Meeting Destiny (Destiny Series) Read online

  In my mind I had been holding Seth at bay for years knowing that my “Destiny” was out there. My Max. What a joke.

  Seth interrupted my thoughts of Max. “I can accept that you don’t feel the same, but until you tell me you don’t want to be with me, I’m going to keep trying to convince you that someday you might. You will: you just don’t know it yet.”

  I didn’t want to hurt him, but I didn’t want to be alone either. I struggled for several long minutes knowing that I should tell him now, before he got his hopes up that something would change. “Seth, I love you, but I don’t think I’ll ever feel that way.”

  “You will. You just need a little more time.” He clung to me for what felt like hours, never loosening his grip. Just as I could feel dawn arriving through the window, I felt him slide his hands gently along my sides. His eyes remained closed, but his gentle hands were comforting. I rotated my torso down to kiss the top of his head. He finally released my body from his grasp and gave me a look I had not seen before. Neither of us spoke for a long while.

  The last several hours had been excruciating. I didn’t sleep at all and with each passing hour the certainty that there was no way to keep from breaking his heart became all too clear. I’d finally gotten enough courage to tell him that I would never feel that way about him, but he refused to listen.

  His eyes were clear, the dark circles under his eyes faded, and he seemed to be excited about something. I braced myself for what he might say next and the likelihood of this moment being the time I would have to rip his heart from his chest. “Lauren, I need to run an errand. Do you have any special requests for me to pick up while I’m out? Maybe a greasy double cheeseburger or something?” His decision to leave for a while and offer to get me a bite to eat took me further by surprise, and the relief I was feeling had to be written on my face.

  “I’m always up for a greasy cheeseburger. If you’re near Tasty Burger, stop by and tell everyone that I’m doing okay.” Seth got up, stretched his arms high into the air and then leaned into me with a smile, put his lips to my ear, and whispered, “I miss you already.”

  As Seth approached the door to exit, Mom walked in. I could see her surprise at seeing Seth. He gave her a quick hug and told her I was doing better, that he’d be back soon.

  She watched him disappear through the door, “Well, I guess I don’t have to ask how you’re feeling. There is a spring in his step, so you must be in pretty good shape! Did he spend the night here after all?”

  “I think so. I woke up sometime after midnight, and he was in the chair.”

  “I’m so glad, Lauren. I didn’t want to leave you alone last night in this place. I’m glad Seth is less fearful of your wrath,” she added with a smile. “Where’s he off to so early?”

  “I dunno. He just said he had an errand to run and asked if I wanted a cheeseburger.”

  She shook her head at me and added, “Well, you must be doing well if he’s running errands and getting you greasy food.”

  “Dad says to tell you he loves you. Can I get you anything? Fluff your pillow, rearrange your flowers?” She was so nervous she couldn’t even make eye contact with me.

  Without sounding too abrupt, I asked, “Okay, Mom, I can tell when something’s eating at you. Are you going to share it with me willingly or do I need to pull it out of you?”

  “I’m fine. I’m glad to see you aren’t as groggy as yesterday. Do you feel better?” She seemed upbeat, but I could tell she had something she desperately needed to say.

  “Mom, why do you do this? You know I can read you like a book. What’s wrong?”

  Her nervous smile subsided, and she admitted defeat, knowing that trying to hide anything from me was fruitless. “Oh, Lauren, we are all so worried about you. What with the television crews camped outside the house and the entrance to the hospital . . . The phone has been ringing non-stop; I had to call the phone company to put a block on our line for incoming calls. The police have come by the house several times to give us updates on their progress. They have a man in custody for shooting you.”

  “Really, the police caught him already? That’s great! When?” No one had talked to me about the shooting since it happened, and I was thrilled with this tidbit of information.

  “A few hours after it happened, I guess, while you were still in surgery. The mayor’s office called and wants to give you some sort of an award. The police said they need to take a statement from you when you are up to it. I have to confess I’m a little frazzled. Coming to the hospital to see you is the most peaceful part of my day.”

  I knew she was telling me what was on her mind, but she still didn’t hit the part that was bothering her. “There’s more that’s bothering you than phone calls and interviews. What else?” I hated dragging it out of her. I wished she would just get it over with and tell me why she was so upset.

  “I never could hide anything from you, could I? I look at your indifference to the whole situation - I just don’t know if I should hug you for being so brave or shake you for putting yourself in that kind of danger. What could have possessed you to jump in front of a man with a gun?”

  The way she described it, I did sound reckless. “I’m sorry, Mom,” my voice hardly audible.

  “I’m not looking for an apology; I just don’t understand. What possessed you to do such a thing?”

  “I just knew that guy was dangerous and frustrated with the little kid standing by him. From the time I was little, you told me never to back down from a bully.” The regret I had felt a minute ago was quickly consumed by my conviction that I had made the right decision in an extremely bad situation.

  “I never expected the bully you decided to stand up to to be a man with a gun. Sometimes you’ve got to think things through before you act. You came pretty close to getting yourself killed.”

