Destiny Defied (The Destiny Series)

by Marx, J. A.

  Isaac scanned the shore. “What’s your take on everything she’s told us?”

  “Perplexing.” His friend smeared the oil above the porch doorframe with his finger. “From what had Mrs. Spencer made the world a better place?”

  “You think depression and poverty drove her mother to murder a shipload of innocent people? Assuming they were innocent. Or—” This sounds radical. “Did she throw her daughter into shark-infested waters to deliver her and humankind from some unidentified evil?”

  Evil stuff had been happening since Chiara’s arrival. What if that evil had followed her here?

  “I’m more curious about where, on a little island, the woman learned to rig a bomb that effective?” Sabio only added to the puzzle.

  They crossed to the kitchen where dinner was being laid out.

  “This might seem weird,” Isaac whispered. “But I don’t think the grief of losing her parents is top most on Chiara’s mind. Something deeper is affecting her. She’s desperate.”

  Sabio’s eyes closed. “Help her not to hide it from us, Lord.” He started anointing the deck entrance. “I’ve been dissecting the topics she previously avoided. I’ve got questions.”

  Isaac peered out at the trees and his heart lurched. “He’s out there.”

  The dark figure withdrew into the silver-green fanned palms.

  Oily finger on the frame, Sabio growled. “Wish I had my rifle.” He wiped the excess oil off on the breast of his shirt then capped the vile and set it on the counter.

  Chiara wandered down the hall. Not showing a speck of desperation, she took her spot at the table.

  Was Isaac just not seeing it? He settled into a chair opposite her and started the raw veggies and pita bread traveling in a clockwise loop. He grabbed a beef jerky, some snack mix, and an applesauce cup from center table. His stomach disputed, but he needed the fuel.

  Dancing her fingers on the table, Chiara smiled like a daydreaming schoolgirl. Other than passing on food, she behaved as if life were normal.

  Girls make no sense. Isaac ripped open the package of beef jerky. “Want any?”

  “Thanks, no.”

  For the next few minutes, the only noises came from teeth crunching food.

  Isaac’s curiosity and discomfort grew unbearable. He kicked under the table at Jase who looked ultra tortured by suspense.

  Jase spit out a morsel of pita as if smacked on the back rather than bumped in the shin. “What’s with the smiles, princess?”

  Tipping back in the chair, she laced her fingers behind her head. “Just thinking about these past four days on the Cay.”

  Isaac took the bait. “What about ’em?” He opened an applesauce cup. Soft food would go down easiest.

  “They’ve been the best four days of my entire life.” Lowering her chair legs, she dipped her spoon into water. She then attached it to her nose so the handle hung past her chin.

  Was this grief or denial?

  Seated next to her, Jase licked his spoon and stuck it to his nose as she had. He tipped back his head and crossed his eyes.

  For the first time since descending the mountain, Chiara Shadi Spencer laughed. As they had from day one, her breathy, sprightly giggles lured them all into a chortling session.

  The awkward tension dissolved enough for Isaac to stretch out taut muscles. He caught her eye.

  Laying down the spoon, she straightened up. “I guess I’m ready for questions.”

  Isaac folded his arms on the table, studying her. “What happened to you was nothing trivial. But it seems like you’re trying to blow it off.”

  “I need time to process everything that’s happened.” She dried her nose. “That’s all.”

  Legitimate, yes. But not an honest excuse for playfulness.

  Suspecting a façade, he silently conferred with Sabio.

  The scholar swallowed the bite in his mouth. “Let’s hear about the Spencer family business.”

  A long sigh billowed her cheeks. “First, I have to tell you how these past days honestly have been the best hours of my existence.” Her eyes misted.

  Isaac braced for drama.

  “You may not think squat of this, because for you it’s normal. For me, it’s held unparalleled significance.” Her lips pursed as if blocking a surge of emotion. “Thanks to a restored memory, I now understand why.”

  Isaac tried to guess what she might consider unparalleled significance. Games? Music?

