AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No. No. No. No.” Destiny’s words grew louder.
Grant huffed. “Boy, that sounds fucking hot. Make sure you do or you might be skinned alive by the Sarge.”
“I’ll be there.” He ended the call, tossed the phone on the nightstand and crawled back on the bed. “Ssshhh… Destiny. Come on. Wake up.” He held her arms, shaking her gently.
“No. No. No. No.” The words were the same. She tossed her head back and forth.
“Destiny!” He shook her harder.
“No!” she screamed.
“Destiny. Wake up!” Now he was concerned. He lifted her up from the bed and cupped her face.
She shrieked then the sound died in her throat as her eyes flew open.
In them he saw absolute terror. “You were having a nightmare, nothing more.”
Shaking, she shook her head several times. “Montana. I know. I saw.”
“What did you see? What?” He brushed damp hair from her ashen face. Her body was ice cold. “Just a dream. Okay?”
“No. No! I saw your death. You’re going to die,” she whispered as tears slipped down both sides of her face. “And there’s nothing I can do to help you.”
CHAPTER 17
Christopher stood in the shower, allowing the water to cascade over his head and down his back. He was drawing a blank about the night before, except for his rendezvous with Destiny Blade. He’d taken a chance allowing her to know that he was aware of her real identify. Perhaps he’d even anticipated her haughty behavior. He’d read enough about her in her professional life to know that she was not to be taken lightly. She was also exactly what he’d craved his entire life.
He tipped his head back until water poured into his mouth. Spitting, he wiped his face before palming the cool tile blocks. What had happened after he left the bar he was unsure of. The missing hours were disturbing. Granted, the headache the night before had been significant, making him nauseas even now. The pain pills hadn’t helped, at least from what he could remember.
Groaning, he slapped his hand against the granite and eased back, turning off the water. At least he’d woken up in his bed. Grabbing a towel, he dried off and slipped the towel around his waist. He wiped the steam away from the bathroom mirror and glared at his reflection. Dark circles and unshaven stubble stared back at him. The look wasn’t his best. Today was a new day. He snorted given he looked like crap.
After shaving and drying his hair, he walked into the bedroom to get dressed. There was no sign of last night’s clothes. He scanned the perimeter and frowned. For a few seconds he stood, envisioning the night before. Hadn’t he gone out for drinks? The majority of the evening was blank. Yet, he was meticulous about his clothing, dirty clothes even organized. Without a doubt, the wine and the pain pills were a dangerous combination.
Today he needed to be on his game. There were contracts to finalize, various staff meetings to be held and a meeting with his financial advisor. No one would know he was missing several hours. He selected well. The suit was charcoal, the tie burnished red and the shirt crisp white. He grabbed his phone, realizing his wallet was wherever his clothes ended up. The search on, he checked his voice mail as he walked from room to room. The usual daily messages from his assistant were nothing but a reminder of his rather dull life. When he heard the seductive voice of the lovely Mistress Jade, he smiled.
Her request? An update on the evening’s meeting with the lovely Skyler. Quite frankly, he had no intention of telling Jade anything about his activities with Destiny Blade. He shoved the phone in his pocket and jogged down the stairs and into the living room. The pile just inside the door solved the mystery. His wallet was in plain sight. He shook his head as he bent down and an odd stain on his shirt caught his eye. What the hell?
Christopher recoiled. While he was no expert, he didn’t need to be to determine the substance was blood. Had he been in a fight? Using his thumb and forefinger, he picked up the shirt by the sleeve. The entire front was covered in dried blood, the arms splattered. A sharp stench created bile in his stomach. After taking a short whiff, he fought retching. Vomit and what had to be urine also covered the once perfect cotton.
He swallowed hard and glanced around the room then toward the front door. There was no sign of a break in and nothing else amiss. A cold shiver raced down his spine. He bent down and fingered his pants and jacket. They were also covered with a gooey substance, along with blood. “What the fuck?” The words echoed in the room. Someone had to be fucking with him.
Then why can’t you remember anything?
Beads of sweat gravitated toward his eyes. The blackouts were getting out of hand.
Hesitating, he grabbed the heap, along with his wallet, and headed for the kitchen and the trash bin. There was no thought about wearing the clothes again. Whatever he’d engaged in, whether sexual in nature or a horrific fight, he wanted zero reminders of. Anxiety mixed with adrenaline as he looked though the wallet. There were no stubs from a club or a parking ticket. A quick glance into the garage told him he’d been in enough of a right mind to park in the garage.
Something was wrong, dead wrong. His keys were in their usual place on the kitchen counter. He walked toward the sink and narrowed his eyes. Although the deep basin was black granite, he could still make out a substance marring the surface. “Fuck.” Taking the tip of his index finger, he rubbed through one of several spots and held it into the light. More blood. This kind of crap he didn’t need.
He washed his hands, scrubbed the sink clean and grabbed his keys. There had to be a reasonable explanation. He feared he’d hear on the news that Stephen Drummand was dead. A single laugh slipped past his lips. Would he honestly care but so much?
There was no such news and in fact, no story about a drunken idiot at a bar or a new murder. He settled into the seat and neared the entrance to the freeway. Several thoughts flowed into the back of his mind. Her. Destiny. He needed to see her, talk with her. Visions flashed before him, vibrant and clear. The table at the café. Her beautiful smile and shimmering eyes. The night at the club. Red. Scarlet red. Blood. She was covered in blood.
Beep! Screech!
“Fuck. Get the fuck out of the way!” Shaken, Christopher turned the wheel then over corrected, managing to stop just before he ran into the back of a dump truck. He kept his foot on the brake and blinked several times in an effort to clear his mind from the fog. The images were still there, flashing by one after the other. Was she safe? What was he seeing? He pressed his hands against his forehead and let out a long breath.
His breathing ragged, he kept his head down until he was able to control his thoughts and his heartrate. He jerked his head up. He had to see her. Of course he knew where she lived as well as the address to her office.