  “I know I made the right choice. It’s not like I planned it. I didn’t know I had even been shot until after Wanda locked down the restaurant and carried me to a booth. So, obviously, I wasn’t jumping in front of a speeding bullet; I was just trying to keep the man from attacking a little kid.” Dark irritation was seething through every pore in my body. “Do you know what height a four year old is? Right there,” I pointed directly at my bandaged leg. “His heart was at my mid thigh, right where I was shot. Now what’s worse, me taking a bullet in a leg or a child never living long enough to make it to kindergarten?”

  Fury with her grabbed hold of my entire body. It was difficult to keep from shouting at her. I was sorry I had ever asked what was bothering her. “I’m a little tired. Do you mind giving me some room.” I felt my eyes swelling up with tears.

  As I did my best to maintain my enraged stare, she looked at me like I had just crossed some imaginary line that our relationship might never recover from. I continued to stare at her, my wrath refusing to subside, “Really Mom, I don’t want to talk about this again, ever.”

  Her hurt wasn’t masked in the slightest. She took a step back and stood for a long minute looking at the floor and mumbled very low, “I almost lost you.”

  My words still full of fury, “Well, you didn’t . . . but calling me an idiot won’t win you any points.”

  Again with an expression that looked like I had just slapped her on the face, “I never said you were an idiot, Lauren. Your life is more important to me than a child I’ve never met.” She paused, knowing this conversation had taken a turn she never saw coming and desperately wanting out of. “The news stations are asking for an interview. Do you feel up to it today?”

  “No, give them Wanda’s number.” A light tapping at the door that hung wide open caught my attention. I didn’t recognize the two men at the door who were waiting to be invited in.

  Mom pivoted in place and asked, “Can I help you?”

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but I’m Detective Pothier, and if Lauren is feeling up to it, we’d like to ask her a few questions about the events two nights ago.” I motioned for them to come in,
and they began what I’m assuming was a well-rehearsed, “soft” interrogation. I shared with them all the details, and, until we got to the part where I was sure a door had slammed, they didn’t take any notes and really didn’t appear to be paying much attention. It turns out everything I relayed matched statements they had already taken from witnesses. Detective Pothier chuckled a little, “You really thought someone had slammed a door?”

  The embarrassment I was feeling had to shine through, but I simply nodded and finished the remainder of the interview as quickly as possible. During the course of the fifteen minutes it took to relay the events to the two police officers, my mother had excused herself, so it was just the three of us in the room.

  The detective leaned toward me, “Kid, before we got here we already had all the information we needed from eye witnesses. This was merely a formality for the file. Everything you have told us precisely matches the other statements we have taken, well, except for the slamming door. Everyone else seemed to know it was a gunshot but you,” he added with a snicker. “I’m sure you know we have a suspect in custody who says he’s prepared to make a statement that, I believe, will corroborate absolutely everything we’ve learned the last two days.” The detective closed his notebook and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but if you were a man, I could only describe you as someone with balls of steel. I have had the privilege to witness courage throughout my life, but you take the cake.” The look on his face made my chest swell with pride. This wasn’t some desk jockey. This was a veteran police detective telling me how courageous I was. My first inclination was to invite my mom back into the room and ask him to say it again.

  A little self-conscious from his kind words, I was only able to follow with, “Well, thanks.” The two detectives both wished me a quick recovery and politely excused themselves.

  My mind spun a little on the detective’s choice of words, specifically the one word. Courage. My reoccurring dream haunted me again – Max’s voice echoed in my mind.

  “You will not be able to find me until you are on the path to attaining courage. Once you find me, all the information that I share with you now is locked away from me, hidden in my human unconscious mind. You will have to follow your instincts, choose your paths wisely. I know you will recognize me.”

  I got goose bumps on my arm and couldn’t help but let my imagination take hold. There was no way this was a coincidence. Was it some sort of prophecy? A million different ideas began to run through my head, not the least of which was even possible. Max wasn’t just in my dream: he really was my destiny. The robbery fulfilled it. My courage had brought me to him, just like my dream foretold.

  How could someone I had never met come to me in a dream and tell me about my future? Then when I met him, he was completely unaware of the future he had told me about. Worse yet, that future wasn’t possible because he was already committed to someone else. To top it all off, Seth was all the sudden convinced he loved me in a love kind of way. I closed my eyes in an effort to settle my mind from spinning out of control. All of this had to be a trick of some kind that my mind was playing on me. It had to be.

  Chapter Six

  Seth didn’t return until late that afternoon, coming in with a suspicious look as he walked to the side of my bed. He put the chair back where he had left it this morning and sat down. His wariness was evident, and he simply took my hand and sat beside me.

  With some effort he asked me, “How’re you feeling?”

  “Good, what have you been doing all day? I was expecting you hours ago. Did you remember my cheeseburger?” After the detectives left, I had been left to my imagination for hours, and it was a thrill to have an actual person to talk to. Continuing to analyze my destiny dream had only yielded more questions that I would likely never be able to answer. I was beginning to come to the conclusion that the dream, though very oddly timed, was nothing more than that, a dream.

