciousness. I opened my eyes expecting Yolanda, the one girl in the orphanage who hadn’t been afraid of me, to be serving a mud pie. Yolanda had no reason to fear me; she’d been dying already.

Instead, the budding trees across the road and two squirrels studying me filled my vision. I blinked and the squirrels scampered back into the woods. Pushing up to a kneeling position, I tentatively touched my head, amazed it was intact and the migraine had dissipated without any intervention.

“Are you okay?”

I jumped. Chance stood a few feet back, looking on with apprehension and concern.

“I’m fine.” Weakness hampered me as I struggled to stand upright, and then I swayed to the side. I tried to disguise the dizziness filling me, although his furrowed brow indicated he’d noticed. I dusted off the layer of dirt I’d accumulated from my unanticipated nap.

“Like I said, I’m going to the police.” Even though I wasn’t sure how long ago I’d said that or how long I’d been lying in the dirt.

“At least let me give you a ride. It’s miles to the station.”

I opened my mouth to refuse, but overwhelming weariness weighed on my shoulders. Once a migraine completed its reign of terror, I was left exhausted. Plus this was the second time I’d passed out from one. I didn’t want to be found later by who knows what in a ditch along the road anywhere near the woods. Putting my hands on my hips, I studied the thick pines lining the road away from the house.

The creature I’d encountered in the woods felt more threatening than Chance.

“Fine, but directly to the police station.” I pointed my finger, and he stepped back, eyeing my hand with unease. “You try anything, and I’ll make you sorry you were ever born.” I winced, realizing he believed we’d shared the same womb and been born at the same time. Not that I believed him, nor did I care. I’d never needed siblings before and apparently, they’d not needed me. Until now. But now it was too late.

He held up his hands in surrender. “I promise, Sis.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Fine, get in the car. I’m guessing you’re feeling better since you’re yelling at me again.” He rubbed at his arm.

I studied my hand, remembering how good it felt to draw from him. All these years I guess the nuns had been right about me.

Chance observed me. “It’s not too late, you have a choice.”

“Shut up.” I didn’t want to talk about it, or even think about what I did or what doing that to him might make me.

Chance opened the passenger door. I crossed my arms over my chest and remained planted where I stood. There was no way I was getting in with him waiting at that door, giving him a second chance to knock me out. He shook his head in resignation and walked around to the driver’s side.

I slid into the passenger side and pressed my back against the door, grabbing an umbrella from the floor to aim it at him.

“One false move.” Of course, the umbrella would have one of those ball tops instead of a nice pointy one that might appear a bit more threatening.

Chance didn’t appear intimidated. “I’m not going to do anything. I told you. I had no choice last night. It was for your own safety, the Oppressors—”

“Stop. I’ve heard enough, just drive.” I’d heard enough crazy talk. Even if the word was the same as the one I’d seen in the book I’d, umm, borrowed. I rubbed my aching head. I was just tired. So tired.

We drove the rest of the way in silence and parked in front of a tiny building with a sign identifying it as the police station. Without the sign, I might’ve thought we’d arrived at someone’s house.

Chance stepped out of the car as I did, but I made him walk ahead of me to the front desk, not wanting to put my back to him. I stood at the counter, studying the graying bun that adorned the woman’s head as I waited for her to acknowledge me. She was bent over paperwork so close that her nose skimmed the page.

“I want to report a kidnapping.” Bun-head either ignored me or didn’t hear me, for she continued her scrutiny of the paperwork.

“She’s not wearing her hearing aid,” Chance piped up behind me. “Mrs. Dwight,” he bellowed over my shoulder.

Mrs. Dwight’s face emerged, squinting up at us. “What?” She reached into her pocket to put on glasses. “Darn bifocals, I hate wearing these things.” She looked past me to Chance. “Well hello, Chance. What a nice surprise to see you here. Did you enjoy the blueberry pie I made you last week?”

“Hello, Mrs. Dwight.” His smile traveled up to spark a twinkle in his eye.

I scowled at him.

“Yes, it was as delicious as everything you make.”

Mrs. Dwight fluttered her heavily lined lashes and giggled like a young girl. “I think I might need to order more things. Would you be the one who’d deliver them or one of the other fellows from Package Express?”

I rolled my eyes. Mrs. Dwight mooned over him like a schoolgirl. I’d bet Chance had women lining up with his trim athletic build, laughing eyes, and boatload of charm, but she had to be three times his age. I’m sure the town felt secure having a half-blind, hard of hearing cradle-robbing grandmother holding down the fort at the police station.