Destiny’s Chastity

Chapter VII

Desperation and Deception

It was almost too much for Destiny to bear.

Her beloved Hunter posing with hunks in some beefcake portrait? And what about his tie to Cuppa Joe’s Coffee Co.? How could it be? Destiny wondered, mumbling aloud. Thinking back to their first tantalizing meeting in the pet store, she recalled he’d known so much about ferrets. It all seemed so long ago, as if in a distant dream. And yet Hunter was clearly the archrival competitor to Java Universe.

And then the awful reality of the situation washed over Destiny. She felt sickened but couldn’t help confronting a bitter possibility: Was Hunter using her to get at Sneddley? After all, the coffee wars were heating up, and there was no limit to what the competitors would do to undermine each other.

She thought of the poisonous feelings that had been generated when Java Universe had staged its hugely popular Teeny Coffee Beanie Baby giveaway last August (one per person per order). And how Cuppa Joe’s had struck back, debuting its Iced Frothy Latte Frappe last October. And, only last week, the New York-based Coffee Beans for All Assn. of America had released stunning new figures showing that price volatility and labor-relations skirmishes had not curbed Americans’ appetite for hot java. Gourmet coffeehouses had grown from fewer than 500 in 1991 to 5,600 in 1996!

Suddenly, the sound of feet crunching against gravel snapped Destiny out of her thoughts. Shifting her tousled cinammon head ever so slightly, Destiny raised an eyelid and gazed through her Estee Lauder-caked lashes at a horrific sight. It was that sniveling Sneddley! The man who had kidnapped her! He was approaching the Bentley with a distinguished-looking guy in a black leather motorcycle jacket. She thought back to the months of crude workplace sexual harassment, and her anger mounted.

Thinking quickly now--for there was precious little time to lose--Destiny plunged her hand into her Prada-knockoff bag. As the men approached, she feigned slumber as her right hand wildly thrashed about in the bag, pushing away a compact, lipstick, 1999 date book and planner, a bottle of Midnight Tonic Parfum Spray (part of an eight-piece gift set), a box of gingko biloba and various Nordstrom receipts. At last! Her slender fingers curled around the cool metal of her Sig Sauer semiautomatic .380.

The grinding footsteps grew louder. A dozen more steps and Sneddley and his thug would be upon Destiny and her beloved. Or was he her beloved?

The question brought a thick lump to Destiny’s throat, and stinging tears slipped down her cheeks. She blinked a tear away and, through the steamed windows of the Bentley, could see Sneddley and the biker brute--a George Clooney look-alike, thought Destiny--just outside the door on Hunter’s side. Her heart pounding, she tightened her grip on the Sig. Now she could hear the key scratching against the car door lock. Her breath quickened. She heard Hunter groan. He was waking! The door lock popped up with a thwunk sound typical in quality automobiles. Destiny forced her heart-shaped face into a state of repose as the door opened and a hot blast of Inland Empire night air filled the Bentley.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?” asked the biker.

Destiny trembled. She could feel her locket resting against her throat. It seemed to quiver with each pulse of her blood. Could she do this? Hurt--possibly kill--someone? But what choice did she have? And whom should she kill? She felt herself sweating against the ecru leather of the car’s back seat.

“Stop!” screamed Destiny. She quickly drew the gun from her bag and sat up, aiming at Sneddley’s astonished face. Destiny couldn’t help noticing a thin line of white foam on his mustache. He’s just finished a cappuccino, she thought.

Sneddley gasped and drew back from the open door. The George Clooney look-alike biker brute raised both hands high over his head.

“Stop, or I’ll shoot!” screamed Destiny, her voice trembling. It occurred to her that her words sounded hollow.

“I’ll do it. I really will. I’ve been attending ladies’ night classes at the Shoot ‘Em Up Firing Range,” she stammered.

“Destiny?” a husky voice at her side startled her. Still pointing the gun at Sneddley, she sneaked a glance to her left and saw Hunter, still slumped over, staring at her, his eyes wide with confusion and horror.

“Destiny! Don’t!”

Springing suddenly from his stupor, his rotini curls falling away from his face, Hunter lunged for the gun. But his hand collided with the inchlong nail of the finger wrapped around the Sig’s trigger.

“Yeeoow!” shrieked Hunter, grabbing his lacerated hand.

“My manicure!” shrieked Destiny at the pain only a badly broken nail can cause.

Pow.

The sound of the accidental gunshot silenced both Hunter and Destiny. Sneddley, grasping his abdomen, moaned and crumpled to the gravel. Destiny gasped, pushed open the car door and rushed around the back of the Bentley with Hunter close behind.

The biker pulled a black leather backpack from his shoulder and opened it, revealing a small but authoritative-looking first-aid kit. He ripped Sneddley’s Italian jacket and shirt away, and examined the gaping hole in Sneddley’s left side.

“He’s bleeding profusely. It appears to be a ruptured spleen. He needs surgery. Call an ambulance,” the biker said smoothly.

“Are you a doctor?” stammered Destiny, suddenly aware that her pink Prada plaid pedal pushers were far too casual for the occasion.

“I’m on staff at Corpora-St. Cecile-Beth Israel-Community-North-South-East-and-West Medical Center in La Canada,” said the George Clooney look-alike, packing Sneddley’s wound with gauze and thinking again about how all those ridiculous hospital mergers had ruined the career he loved.

Destiny looked on aghast. She couldn’t help but notice the doctor’s incredibly sinewy forearms. They reminded her of Hunter. She turned to look for him.

But Hunter had vanished into the steamy Inland Empire night.

* Meanwhile, somewhere in Chapter VIII:

“Where are you, Hunter?” whispered Destiny, the prettiest inmate in Cellblock 7. “Where are you?”

ON THE WEB

Have you missed a chapter of “Destiny’s Chastity”? You can catch up on the story online at https://www.calen darlive.com.