Designed with a Destiny (12 page)

It’s mid-afternoon when Benny stops the car
in front of the only grocery store on main-street in the small town
of Sannichton, BC. Zane has his door open and a foot on the
pavement even before the car comes to a complete halt. He pulls his
wallet out of his pocket and counts out forty dollars, politely
thanking the driver as he hands him the cash with his business card
included. The man’s face pales as he looks at the name, then
glances nervously up at Zane, and back down again at the card, the
telltale signs of his blunder written all over his face. Zane
closes the door in the middle of his feeble apology, but Ronan
instantly eases the man’s anxiety when he winks slyly at him and
hands him a hundred dollar bill, assuring him that nothing will
come of the well-deserved insults.

“Where’s the best place to stay in this
town?” he asks redirecting the conversation to something other than
Zane. Benny eagerly provides us with all the details anyone could
ask for on the three accommodations in town, highly recommending
the Western 66 Motor Inn, if only for the homemade meatloaf served
at the on-site restaurant.

***

It isn’t until Ronan and I are alone in room
eleven of the Western 66 Motor Inn that the reality of the past two
months hits me like a wrecking ball. It began when he finally
shared the tragic news of Burke’s death, answering my simple
inquiry about my sister and the others. Now, as I lie next to him,
half clothed in what was supposed to be a perfect romantic reunion,
he holds me close as I deliver a spectacular display of emotional
instability; grief-stricken…then happy, brave… then fearful,
doubtful… then determined, powerful… then weak. He doesn’t pass
judgment when one minute I’m sobbing, and the next laughing, as I
spill all the details of my captivity.

“I should have been there to catch you when
you jumped from the train of life,” he softly says, referring to
the conversation we had about allowing me to take my own chances in
life. There’s a look of sadness and regret in his eyes as he pushes
a tear-stained clump of hair from my cheek and carefully tucks it
behind my ear. Now emptied of all the garbage from the past eight
weeks, my heart seems to swell with love for him as I lose myself
in the warmth of his liquid gold eyes. Finally, I’m ready to give
myself fully, and he doesn’t object at all when I reach for the
button on his jeans. In what I would consider my most powerful
bedroom performance yet, I hold nothing back, channeling all my
emotion and energy in to pleasing him, and both of us are rewarded
for it—over and over again.

***

“Good morning, Mrs. Callahan,” Ronan says
the minute I open my eyes and find him lying there staring at
me.

“I can’t believe you’re already awake,” I
groan looking at the clock.

“Apparently Brandon hasn’t found your mental
radio frequency, otherwise you would have received a six AM wake-up
call from him too.”

“Why so early—don’t we have to wait to get
the new part for his airplane?”

“Bernie had it overnight shipped from
somewhere on the east coast and an airplane mechanic is installing
it as we speak. She’s anxious to get us back to the Freeman
Estate.”

“What is it?” I ask when he looks like he
wants to say more but doesn’t.

“I didn’t get to tell you everything last
night. We didn’t just find Sophia at the bunkers—we found Lawrence
as well.”

“My Lawrence? So he’s a real person after
all huh—not a figure of my imagination?”

“Yep—and guess who used to be his college
sweetheart?”

Having never met the guy in person, I have
no idea his true age, so I blurt out the first person who comes to
mind—“Alisha?” Ronan throws his head back and laughs heartily.

“Who then?” I demand, my interest piqued by
the fact he finds my first guess so hilarious.

“Bernie Stoddard.”

“Bernie?” I sit up in bed, trying to fit the
pieces of that puzzle together. “That’s a creepy coincidence—don’t
you think?”

“According to Lawrence, there’s no such
thing as a coincidence. He believes in the law of synchronicity and
claims that nothing happens randomly—all of us have been drawn
together by a vibrational force of the unconscious mind.”

“Is that what you believe?” I ask, curious
to hear his perspective.

“I didn’t—until now,” he says smiling.
“Lawrence taught us how to feel the oscillating vibrational
signature of people and objects. I checked yours while you were
asleep—guess what it is?”

“Whatever yours is?” I reply hesitantly,
basing my answer on Lawrence’s soul mate theory.