  Her finger doodled on the table. “You’ve shown me a lifestyle that I’d only dreamed of on Omeàla. It’s not the beach parties or Swedish Fish, although I’d never experienced either. It’s how you’ve treated me.” Her voice cracked. “Tell them, Isaac.”

  Huh? He lowered the spoonful of applesauce that had almost made it into his mouth.

  Goose bumps covered her arms. “Our conversation after my nightmare. Tell them.”

  Stunned that their heart-to-heart had affected her that greatly, Isaac thought back hard, determined not to let her down. “The way we’ve been respecting her made her leery of us because she wasn’t used to it. She expected manipulation. We provided protection. Did I get it right?”

  Looking more shy than emotional, Chiara nodded.

  Isaac hoped the message got through to his friends. Later, he’d congratulate Jase for activating Etiquette Academy. Chiara needed genuine friends, ones who would honor her despite her social awkwardness. Their exaggerated kindness and defense of her rights—humaneness, as she called it—gave her an emotional security that otherwise wouldn’t have been attained.

  That was deep but not unparalleled. Isaac had to hear why before he could rank proper manners in the matchless category.

  Chiara lowered her head, and her hair closed like a curtain across her face. “Is it really necessary to know this side of my life?”

  We won’t give up on you. “I want you to listen to the truth.” Isaac waited until she peeked out through a thin slit in her bangs. “Nothing in your past can keep us from being your friends.”

  She looked down again.

  “Hear me out.” He tapped the table, and her eyes came out of hiding. “Whatever your lifestyle was doesn’t signify who you are now. God cleaned out all the junk and the pollution inside you. It’s part of the forgiveness package he provided when you asked for it. You’re in the process of becoming a whole new person, from the inside out. And that’s the Chiara Spencer we’re committed to. Regardless of her history.”

  The threesome confirmed his message then they waited for her to warm up to the idea. Being someone’s first friend rewarded Isaac more than all previous accolades put together.

  She hooked one side of her bangs behind her ear. “Max Spencer, immorality incarnate, captained an entertainment cruise that catered to the affluent men of the world. Mom and I called them rich scum when no one was around.” A smirk offset the sadness in her eyes. “We had a couple of poker tables and a full bar. But the Nave del Piacere had been built for one purpose.”

  The applesauce clumped in Isaac’s stomach.

  Her gaze clung to the table. “Max assigned Fantasy Girls to dream cabins below deck. Nave clients paid tons of money to engage in a weekend of entertainment and sex.”

  Please tell me you weren’t a Fantasy Girl. “What was your role?”

  “My main function was furnishing the stage entertainment with my mother and making sure clients were content with our services.”

  She didn’t explain content. He didn’t dare to ask. “What kind of entertainment?”

  “Singing mostly. Some dancing and acrobatics.” She twirled the spoon in one hand. “A variety of short performances.”

  “You weren’t a Fantasy Girl?” Isaac kicked himself for asking.

  Chiara stabbed the spoon on the table. “I was never permitted in a private cabin with any man, anywhere. Max’s decree.”

  Her answer seemed inconsistent with the environment described. Nonetheless, Isaac was relieved to hear she was a virgin.

  “That�
��s cool.” Akiko melted against the back of his chair. “Your role doesn’t sound very offensive.”

  “Oh yeah?” She swatted the spoon at his plate. “Our work attire was skimpy lingerie or high, tight skirts with low-cut fitted tops and stockings. For the entire trip. Occasionally less than that.”

  Isaac winced at her surliness. No wonder she had gloried over the one-piece swimsuit and the T-shirt cover-up.

  “I was forced to sit on their laps and let them probe me. Tickle me. Maul me. They made nasty comments about my body and whispered obscenities in my ear, which I had to act like I enjoyed to avoid an unpleasant scene with Max—”

  “Okay!” Akiko waved surrendering hands.

  Her glare burned a trail across their faces. “You’d think I’d get used to it after a decade of stripping, but I despised every minute. From Friday night to Sunday evening on a ship full of intoxicated, silver-spooned scum, I lived a friendless, miserable life.”

  Trying not to picture her in anything except baggy shorts and a T-shirt, Isaac noticed he wasn’t the only one fidgeting in his seat.