  My subconscious saw a handsome paramedic and began filling in details that I didn’t have. His eyes were beautiful, but in my dream, he was sitting across the room from me in the dark; I would never have seen his eyes, no matter how many times I had the same dream. Or would I? The adrenaline and heart racing was most likely a response to our first meeting, a little like Pavlov’s dogs. Having Seth here allowed me to stop over-analyzing the entire situation and was a good way to get back to reality.

  He handed me the cheeseburger, “I had to go for a run, clear my head a little. Did you miss me?” Seth was trying to be coy, which was a huge improvement over his disposition last night.

  “A run? I thought you said an errand to do?”

  “I ran for an hour or so. It had been a few days since I was on the track. It helped me clear my head, then I ran my errand.”

  I could see he didn’t want to give me any details, so I prodded him a little, “Oh, is it a secret?”

  I heard annoyance in his voice, “No, but I don’t want to talk about that. Molly called Mom in tears saying you kicked her out of the hospital room. Is that true?” Of course, I should have known better than to think Mom would just drop the subject and give me some space to cool off. She called Gwen, Seth’s mom, probably got her all spun up, so Gwen called Seth. Instead of overanalyzing a fantasy all afternoon, I should have spent some time putting this string of events together.

  “Kicked out is pretty strong. I wouldn’t say I kicked her out.” Now the annoyance was creeping into my voice.

  “Then what would you say?” His accusatory tone sparked the embers from my earlier argument with my mom.

  “I would say she was out of line, so I asked her to give me some space. Obviously I couldn’t leave. You need to stay out of this one.” The warning in my voice was clear: this was not something I was willing to discuss, nor felt it appropriate for him to get involved in.

  His brow furrowed as he raised his finger, as if accusing me of something, “I hate it when you get like that with her. She only wants to help.”

  “You weren’t here, Seth. She didn’t want to help, she… she called me…it doesn’t matter. This doesn’t concern you, so just drop it.”

  “I talked to her and told her I’d get you to apologize, so do you want to dial the phone or shall I?” His voice was annoyed, sounding as if he had observed the whole situation and decided that I was in the wrong. This went over like a hot poker to the eye.

  “You what!? You weren’t even here. What do I have to apologize for? You must be out of your flippin’ mind!”

  “What’s gotten in to you? Your mom is on the edge of a breakdown and you send her away. I’m trying to calm things down, and you tell me I’m out of my mind? You need to realize you are lashing out at the people who love you.”

  “Seth, I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, so I’m going to say this before I say something I’ll really regret: I want you to leave. I want you to go home. I don’t want you to come back to the hospital. I don’t want my mom to come back to the hospital. I know I’m being unreasonable; maybe it is the drugs, maybe I’m just exhausted. I refuse to have this argument with you or anybody else.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Maybe I’m not being clear through all the politeness.” With every bit of baritone I could muster in my voice, I yelled, “Go home!” I know my eyes were wide and my hands were shaking. This was the closest we had been to a real fight, ever. I might regret it, but I needed him to go before I blurted out something I couldn’t take back.

  His response was unemotional and simple, “Nope.”

  Adrenaline coursed through my veins, anger escaped every pore of my body, and strangely enough everything I saw took on a red hue. Although I had never had this type of response to anything in my past, the fury I felt at this moment completely engulfed me. I willed my mind to find a happy thought of some kind that I could latch on to, but I came up empty.

  Seth interrupted my attempt at Zen with, “Y
ou can be as big a bitch as you want. I’m staying put. Let me know when you’re ready to call Molly.” He took my remote and started flipping through channels.

  In a calm voice, so there could be no mistake on his part, “I will have you removed.”

  It was his turn to display his temper, and he issued me a challenge. “You wouldn’t dare.” He looked straight into my eyes as he delivered his message.

  “This is your absolute, very last warning. Go home now while we are still on speaking terms. Stay any longer and I’ll call the nurse.”

  “You’re acting like a child. Grow up.”

  With the fury I felt pulsating through me with every heartbeat, I pressed the, “call the nurse” button on the bed’s remote and waited for her to arrive.

  A nurse came into my room, “Yes, Dear.”

  In as syrupy sweet tone as I could manage, I responded directly to her, “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I am unable to get my visitor to leave. Would you mind taking him off my visitor list and ask security to get him out of my room?”

  Seth’s eyes were ablaze, and if there had been any doubt, it was obvious this really was our first fight. I knew he thought I was bluffing, and when I so pleasantly requested his forcible removal, I could see he was finally taking me seriously. The nurse wasn’t certain whether this was some kind of a joke or if I was serious. “Lauren, are you sure? Seth has been here nearly every moment since you got here.”

  Seth turned to the nurse and asked, “Give us a minute?”

  The nurse looked at me, not wanting to get in the middle of our quarrel. I stayed stoic, not wanting to acknowledge that even a minute was acceptable. She nervously told him, “Seth, I think just a minute, go ahead and say your good-byes.”