“Yep—four hundred and seventeen—a perfect
match,” he confirms proudly, pulling me down on top of him. “I
don’t think it was by chance that I happened to run into you and
Claire in the forest that first day. Nor do I think it’s
coincidental that we both happen to be Designers, or that Elizabeth
just happened to contact Michael, who just happened to be a
colleague of Alisha’s. The fact that Lawrence, the man that helped
design all of us, has a past with the woman we now work for, makes
a whole lot more sense to me than it would have before I met
you.”

“While we’re on the subject of
synchronicity…” I say after inadvertently glancing over at the
clock again just as it flashes 8:11. “I’ve been seeing the same
number every time I look at the clock and Lawrence says…”

“Let me guess—the number eleven,” he
interrupts sending an instant chill down my spine.

“You see it too?” I gasp. He nods his head,
raising an eyebrow in an ‘I told you so,’ fashion. “It’s not just
us—just out of the blue all the Designers started noticing an
unusual occurrence of the number eleven appearing far more often
than mathematically probable—not only on clocks, but license
plates, receipts, phone numbers, hotel room numbers—you name
it.”

“Lawrence thinks it’s some sort of signal
from the universe trying to tell me something,” I say, not
completely convinced. He pauses and looks up at the ceiling with a
sort of puzzled expression.

“Shhh—listen. Can you hear that?” he says
tensing up, causing me to automatically do the same.

“I don’t hear anything,” I whisper after a
few seconds of silence.

“You didn’t hear that?” His brows furrow in
concentration. I shake my head, straining even harder to detect the
noise.

“It was a voice.” He cocks his head to one
side and puts a finger to his lips. “There it is again—someone’s
trying to tell us something.” His face is dead serious and my heart
catches in my throat as I look around the room for a possible
intruder, pulling the sheets up under my chin.

“Yep—it’s a message,” he says nodding his
head affirmatively.

“
Who is it and what did they say?”
I
ask, automatically jumping to a private mental conversation. He
leans over and brushes my hair out of the way to whisper something
in my ear, an action that should have alerted me that something was
amiss.

“It’s the voice of the universe telling you
that you should pay close attention to your husband right now,” he
whispers blowing warm air in my ear as he shakes with laughter.

“Ronan—that was mean,” I protest, slapping
my hand against his chest, only to be silenced by his lips softly
covering mine, as he simultaneously pulls me underneath him.

“Didn’t you say Brandon wants us to meet him
in an hour?” I ask barely able to catch my breath, as his lips
leave my mouth and he slowly inches his way lower, kissing first my
ear, then my neck, then…

“He’ll understand if we’re late,” he murmurs
so softly I almost miss it.

In a final act of self-control, I gently
push him away. “Sorry, but I need to take a shower.” He looks down
at me disbelievingly, but I keep a straight face and he groans,
reluctantly rolling off of me. He shoves some pillows behind his
back as he props himself up in bed, and the look of disappointment
on his face, almost makes me laugh out loud. He has no idea that
it’s killing me just as much to walk away from him—but I can’t
resist the opportunity to serve him a little of his own medicine.
Taking my time, I climb out of bed and nonchalantly let the sheets
fall from my body. He smiles appreciatively and folds his arms
across his chest, watching every move I make like a hawk. The white
aura of energy surrounding him highlights his dark features, making
him even more beautiful than ever and when he smiles, my body warms
from the inside. “My hair needs to be washed,” I casually mention
in a bored tone, lifting it high off my shoulders, turning my back
to him and strolling across the room to the bathroom, taking twice
as long as I need to, swiveling my hips side-to-side like a runway
model, as I release my hair letting it fall in waves over my back.
With my hand on the bathroom door I count to ten giving my
attentive audience plenty of time for viewing before glancing over
my shoulder. The mixture of pain and desire on his face makes my
face unexpectedly warm.

“Aren’t you coming?” I finally ask winking
at him. His eyes widen with surprise, before he sighs with relief,
and grins.

“Well played, Mrs. Callahan,” he says
nodding approvingly as he flings the covers on the floor. “Well
played.”

It’s not easy granting myself permission to
celebrate my reunion with Ronan guiltlessly with our family’s life
at stake, but for the brief time we have to be alone together, I
plan to make the most of it, and when I pull him into the bathroom
with me, both of us are laughing hard, the worries of past and
present gently stashed away for now.