  “While you watched movies and ate pizza, I had to entertain sadistic attorneys, executives, and any other self-indulgent moguls Max could attract.” Her glower turned on Jase. “Except for the month of December when my mother and I cleaned the entire ship on our hands and knees. We were too busy to hear anything about Christmas or a Savior. And she never would’ve mentioned it because religion was taboo.”

  Isaac gave her the cut-off signal.

  “Max’s clients paid to kiss me. They paid to have me dance on their tables while they humiliated me. And they didn’t just touch me with their hands.” She banged the table. “Every weekend! And it was all acceptable to my stepfather, unless Sven Scum tried to get alone with me. Only then would screwed-up Max intervene. My standard striptease included—”

  “Wait!” Isaac had long ago transcended embarrassment. “We get the picture.”

  “You! Wanted to know.” A stern reminder.

  “It’s not that, Hope. Chiara. Whoever.” Jase’s jittering hands knocked over an empty cup. “We’re hormonal.”

  “What human doesn’t have hormones?” She flicked the musician’s arm.

  “Ouch.” Jase covered the red mark. “No-no, I mean … I …”

  Isaac bailed him out. “He doesn’t want a picture of you dancing in lingerie in his head.”

  His friends muttered agreement.

  “It. Was. Evil.” She rubbed their imperfection in their faces. “I learned that from being around you guys all week, because I have never, ever known anything different from what I just told you. Forced labor on Max’s ship was ugly and degrading, and it feels good to finally tell someone.”

  Crumbs! No wonder the red poker chip had adverse effects. Isaac exhaled built-up tension. “We’re only trying to keep our thoughts clean. We’re not perfect.”

  She sat back and folded her arms. “Guess I got carried away. Anyway, you now know my entire, repulsive history. Unless you want more depraved details.”

  “No, thank you.” He reined in, cleared his thoughts.

  What she described did pervert the sensuality he believed was God-given. At the same time, the way she described it made him feel like a guilty ten year old who’d just watched a forbidden R-rated movie. The Foursome had not lived the untainted lives she implied. But compared with Chiara’s past, Isaac understood how she believed that.

  The scholar’s thoughtful frown suggested he didn’t buy all of her story.

  Had her torrential downpour of self-incriminating, playboy fodder actually been a cover-up? Not yet recovered enough from her tragedy to process her story, Isaac nodded at his friend to speak up.

  Sabio rested his elbows on the table. “I’m a little confused about something.”

  Chiara’s eyes narrowed with a glint of disapproval.

  “You said your stepfather didn’t allow you into a private cabin with any man. But why would such an immoral individual who hated you be so protective of you while operating a brothel. And second …” Sabio was just warming up. “What was your tutors’ destiny for you?”

  Shoving back from the table, she burst to her feet. “Haven’t you heard enough dog dung about me?”

  Hormone levels dropped below zero. The scholar had successfully pressed the access button on a vault of vile information.

  She slammed her fist on the table. “How much garbage does it take to please you guys?”

  Sabio rose calmly. “Don’t twist the question. There is more.”

  “No there isn’t!” Her reddening cheeks betrayed her.

  Isaac stared at Sabio’s shirtfront. The smudge of anointed oil was glowing.

  Hiding among the breadfruit trees, Lord Vétis scraped his chest with a sharp stone, trying to remove the restraints. The disgrace of the century was unfolding meters in front of him. He didn’t have to hear their conversation to know that Riki was confiding, revealing information.

  He would not be undone without a fight. Taking the worn plastic bag, he poured the remaining gram of powder into his palm and held it before his face.

  “Cast off your cloak, O Glorious Destiny.

  Frame your foes with iniquity, indignity.

  Black rats of brutality, malignity,

  Gnaw through Riki’s sanity,

  Her virginity.”

  He blew the dust at the bungalow. His spirit perceived the Forces of the Air circling the bungalow in a frenzy, as if something were shielding both entrances and rendering the walls impassable. Insatiable loyalty to the Prince would compel his servants to conquer.