***

Sophia’s eyes fill with tears the minute she
sees me exit Benny’s car with Ronan at my side and the four guys
stand by while we embrace in an emotional hug that no doubt causes
them to wonder about the unusual friendship that’s developed
between us.

“Are you okay?” she asks in a low voice,
glancing sideways at Zane distrustfully. I have so much to tell her
about the past few days that I’m a little disappointed when the
airplane mechanic hollers, “I think it’s ready to go,” and gathers
up his tools.

“Better than okay—I’ll tell you about it
later,” I whisper, sensing Ronan behind me.

“Sophia, have you met Ronan?” I formally
introduce the two, even though I know she has.

“Yeah—we’ve met,” she says coldly, not even
trying to hide her disdain, and my heart sinks. I could only
imagine his initial reaction to her and as much as I love him I
wouldn’t want to be the recipient of his chagrin.

“Sophia, he’s just really protective…” I
feel the need to explain but Ronan silently interrupts placing a
hand on my arm.

“I’ve been a jerk,” he softly acknowledges
extending his hand out to a hesitant Sophia, smiling brilliantly at
her in spite of being given the cold shoulder.

“I can see now that you did more good for
Cat than harm—so I’m sorry for treating you like a villain.” His
sincere apology combined with a charismatic presence has a positive
effect, and she instantly reverts to the congenial Sophia I’ve come
to know.

“It’s finally nice to meet the real Ronan,”
she replies, emphasizing the word real. She smiles and places her
hand in his for a cease-fire handshake, hopefully brushing whatever
transpired between them under the table for good.

“Since we’re on introductions…” an
unfamiliar guy with a boyish grin approaches us looking a little
awkward. “You must be Cat—I’m Austin Nesbeth. My sister and I are
Designers from Colorado.”

“Alisha invited them when your husband went
missing in action for a few weeks following the plane crash,”
Brandon mentions, almost immediately looking like he regrets it
when Sophia looks at him questioningly, and Zane fidgets
nervously.

“What plane crash?” Sophia asks, in spite of
Brandon’s poor attempt to change the subject with a report of
current weather conditions he’s expecting to encounter during our
flight home.

“What plane crash?” she asks again through
gritted teeth, grabbing his arm as he pretends to study the
navigation charts.

“Oh, a small plane crashed into the
mountains, and we thought it was Cat’s—that’s all,” he says,
avoiding eye contact with her as he folds the chart carefully, so
that all the creases line up perfectly.

“Who was the pilot?” she asks quietly, her
chest heaving under the oversized men’s jacket she’s wearing. It’s
clear by the tears forming in her eyes that she already knows, and
my stomach lurches in disgust as I look over at Zane whose sad,
guilt-ridden expression confirms her fears.

Brandon looks down at her and shakes his
head, murmuring, “I’m sorry Sophia.”

“NO!” she screams lunging towards Zane with
both arms outstretched, swinging at the air, as Brandon grabs her
around the waist holding her back.

“Sophia, I had no idea what they were
planning until it was too late,” Zane says quietly.

“She was the only family I had,” she wails
in agony, then follows with a string of profanity directed at him.
When she eventually gives up the struggle to free herself, she
collapses in Brandon’s arms sobbing like someone whose heart has
been broken in two.

“
Her sister was the decoy for me?”
I
silently question Ronan as a wave of horror washes over me.

“
They planted an explosion device that
detonated over the mountains. I don’t think they were expecting us
to find the wreckage so soon.”

“Sophia, I’ve done a lot of terrible things,
but murder isn’t one of them—you have to believe me,” he says with
sincerity, gingerly approaching her.

“You’re a monster—stay away from me!” she
screams, near hysteria.

“Just fly the plane Harrington,” Brandon
says, tossing him his keys so that he can escort the distraught
Sophia into the plane. There’s something familiar about the way he
interacts with her that captures my attention, and I watch closely
as he tries to comfort her, the expression on his face a mirror
reflection of her pain. When he wraps his arm around her shoulder
and pulls her close their energy particles blend together so well I
can’t be sure whose is whose. That’s when I first realize that
Brandon is in love with Sophia Strizich.