  “Let Riki’s nerves unravel from both ends.” If Vétis couldn’t have her, neither could anyone else.

  Isaac steeled himself for the unknown. His friend’s tall, robust frame gave him a natural advantage, but Isaac hoped Sabio wasn’t viewing this as a natural encounter.

  Tears pooled in Chiara’s eyes. “You’re as foul as Max’s scum clients. So what’s next? Should I dance on your table?”

  Jase and Akiko ducked as she swept her arms across the table, flinging plastic plates and tumblers onto the floor.

  Isaac managed not to flinch. “You know us better than that.”

  “I was mistaken!” She pounded the table.

  Treading over scattered tableware, Sabio circled toward her. “What you’ve told us doesn’t explain the voices you’ve been hearing. Nor does it explain why you haven’t heard of Christmas—an international holiday.”

  “That was the amnesia.” She inched backward.

  Joining on as support, Isaac stuck to Sabio like a shadow.

  “Amnesia can’t explain the burning cramps, the blacked-out textbooks, the strangulation marks.”

  She covered her neck with one hand.

  “Amnesia doesn’t explain your attempt at suicide. And it does not explain why your mother pushed you off a ship.”

  Chiara’s snarl could frighten a grizzly. “That’s not your business.”

  Sabio stopped when she did. “Face the inner foundation, or your secrets will enslave you.”

  “No one will enslave me!” Her hands balled into fists.

  Sabio opened his in peace. “What’s your freedom worth to you?” The scholar’s transformation from impassive to bold blew Isaac away.

  Redness crawled up her neck to her clenched jaw. “There’s nothing else you need to know!”

  “God’s got your number, Chiara.” Sabio stepped closer. “What are you afraid of?”

  “Of you ruining our friendship!” She shoved him into Isaac and tore down the hallway.

  Isaac launched his friend back into action, and they started after her. Then slid to a sharp halt.

  The bunkroom door slammed shut in Chiara’s face. She staggered into the corner with a yelp.

  Caedis could not fit through the bunkroom window, but Isaac had doubts. Grieved by the fresh contusion on Chiara’s forehead, he sought to protect her from further injury. “Let us help you.”


  Her boxer’s stance held him off.

  Isaac reached toward her with an open hand. “Trust us.”

  Holding her forehead, she edged across the hall and into the bathroom. The door started to close.

  Isaac leaped forward and thrust the door open.

  Stumbling backward into the corner between the shower and the wall, Chiara erupted with shrieks. The panic in her expression nailed him as it had the day she’d almost drowned snorkeling.

  The source of terror ambushed Isaac and robbed his breath.

  Chapter 48

  A shiver tore through Isaac, all the way to his fingers gripping the door handle.

  The plastic lipstick tube was writing on the bathroom mirror. Unaided. Just like the bunkroom door had slammed shut seconds ago. The tube dropped into the sink, leaving a red message on the mirror.

  Choking down the mystic threat, he remembered Chiara pleading on Mt. Merhamet. Don’t let him take me.

  “Lord Jesus …” A desperate prayer slipped through his lips. The heaviness lifted, and something told Isaac God had the enemy on a short leash. Nothing happened without His consent—including bizarre things.

  Pushing their way in, Jase and Akiko gawked at the mirror then at Chiara curled up on the floor, whimpering like an injured Golden.

  Isaac had Akiko lock both entrances. He then positioned the Foursome like a hedge around Chiara.

  “You have to tell us what’s going on.” Isaac touched her knee.

  “No, please.” She stayed bunched up. “It’s evil. I’m cursed.”

  Isaac’s heart had no more space for added suffering. Tempted to run from the emotional pandemonium, he resolved to push through. A real man would, his dad would say. He’d also say …

  “The only way to break the power of a tormenting secret is to get it out in the open. Keep it inside, and it rules over you. Only the truth will set you free.”

  She lifted her head a bit.

  Isaac took that as encouragement. “Tell us what’s going on so we can help you.”

  “I didn’t want it.” Knees hugged to her chest, she rubbed off tears with her palm. “They deceived me. I didn’t know anything until Friday night. Don’t condemn me, I beg you.”